Things have been tough for Pop lately. His health is definitely on the decline and today he had to be brought to the hospital through the emergency room. He's being checked thoroughly as we speak.
The demands have been a lot to handle, for all involved. While I have a job that has allowed a lot of flexibility, I just haven't been able to be as available as I would like to. And today was one of those times. I was just too far away to be able to get back here to take him up to the hospital.
For those unfamiliar with the situation, we have him living here with us. His hospital is a Veterans Administration hospital, and the one we chose to use is in another state because the one that is more local is just not a place we're comfortable with. It's about 125 miles from home to the hospital we use, but it's definitely worth the drive.
Getting back to today, he woke up with some complaints of discomfort. It's been a pretty solid line of complaint with him, so at first it just seemed to be business as usual that would be handled with the medicines. But it became evident that this was not the typical situation.
She and her sister got him into the van and took the drive up while I worked and then got home to our kids. We're in a holding pattern. He's been to the brink and back quite a few times now, but always manages to bounce back. He's definitely faded now, and he looks terrible, but I'd not bet against him just yet.
You don't quite see the time passing. You don't realize that 24 hours just doesn't seem to be enough. We must be doing a decent job because his prognosis was 6 months in September, and here it is almost June. We do our best to provide the best care we can around here. We try to follow the prescription directions very closely, although that isn't always easy, because it sometimes requires the ability to say "no" when he wants to exceed the dosages. I took lessons in wound care, and we got a bedsore to heal up completely. He does his best to keep me in practice though, he's always cutting or scraping something or another. I have a fully-stocked first aid kit and luckily I'm not squeamish. I was taught that, at this stage, no wound is to be taken lightly or ignored. Apparently, the feet are particularly susceptible to problems.
The one casualty is the amount of time that's lost. When you're so involved with things, you don't realize how fast it goes. I miss my friends here, but I want everyone to know that I get by when I can.
Wish us luck. I'm not sure what the outcome is going to be just yet. As I said, he's bounced back plenty of times before.