Last Sunday we drove up to visit my dad. Dan was planning to fix one of dad's heaters and I wanted to enjoy the beautiful autumn colors in the Poconos and hopefully get some good photos of the boys.As we drove the last stretch of the trip up the turnpike, I soaked in the hues that only this area seems to offer. And I thought that it was kinda sad that this would be the last time this season I would be able to enjoy these views.
We arrived, and in typical dad fashion, we immediately went out to lunch at one of his favorites in White Haven.
We had a wonderful day. We all took a walk down to the lake. The boys and I explored behind the ponds and looked for animal tracks while Dan and dad took their time behind us. Dad is shuffling along as he has been for a few years now, but over all he was in great shape and we all enjoyed the walk. Dad and I sat on a bench and looked at the picture perfect lake and commented on how warm the day was. Everything was perfect.
One week later I am making the same drive up to see my dad, but things are drastically different.
This is the third time this week I have viewed the gorgeous fall colors... that is two more times than I ever imagined I would this year.
By the time I reach the hospital, I am so proud of myself... I barely needed to use my IPhone maps feature...I'm getting good at this.
I'm now an old pro at this hospital business. I know where I'm going. I turn into my dad's room and say hello to my sisters who are chatting with dad and giving him Dunkin Donuts and coffee. Dad seems much more alert and definitely more content.
I take a seat facing dad and get updates from my sisters and my dad... well, sorta.
Dad starts to tell us something about the walls and the wind and little black mice. And I'm finally able to ask "Hello? Is anyone else hearing this?" to an actual person. But I don't want to be rude to my dad. So I just give my sisters a look that I hopes conveys my thoughts. And the look Sue returns to me confirms that my message was received. Then I wonder what kind of drugs dad is on...
I get the necessary updates and Lisa and I head to dads house to clean. I've come prepared with a whole host of cleaning products.
Before we begin I try to call my Aunt Jean. I don't recall ever speaking to her before, or even meeting her although, it is possible I have. Having family on different continents is an interesting dynamic.
I find the phone numbers my dad has written out and set out to make an international call. I'm ill-prepared for this. I haven't made a call like that, well, ever! I have no idea how to go about doing this. So I dial '0' for operator. Isn't that what you do for an international call? Apparently not.
After much frustration, I decide to try my Aunt Pat. I dial the number and wonder of wonders I immediately hear the double ring from across the Atlantic. An absolutely pleasant sounding woman answers the phone. Not quite like Mrs. Potts from Beauty & the Beast, but she sounds just as cute.
We speak for a while and I tell her what's going on with her brother. She says she'll pass along to her sister Jean.
Lisa and I clean. And clean. And clean. I finish his bed room, while Lisa works on the kitchen. By the time we finish what we've worked on, it still looks like we should be starting to clean again. It is daunting.
"Hello? Is anyone else SEEING this?"
And now it's almost 2pm. We sweep the leaves off the deck and driveway.
We decide that I will drive back and relieve Sue from dad duty and she will go back and help Lisa.
I am grateful that dad sleeps the afternoon away. Unfortunately, his roommate does also...sorta. Dad's roommate is in much worse shape than dad. Dialysis, compression stockings, oxygen. The O2 sensor alarm constantly goes off. And I'm not sure of his mental state.
An hour or so into my watch, the roommate yells out "Bedpan, I need a bedpan!" I tell him to press the button for the nurse.
"Bedpan!"
Never mind, I'll press the button. I grab dad's nurse button and call the nurse's station. They are slow to answer.
"Bedpan! It's coming!" I go out into the hallway and flag down 2 nurses. They call in that they will be right over.
The nurse's station calls back. "We need a bedpan, please."
"Ooohhh, it's coming!"
The nurses come in and get him set.
They're not overly concerned with his privacy. They don't go to great lengths to close the curtain.
He finishes. He hollers to let everyone know. I press dad's nurse button again. This is getting old.
They come and clean him up.
Everything finally settles down. But because no one was really concerned with the roommates privacy, I now have a direct line of sight to him and his family jewels.
"Hello? Is anyone else seeing this?"
A few hours have passed and I am overly grateful that Sue left me her laptop. It did help a bit to keep from going bonkers (okay, completely bonkers). And they text and let me know they are both headed back over to the hospital. They offer to bring dad McDonald's and I think he is grateful... ravioli's are not his favorite.
Because of Sue's brilliance, we have a legal notepad that we are taking notes about dad's care. This is a way better option then relying on my/our brain/s. So I've kept up the notes while I was with dad. Things are looking good. Dad has gotten a lot of rest today. I'm hoping the rest is helping to heal his brain.
It's getting late, so I decide it's time to head home. I'm still not overly confident about my sense of directions and it would be nice to hit familiar territory in the few dwindling day light hours.
My doubt in myself proves unfounded - I arrive home, in one piece and without ever checking directions.
I'll have this down in no time.
No comments:
Post a Comment