My grandfather is 92, and about 6-8 weeks ago, he fell at home and hurt his back, requiring surgery. As is the case with many people that age, the invasive procedure exacerbated some other things about him that were already a bit precarious. He has been losing weight for a couple of years now, and the surgery and recovery have been such that he can barely eat. His weight loss has thus accelerated to an alarming rate...he weighs less than 100 pounds now. This has been due in large part to the fact that he apparently has some condition that causes him to aspirate on a good bit of the food he attempts to swallow. Needless to say, this makes eating unpleasant and even when he does eat, it's hard for him to absorb a great deal of nutrition. Consequently, he is rather weak and it is more and more difficult for him to regain any strength or do the rehab program for his back surgery. Finally, today, they opted to put in a feeding tube. It will apparently still allow him to eat if/when he feels like it, but much of his nutrition will be gained through the tube. It sounds absolutely horrible to me, but he himself was encouraged by the plan, knowing he'd be able to get nutrition even when he doesn't want to eat.
I went to see him on my birthday a few weeks ago, and I had never seen him in such a state. He is in an inpatient care/recovery facility that is a pretty depressing place. When I asked him how he was doing, he replied, "Not too good."
Understand, this is not at all like my grandfather. Until two months ago, he was one of the most amazing, vital 90-somethings you could ever meet. He worked in the yard every day, was strong and very active for his age, and often stated his goal of wanting to live to 100.
Now, he's really not looking good, and I dunno what the next few weeks will be like. My dad and his brother seem to be convinced that he'll be OK, but I think there's at least some wishful thinking going on there. On top of all that, there's a high degree of dysfunction in their family. Dad's brother and his parents all live together here in Atlanta (as of about a year ago), and Dad, of course, is here too. For the most part, things work OK when they're all settled in their (sort of odd, interpersonally weird) routines, but when you throw this kind of monkey wrench into the situation, it makes all four of them pretty damned kooky.
So OK, that was a lot. Just needed to get it out.
