"I'D GIVE MY RIGHT ARM TO BE AMBIDEXTEROUS"
Enjoy it, because this entry is about to get pretty bleak.
We had a union rally outside of 140 West Street last night. Dre, Danny and I spent most of it trying to get the passing cars to honk their horns. Now, knowing that I would be at the rally and hanging out for some time afterwards, I drove my car to work. After the rally we went to the John Street Bar, which is underground (I was driving, so I didn't drink, but several people there were, annoyingly, smoking).
On the way to pick up my car, however, I found that Zach had sent me several messages. Steven's father Harold, whose health has been failing steadily of late, decided that he no longer wanted to have his symptoms treated and pointed out his DNR form. He has been taken off his respirator, and at this point, it is just a matter of waiting. I called my boss immediately and told him not to expect me at work tomorrow due to a family emergency. I also called jailnurse and informed him that our weekend plans may not be viable, depending upon what happens.
This is Harold's choice. It doesn't make it any easier on his family, though, nor is it easier to take otherwise, as while he is being made as comfortable as he can be (in his state, that isn't saying much) it is still a death watch. This is made all the more distressing because Harold is such a sweet person; he didn't deserve to have all this happen to him.
The best thing I can do right now is be there for my family.