Monday started with picking up my friends at 7:45 am. We were due at the local hospital test lab for a routine blood workup to monitor the husband’s progress on various health issues. I pulled the car into a handicapped slot in the garage, and the husband walked into the building for the tests. His wife and I remained in the car. I told him, call me if you need me.
He did. The weak message: “I fell and can’t get up. Help!”
His wife and I jumped out of the car and entered the hospital. There he was at the information desk. On the floor, in a pool of urine. Several staff members surrounded him, a foot offered for a pillow for his head. ER staff were on the way.
I spoke with the desk staff. Everyone feared his fall to the hard floor may have broken his leg, or worse, his hip.
Carefully, they moved him to a backboard in screaming agony, then to a gurney, and finally he was led away to the ER. Wife and I followed with another escort.
In the ER the diagnosis was confirmed. Broken hip. He had to be admitted. An orthopedic surgeon would be summoned to schedule hip replacement surgery either this evening, or tomorrow. Meanwhile, painkillers were injected to make him as comfortable as possible.
The fall was at 8:09 am. ER was 8:15. He was moved to a regular hospital room at 11:15. His wife and I went out for a McDonald’s breakfast, pay the couple’s apartment rent, visit their apartment for a change of clothes and more personal effects, and then back to the hospital.
By 1 pm the patient was sedated and fed lunch. Exhausted we fell into chairs and tried to understand what lay ahead.
Many phone calls were made. Family members were called for action to help mom and dad at this special time. That was not easy to arrange. The kids were spread far, and some were not available to help due to illness, childcare issues, and employment obligations.
As the day moved along, the wife and I went to the hospital cafeteria for supper. Then back to the patient’s room. Daughter had arrived and was organizing things. I took his wife and headed for my home where she would sleep on our sofa and regain composure. And rest.
Complications exist. Of course. They just do as in most cases like this. A son has a history of alcohol abuse and is incapable of managing his own affairs at this time. Of course he called his dad; I answered the call, told him we were in the hospital. He needed money so he would not be living on the street. We couldn’t help. Somehow he found his way to his sister's home. She couldn’t help him because she was working and had small children to care for. Meanwhile, her mother (patient’s wife) has dementia and cannot be left alone. She wanders and doesn’t know where she is.
So we have a patient in hospital awaiting surgery, a wife with dementia needing constant supervision, a son in need of institutionalization, and the remainder of the family in despair wondering what to do.
Of course I brought the wife home so we could keep an eye on her.
We went to bed at 9 pm. Awoke at midnight with endless questions about where’s Dad, son, daughter, etc. It is now 1:45 am and I am writing this blog posting. I will publish it Thursday morning, two days later.
Today’s agenda is more sleep, breakfast, shower and shave, then on to the hospital. We will watch over the patient as he goes into surgery and recovers from it.
The road ahead is long. Where it will take us, we do not know.
We hope. And pray a little.
March 12, 2020
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