Update on my dad

My dad had his surgery on the 11th, and, he is finally on the mend.

I have to say, it has been rough. The surgery itself was completed without a problem. He was out of the hospital the next afternoon, and, even though I’m a nurse, I somehow didn’t think this thing all the way through about what it meant for me as the lone caregiver.

When my mother was ill, I spent a lot of time away from home with her in the hospital, but, when she was at home it was different in that my father was the primary caregiver, and, quite frankly, there were not expectations that she would get any better.

This time, I was so fixated on being at the hospital again (he had his surgery the same place my mother spent a lot of time) and trying not to let my post-traumatic feelings surface, I forgot about what it meant to have surgery and go home to recover.

The first day he was home things went quite well, but, it quickly deteriorated for a while from there. It was nothing abnormal or anything, just regular recovery from a big surgery. But, for me it meant staying with my dad night and day and picking his 6’2″ self up out of the chair and off the toilet.

He takes blood thinner and really isn’t one to say much when he feels there’s something wrong, so, the combination of those two things caused me to have to ask a lot of assessment questions over the first few days.

Um, yeah, he doesn’t like to be asked questions. Good times, people, good times.

It was while he was having trouble with nausea and not eating that it occured to me that he actually might not get any better.

I admit to having a slant toward the pessimistic about many things, but, that was the first time it occured to me that his problems might not go away. After all, though it is a routine surgery, it is a big one and can be tough on a 74 year old.

These thoughts, combined with the fact that I hadn’t been home in 5 days, pushed me even closer to rocking in a corner and drooling somewhere.  My MIL was in town helping out with the kids, and, everything was fine at home, but, there was only one other time in my life that I felt a more profound need to be two places at once.

That time was when my mother was actively dying and I, for reasons I can’t recall right now, was left alone in the room with her and my 4 year old.

Anyway, sometime around the time I was contemplating driving down the Interstate and not stopping until I got to the beach, he just kind of got up and walked. He left the walker behind and moved to a cane.  He even resumed trying to kill me with his cell phone.

But, things still weren’t right. He was unable to see the progress he had made and seemed kind of depressed, which is very unlike him.

Things seemed to have turned around yesterday, which, not coincidentally, was the day he could drive again. He got up and drove to breakfast, and, to the bank and was happy as a clam. There is the small detail that I’m not sure he can put the brakes on quickly or turn around to back up, but, I am just planning to stay off the road when he’s on it, right now ;)

He got up this morning and went to church. I got concerned when he said it was, “hard”. Upon further questioning (see? I really do have to question him), I found out the hard part was kneeling!

There’s no kneeling in back surgery!

Anyway, he’s finally perked up a bit and is making plans to go back to work. He sees the surgeon on Tuesday for a re-check, so, I guess he’s on his way.