The hospice nurse just left. It's comfort only time. Just keep him sedated. I don't have to worry about food or fluids. This stage could last a day or a month. My Irish leprechaun just wants to keep on fighting to be here though. I don't know whether to sigh with relief or cry. I always hate this stage.
I've been here too many times with too many loved ones.
Yesterday, thirty-six years ago, my mother hit this stage. I've got an odd sense of dejavu and am struck by the irony of the timing.