A Rough Week

After the celebrations on the weekend, Monday did not bring good things our way.  Monday evening was spent with text and phone conversations volleying back and forth over who could get my dad to a Tuesday appointment.  Tuesday was the one day of work that I could not miss this week.  Not only that, it was a particularly long work day as we also had open house.  It was finally decided that Andy would take a long lunch and get Dad to his appointment.  That never happened.

Monday night the phone calls changed.  Dad would still need a ride to his appointment, but his foot was looking so bad, and he could not bear weight on it, so  Tiffany opted to take him to the ER.  She was out on the Tuesday appointment because she had one sick day left for the year because that's how things go for a widowed single mom.  They arrived in the ER at about 10:30p.m.  Tiffany left shortly after 4:00a.m., and Dad had not yet been seen.  Within an hour he was admitted.  We were then scrambling to cancel the Tuesday appointment so that he would not be stressed about it.  Tiffany ended up giving up her sick day.

The rest of the week was a series of ups and downs about Dad.  I finally took a sick day on Friday because it looked like surgery was imminent.  Surgery is a big deal for anyone.  We recently heard of a family facing the aftermath of losing a brother in his early twenties who died after complications from a minor surgery.  Dad has a lot going on, so surgery for him is risky whether minor or not.  I was the only one who ever managed to be at the hospital when a doctor was there, and he was a minor player in all the decisions being bounced around.  Apparently, right after I left, and surgery was not the plan of action, that same doctor returned and changed the game to surgery being imminent again.  We were beyond frustrated at that point and ready to insist on another opinion.  Further tests stopped the surgery plan, and we are all relieved.

Dad clearly felt well enough at the hospital as he relentlessly harassed the nurses on everything from their political views to whether they could handle a difficult patient like him and would need a Code 5 to bring in male staff to hold him down.  He is quite the kidder, and honestly, other than a young and naive nurse or two, I think they got a kick out of him and were probably okay with having a patient who felt well enough to give and take some jabs.  The chaplain really got a kick out of him, and one nurses' aide apologized to Tiffany for having to put up with a dad like that.

I think he gets to return home today.  The medicine he will be taking over the next several weeks is dangerous, so he still needs prayer, but I think we are all a bit more relieved at this point.