Hail Mary!

While the days (weeks) seem to march forward with no sign of stopping, and the fall foliage sneaks it's way down to the lower latitudes, we are definitely hitting autumn with full force. Halloween arrives quickly.

More quickly than I would like. I had not yet finished the costumes for the boys. And then my sewing machine craps out... oy. I'm no seamstress. I fudge my way through the sewing world by trial and error. I have a nice Singer sewing machine that has lots of bells and whistles. The bells and whistles don't always cooperate, but hey, why should my sewing machine be any different than my life?
So at 9:30 on a Friday night, I head to Walmart to find a quick <cheap> replacement.
And it's on... I'm sewing and hot-gluing my way to a costume for my three year old in no time.
Ha! Take that, hidden cameras!

Even Mother Nature seems to think a nice 'trick' for Halloween would be to douse the Northeast with snow. And not just a smattering of frost, but full on snow. Several inches of heavy, sloppy snow. Snow that grinds us to a halt. Interrupts Halloween parties (have they ever cancelled a Halloween party for snow before?), delays my drive to the hospital, and all around, seems out of place.

I kinda feel bad. I can only imagine how confusing the snow must be to dad. It was barely autumn when he was admitted to the hospital. Now, with a very early snow and what seems like forever already gone by, I can imagine how he may think that he's never going to leave there.
I make the trek to the hospital with my trusty side-kick, Jonah on a Sunday afternoon. We make good time for all the 'winter storm carnage' we see on the sides of the road.

We arrive and I see that dad has a new roommate. I'm hesitant to ask what happened to the old roommate. But regardless, this quiet, new man is a welcome change from Mr. Bedpan.
Dad slightly brightens when we enter the room, but it doesn't last long. He makes it pretty clear that he doesn't really want me there. I chuckle inside when he tells me to go and send my sister Lisa up.
I've only been in the room ten minutes and he's tired of me...
Dad is not in the best of spirits and he's confused. He speaks like he's in his home, or like a home that we all lived in at one time. I tell him that Lisa is at home in Virginia, and she won't be up for a while.
We go back and forth and I think we end up just nodding at each other like we are both trying to shut the other up.
Well, good, bad or indifferent, we settle in for the rest of the afternoon. We chat. Dad lectures. Tries to tell me what the saying: You can't teach an old dog new tricks really means.
"Hello? Is anyone else hearing this?"

The nurse comes in to set up a new IV antibiotic. The IV is in a bad place (darn those crappy veins for not cooperating!). So when dinner comes, dad is having issues eating because bending his right arm causes the IV alarm to go off. And he has no real desire to eat anyway because he doesn't like ravioli's. I offer to get him something else. He declines.

So we sit and relax.
"Mary!....Mary!...Mary!....Mary!....Mary!....Mary!....Mary!"
Seriously? The woman in the room across the hall is insistent that "Mary" come to her bed side.
"Mary!....Mary!...Mary!....Mary!....Mary!....Mary!....Mary!"

"Hello? Is anyone else hearing this?"
No really, is anyone else hearing this? I'm half irritated at the annoyance of this woman, but more irritated that nobody is going in to calm her.
Finally, I hear someone tell her that she's not at home and Mary isn't coming right now.
Silence.
"Help me!....Help me!.... Help me, please!.... Help me!.... Help me, please!..."

Oh good grief.

We get dad comfortable and say good night. We're headed to his house. I'm anticipating some shoveling in the driveway, and am pleasantly surprised that only the deck and stairs need cleared.
We get ourselves settled after a run to the grocery store and re-fuel for the next day.

*****

Monday morning finds dad in an okay mood. We brought him McDonald's coffee, that helps. Regardless, he's ready to dole out parenting advice. I find his advice more humorous than irritating. Whatever.
We speak to nurses, doctors, whoever walks in the door. Trying to find out all we can. One nurse informs me that they are going to insert a PICC line. She explains what it is and why it's needed. She leaves. I tell dad what's going to happen, and asks if he understands. He says he does. I ask if he's 'okay' with it. He says yes.
It seems like the PICC team arrives quickly...I'm caught off guard. They need a sterile room, so my sidekick and I will have to leave. Dad tells us not to come back. Ha! Fat chance. We'll be back because all our stuff is sitting around.
We hang in the cafeteria. We see some cute costumes. Then head back up.
The PICC team is done. And dad's demeanor has changed. He is completely pleasant. He even teases and plays with Jonah. It's almost a shame that we have to head home for trick or treat!
 Dad thanks me over and over as we prepare to leave. I wonder what the did to him when they inserted the PICC line, did they give him some "nice" drugs, too? Eh, I'll take it.

And so begins the journey home...