Saturday, December 6, 2008
Yo Yo Pa
Dad had horrible night. He was in a deep sleep when his blood pressure went dangerously low. They woke him up, and kept working with him for hours. This morning he looked groggy and was crabby. The last two times he was discharged he was sent home as if they were expecting someone with a medical degree was waiting to take care of him at his house. I think he had boasted to hospital personnel about what great care I was giving him, while at the same time neglecting to say the part about how I work full time, am at the end of my rope physically, and have no past experience in taking care of an elderly ill person. "Yeah, my daughter, she's amazing! She nurses better than Florence Nightingale." "Oh, Wonderful! We'll send you home with no support." So this time I wanted to tell the discharge planner that he lives ALONE and has NO help. The nurse said "He's not going home yet." "I know, but I wanted to do it ahead because the last two times it was a fait acompli by the time they told me he was being discharged." So I talked to the discharge planner. Then two hours after they told me he's NOT going home, they call to tell me he WAS going home. Right then. Holy Mackerel! So, he's home. He's stable for now. Both of us told the doctor he doesn't feel well enough to be at home. Dad, in particular, said he didn't want to go home until they solved the problem. But he said "You came in with nausea, shortness of breath, and feeling like you were about to die." You don't have any of those symptoms anymore, so we're sending you home. Hmmm. So, he's at my house. In. Out. In. Out. Soon I'll have to be treated for a stomacheache caused by fear of the unknown.