He is currently unconscious and somehow maintaining a blood pressure level of 67/36 which is pretty squishy. (These official medical terms abound though my constant stream of tears)

He is holding on right now. Everyone is around his bed and loving him. My mum and sister are absolute tanks of strength, while I sit here and generate enough snot to lubricate entire factories. Crying really is the worst thing ever. It is so pointless and unhelpful. I mean who needs to not be able to speak clearly and have water leaking from your face at times of crisis.

Trudy said before he lost consciousness he was calm, peaceful and full of dignity. This guy, my love knows no end.

His blood pressure plummeted yesterday afternoon. He was as white as his sheets. An emergency dose of a stabilising drug was administered to bring him back and help him regain consciousness which then made his volatile pressure skyrocket. This is apparently all in line with the condition of his broken body, it’s functions wane because of the immobility and basic things like maintainable blood pressure start to fail.

My dad’s giant sized arms, hands and limbs are rebelling against this frost.

Trudy was alone with him and I feel like I am drowning in the ocean between us. I don’t know how she is so strong and able to cope in the raw face of it all.

Today will indicate how much his body is able to do on it’s own, without drugs to help it with basic functions. We will learn if his heart and circulation can regain a healthy vital flow and work as it has since his beginning of time.

I have always considered my dad to be as strong as the iron and bronze in these cannons. I hope and pray that he can defy every odd stacked against him right now; just like some of these relics that were submerged in the dark ocean depths, but were dredged back to the shimmery surface and restored with love.