Friday, February 4, 2011

Why now, Dad?

Why did you choose now to become sick? I'm trying to pack before I have surgery next week, and I'm moving to PA in early March.So I'm just a bit busy, and you choose NOW to have difficulty breathing?

*sigh* I'm trying to take it in stride. I might even sound flippant about it. But my Dad was rushed to the hospital Wednesday night because he was having difficulty breathing. According to mom, he has a lot of fluid in his lungs. That was the report I received at around 7:00 AM yesterday. Moments ago, mom (my step-mother) called again to let me know that "they" are hoping to remove the intubation tube from my father's throat; that there's a lot of fluid in Dad's lungs, and it has to be removed slowly so as not to cause issues with other bodily systems.

But all of this information is by way of a nurse to my mom to me. If you've every played the game of Telephone, you know that the message can change, and unless you talk to the original source, you don't know what was said the first time around. I would ask for information so I could call the hospital...but I have the sense that mom would rather I didn't. Besides, bothering the nurse when I'd rather she be taking care of my father isn't exactly smart.

The reality is that I'm pretty scared. Dad will officially be 80 next month. To my uneducated ear, it sounds like Dad has pneumonia. To mom, it sounds like congestive heart failure. Neither is good, as both can lead to death. And it's making me a little crazy as to what I should do at this moment.

My first instinct is to run to NY. I want to spend time with my Dad, and allow him to see how much I care; that I came running when he needed family the most. (G-d knows Barry isn't going to go see him.) Alas, there would be nowhere for me to stay once I reached NY. It would take the generosity of a millionaire to afford a motel, as when I went to see Stu when he was sick a few years ago.

But even if I had the financial capacity to run to Dad, I have doctor appointments. I see the pain specialist on Monday. I have surgery on Wednesday on my left knee. I'm paying a visit to my PCP on the 16th, as I haven't been to that office since May of last year. On top of that, Becky will should be here on 6 March, the day after my father's birthday, to move me to PA. She'll get a couple of day's rest. They, bright and early, we'll pack the vehicle with what little I own and spend the next two days on the road. Then, and only then, will I have any kind of real time to myself to run to the aid of loved ones in medical distress.

Of course, if my father were to pass on, I'd drop everything. That's the reality of it. I would even cancel the surgery, as my painful knee is not a life-threatening situation. I'd also cancel various doctor appointments, rescheduling if I can. And if not, then I'll simply have to wait until I'm in PA to address my medical needs. (Nothing that would kill me will be ignored. I can live with pain, but will adress things like my diabetes first. A dead Rob visits no one.)

And now, I need to go and start getting ready for my pre-surgical visit at the surgeon's office. This is where they sit me down and tell me what to expect...as if I didn't already know, as this guy has operated on me three times since last May.

I hope those who are still reading are having a better time of things than I am. I suppose that's the long version of: BE WELL!

EDIT: The intubation tube was removed and Dad called mom to let her know he was doing okay. That was a relief for all of us.

1 comment:

Zeb The Troll said...

Good to hear things are looking up for your dad, Rob.