I’m having trouble writing about anything except my dad. It’s not like there aren’t good things going on around here. Still, the only thing I can think about lately is my dad.
How is he this morning? Any improvement this afternoon? I obsessively wait for my mom’s phone call and when she doesn’t call as soon as I’d like I call the ICU desk to get an update on his condition. I’m constantly thinking about whether I should be flying down there right. this. minute.
I really don’t want to see my dad in the hospital. I’m sure he’s quite a sight right now. I try not to imagine all of the bandages on his head, tubes in his chest, machines and wires and gizmos attached to him. I want to see him and reassure myself that all this medical drama is not so bad but I’d rather fly down there when he gets home and is feeling better so we can talk and laugh and do stupid computer stuff.
I spend a lot of time on the internet looking up his symptoms and procedures. Then worrying about them obsessively and calling my sister Wanda who is doing the same thing. We share our internet finds and then discuss in detail exactly what they might mean. Today is Day 9 in the ICU and there are still problems. This morning the doctors removed 760 cc of fluid from his right lung. I googled all kinds of combinations of words regarding fluid and lungs, trying to figure out exactly how bad that is. Now I’m trying to convince myself that he doesn’t have congestive heart failure. Even though I know his heart is damaged from the 2 heart attacks.
It also doesn’t help that the last 2 episodes of House (my favorite show) have featured problems my dad has experienced. On Sunday night, the gal had a collapsed lung and nearly died. Last night, the girl’s blood oxygen levels dropped to 85 and everyone went into a controlled panic as she struggled to breathe. 85 - meh. That’s nothing. My dad’s dropped to 73 just the other day.
My mom has stopped telling me that he’s doing really good - I’m not sure if that’s in response to me or whether it’s because she’s realized that he’s really not doing good. Today my dad sent me a message to stop obsessing and to “get off the flipping internet!”
So in an effort to not write about my dad today, I scoured my brain for happy news. And realized that I never even mentioned Violet’s birthday the other day and didn’t share any of her pictures. So…Violet’s 10. Here’s her pictures. (how’s that for happy and chipper ?)
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