Turkey Day

I woke to you saying, "Your dad wants you to take him to the emergency room." I looked at the clock; it was 6:00 a.m. "Why?" I asked. "He thinks he has pneumonia." Dad has had pneumonia at least five times, and his mother died of it when he was ten. We don't mess around with pneumonia in our family; we're all afraid of it. "He's ready to go. He and Carmi are having coffee now." Hmmmmm, I guess my Thanksgiving could get worse. It was shot anyway, so I wasn't going to stress over one more crisis. We got to the ER a little after 7:00 and he was in and out of lucidity. He would be docile and cooperative, then he would lie about his medical history ("I had a little stroke." No, you didn't!), then he would become agitated and start yelling for someone to take care of him, then he got off the gurney and dressed himself only to pee on his pants while trying to relieve himself in the wastebasket. Yikes! What a head trip. The PA came out to speak to me. She had run several tests and really couldn't find anything wrong with him. I explained that he had a cough for which he had been given codeinated cough syrup but he had refused to take it because it would constipate him. Then the relief caregiver had thought it was the antibiotics he was refusing to take, and didn't give him his antibiotics last weekend, so the cold and cough were back and keeping him awake all night----and he was on antibiotics again but still drinking a glass of chardonnay every evening. I said that in addition to the delusions, his balance had become increasing poor, that he has been wobbly and has to lean against the wall. She didn't know a reason for the crazy behavior but thought it might be something called 'sundowning', a type of confusion and agitation sometimes seen in the elderly that comes on at night. Then I told her my husband had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and had just had a duodenal bypass. Her eyes widened, and she 'got' it. She said she'd call the doctor and see if Dad could be admitted.

Dad was admitted. As soon as I found out, I called David to let him know so he wouldn't come over for Thanksgiving. I got his machine. My cell phone was dying and I told you that David might be showing up. He did, and you sent him on over to the hospital. By that time Dad was in his room in the new wing, and Carmi and I were worn out.

I came home. I made us some hamburgers and I fell asleep while you stayed out in the family room. When I woke up you came in to rest and I took the van to go (finally) for a bike ride. Thirty minutes was a good workout for me, and I will get used to riding by myself. Thanksgiving Dinner didn't happen this year but I believe I will have many more Thanksgivings in my future.

Dad might be in the hospital for three days but I hope they will move him over to the health facility again for some time in physical therapy and recuperation before sending him back home. That would give me time to be alone with you, and you privacy and time to heal. He's in and out of lucidity now.