Well, other than the fact that my grandfather is now asking for more specific things (chili con carne and cheeseburgers, to be precise). He’s also discovered the nurses will get him ice cream almost any time he wants it.
I would be concerned but, let’s be honest, he’s terminal. If he wanted to sit in a vat of chocolate ice cream while smoking ten cigarettes and chowing down on a Wendy’s Classic Triple with Cheese… well, that would be weird, but no one is going to stop him.
What drives me nuts is that there is a mysterious chart somewhere that shows what his current condition is… and I have no idea where it is residing. A psychiatrist talked with my mother over the weekend and told her what the treatment options (or lack thereof) are due to his current physical condition.
But, really, do we have a clear view of what his physical condition is? No, not really. That’s the biggest issue at hand for me. We’ll have to see what happens…