152: fever + brain bleed + morphine = it doesn't look good

My mom and I went up to the nursing home to see my dad. To say goodbye, basically. His fever remains at 104. They took him off the antibiotic because he has an awful rash that they think is in response to the antibiotic (and it does look like the one I get from Keflex).
He's severely dehydrated.
He's unconscious.
He can no longer swallow.
His kidneys are failing.
His brain is bleeding.
And they have him on morphine.
The various opinions of the aides and nurses is 3-4 days, maybe a week. They all tried to give us hope: he could rally! He could pull out of this downward spiral. That's not what we need to hear.
He's so thin that under the covers he looks like a mummy. He's burning up. We had a wet cloth on his head and after a few minutes it would not only be dry, it would be hot.
So we held his hands and kissed him and told him over and over to go. That Aunt Bert, who was his mother in all but name, would come for him, and he could see Alf and Patches again. We told him we would be all right without him. He can watch over us from the afterlife.
He's unconscious, but with one eye open (hanging open, if that makes any sense), breathing harshly through his mouth. He didn't respond at all to me, holding his right hand, but he did squeeze my mother's hand with his left. His color is very high, very red, from the fever. He doesn't have that pinched nose dying look yet, which he did have a couple of weeks ago in the hospital. So I'd guess maybe some time this weekend.
Honestly, there is nothing left of him TO rally. His brain is shot, his kidneys are shot, this infection is blowing through him like wildfire.
My mother says she won't go back up there again. She said her final goodbye today. I'm going up tomorrow. I can't go on Friday. If he makes it to this weekend, I'll go up again then.