Help for Healing

Bitter & Sweet, living daily with grief


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There’s No Place Like Home

After what seemed like forever, Dad returned to his apartment last Saturday. Of course all the preparation was for naught because the promises made to me on Friday were only empty words. When I arrived to get him, the staff had no idea he was being discharged and the paperwork wasn’t even printed out. After several hiccups, he was finally in his own apartment.

It’s been a bit of a roller coaster since then. Three hours after going home, I came back to visit him and he was shaking like a leaf with a fever. After consulting with a nurse, he took some Tylenol and seemed back to himself. The next day, the visiting nurse came to see him. His blood pressure dropped from 120 down to 80 (top number) when he went from sitting to standing. I almost had a heart attack myself when she said she had called in to see if he should be sent to the hospital. Thank God the answer was no. We both would have freaked out.

The next morning we were able to meet his new doctor. I asked if we should increase his low blood pressure med. She suggested we keep an eye on it this week before adjusting anything. Later that day my boyfriend and I were going to walk the dog when I got a call from Dad. He wasn’t feeling good. We went right over and he said he was feeling dizzy. He tried to get up from his chair and almost fell. Thank goodness I caught him.  I had my boys come over right away to stay with him while I worked. Then we went back later. He was already sleeping by 8 pm but he seemed stable.

Tuesday came and the visiting nurse called and said his BP was low. She said she would let me know how it was on Thursday. That brings me to today. I went to see Dad in the morning and his PT person happened to come at the same time. I told him it was good timing because Dad was struggling to stand up from the chair. The visiting nurse and her assistant showed up too. This time Dad’s BP was 80. When he stood up, it dropped to 60/40.  Seven different medical people later managed to convince Dad to go to the emergency room. He did not want to go and I didn’t blame him. We both had a good cry. They suspect he is dehydrated.

As I write, I am in the emergency room with him. His blood pressure is up to 119 with no intervention, not even fluids. There has been no doctor to see him yet so I have no idea what is happening. The best case would be some IV fluids and back to his apartment.  My heart breaks for him. He’s a good man who has lived a good life. He has been ready for what is next for well over a year. Instead, this is his sixth hospital visit in the last 14 months.

The folks where he lives have been great. It is obvious that in the short time Dad has lived there, he has made an impression. He is so well liked and everyone is so concerned for him. They are responsive. I told them all that there is nothing to increase your appreciation more than to be forced to be somewhere else for a while. Here, people do their jobs well and still have common sense and compassion.

Say your prayers for us. Exhausted doesn’t cover it. And whatever I feel, I am quite sure Dad’s suffering is much worse. It’s physical, but it is also just so very emotional.