Saturday, August 26, 2006

o8.25.o6...the smell of hospitals in winter...

"All are against me"
"I will get even"
"I have kidneys"...later deciphered by Mike as "I've been kidnapped."

It's what was written on the note that Sandy found next to Dad's hospital bed yesterday morning. It's probably the first thing he's written down in over a year. Who knows what was going on inside his head.

Yes, Dad ended up in the hospital due to his dehydration and according to the nurses was not being very cooperative after everyone went home on Wednesday...so we've had to keep a bedside "dad watch" for the last two days to make sure he doesn't defeat the purpose of the hospital by pulling out his i.v. By the time I got up there to spend the night on thursday, he had already pulled out his i.v. and the doctor finally said he was doing well enough not to start another. But it was still a restless night and I had one eye open and one shut all night.

I sat watching him and saw how hard the simplest tasks have become for him and I wonder...what are we going to be like when we're his age. It reminded me of a short story I read about an elderly lady that had asked a young man living in her apartment buiding to help her with her groceries. He helped her often, but one day a friend was with him and the old lady was having trouble with something and the young man rolled his eyes and the friend snickered...and she said "you'll be old someday, too." Thinking about "us" in his shoes and me...who will probably be trying to manage...alone...puts things in perspective and hopefully helps me be a little more compassionate...when all I want to do is be frustrated with his obessiveness and his "then get the hell out of here..." grouchiness. I did tell Sandy that I want to practice being "less bob" and "more helen"...and will try not to obess over tags touching me so much...because when you are his age....it only gets amplified. In the meantime as I wait for him to quit fussing with the sheets and getting them just right so he can sleep, he's still the man that worked everyday to put food on our table and paid way more than he had on hand for my college education (which then I didn't use), he's still a veteren of war and a german prison camp and he's still the same baby boy, son, young man, smiling fisherman, businessman, husband, dad, uncle, friend and grandpa...that I've been looking at all week in these pictures of him that I've been working on getting ready for his birthday party.

He's back at Whittenburg now. It was amazing how less grouchy he was once he got his own clothes on. Hopefully he can keep up the eating and drinking and get his strength back...at least he's out of the hospital and will be able to make it to the Birthday...Log Cabin Party. Aunt Mary and Barb are on there way here for the big weekend.

Directions to here: This inscription is the truth...no matter what.

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