And, this week has been one massive headache.
It began, as it almost always seems to do, with an email - a fairly innoucous email as emails go.
"Dad fell; he's okay."
Not an uncommon email; in fact since not recovering from his last fall, fairly common. Dad never accomplished standing on his own two feet since that fall, but he "forgets" that and attempts to get out of his bed/wheel chair.
So, the email failed to cause any great consternation.
Still no great consternation here; we've been there, done that, don't much want the tshirt, but so it goes.
And, a bit later...the email that caused the great potato chip and cream cheese feast.
Dad's broken his hip and fractured his leg; surgery will be in the next 24 hours.
Dad suffers from dementia; surgery "enhances" the dementia, and Dad is not known for being cooperative when he's scared.
Imagine waking up in unending pain, not knowing where you are, and generally living during the time period of WW 2. The instinctive fright/flight response kicks in, and flight is not an option. So, you punch, swear, kick, and carry on, detemined to save yourself. Reality is not an option on this menu. I began slathering chips with cream cheese. In fact, I sent my husband to go buy them, as I've learned not to keep this combination in my house.
But, a few hours later, an email stated that my sister and the doctor discussed DNR. Dad had begun to exhibit a whole host of complications, all of them pointing to the fact that I needed to get to PA (3 1/2 hours away) fairly quickly. My boss made it possible, lesson plans got written, emails answered, and I was on my way.
My sister, husband, and I kept dad company in the waiting room. Somehow, he knew we belonged to him. Denise patiently feed him drops of ice water; I held his hand and stroked him. We both kept reassuring him as best we could. Over the next few hours, we calmed him enough that the nurses could draw his blood, something not possible earlier that morning.
Dad cried when we left.
I'm back in VA at the moment; the icy weather and wintery mix don't allow for much travel at the moment. And, I think about dad and wish I could be there to hold his hand.