I couldn’t check on Annie all morning, because I’m not a relative, but when I went downstairs this afternoon I found her sitting in the Activities Room, all pink and pretty. The doctors at the hospital put her back on her meds and told her to eat. She will be seen by another doctor later in the week for special orders before going to Louisville to the oral surgeon about her teeth. I asked her about an antibiotic, but she didn’t know if they gave her one or not.
She has lost the will to live. We spent the afternoon together, listening to a band that was here to entertain the residents, and Annie was happy and excited at first, but by the time the concert was over she was starting to fade again. Exhaustion was showing on her face and the light had gone out of her eyes. When I asked if she was okay, she just told me she wanted to die. We talked and talked, until she had to go home to take her meds, but her smile was gone. I asked if she wanted to come up and file a complaint against the doctor who did that to her, and she mumbled something about thinking about it, but she just doesn’t seem to care any more. I asked if she is eating and she shrugged and nodded her head.
It worries me to see her this way. But this is a battle she alone can fight. We who love her can only stand on the sidelines and encourage her to fight, but we have to step back and let her fight this demon herself. Part of loving someone is standing by, ready to help when that person wants our help, but not trying to force it on them. We had her surrounded by love today. But we can’t fight this battle for her, we can only stand back and let her know we love her, and we want her to live. And we can pray.