The three pictures in today’s post will help catch you up with where I’ve been since before the big holiday. There’s been some brutal reality and some brutal self-analysis during this holiday and New Year season.
Last time I wrote, we were quite excited about both sets of parental units being at Castle Typo. My parents arrived late afternoon on the 23rd and the King’s parents arrived late that evening. I had meals planned, the schedule for food preparation was in my head, I had identified the remaining last-minute errands and made the final shopping lists. On Christmas Eve we all sat down to Rustic Tomato soup (homemade and a gem dandy if I do say so myself) for lunch.
My dad hadn’t been feeling well and after we gave thanks for the food/blessings/etc, but before anyone got to take a bite he asked my mom to take his pulse. She couldn’t find it so I tried; his pulse rate was about 158 and we then took his blood pressure, which was scary-high also. I told Dad to get his coat; we were headed for the ER.
Of course, I am the Queen of Typos, but I’m also the Queen of Falling Down, so those of you who know me know what’s coming next. I ran for Mom’s SUV and on my
way out of the garage, I tripped on air and went down hard on my knee. Then I heard Dad ask, “Where’d she go” and all I could do was laugh through the pain. I only banged myself up, but Mom had to back the SUV/Beast/GMC Yukon out of the driveway and then I could drive.
At the local university hospital Mom and Dad went into the ER; I parked two counties away and met Mom later in the waiting room. They worked to ensure that Mom and I knew what was going on most of the time, there was a crazy hour or two in the waiting room, but compared to other hospitals, this wasn’t bad at all. Anyone who’s ever waiting in the Parkland ER (or any other large city/county hospital) waiting room knows what I’m talking about. However, they took Dad straight back and began work on him immediately. His blood/oxygen saturation level was under 60% and his blood pressure was still about stroke level.
The first picture is taken of Mom while we were in the waiting room of the emergency room. I had just called my sister and “the kids” (my niece & nephew, two dogs) to let them know that the holiday had what we hoped was a little burp and that hopefully we’d all go home shortly. I remember thinking that I had to document it if it was going to be a funny story later for the scrapbooks. So I took a picture of Mom checking her messages. Dad was later admitted to CCU, or Seven South, with what was initially diagnosed as congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, the beginning of emphysema, and type-II diabetes.
Dad smoked all of my life and I don’t know how long before that. He split it about 50% -50% between cigarettes and a pipe and then when he quit smoking, he began dipping snuff almost 20 year ago. He also pretty much ate what he wanted and drank what he wanted. I know that a lot of my life habits are based on the same mentality and that only I can change that. I am just so grateful I was able to walk away from smoking 13 months (and yes, I’m still counting) ago.
As an aside, I have to say I’m impressed with the hospital every step of the way. The nursing teams, housekeeping teams and everyone were respectful, caring and genuinely kind. It’s a shame the housekeeping staff had been trimmed so much for cost-cutting measures. I never got to meet the doctors, but their credentials look good.
On Christmas morning, Mom was at the hospital and I didn’t remember to take pictures of anything or anyone. The King and I went to the hospital later in the morning when we took
this picture of Dad and returned to fix dinner to serve around 3 pm. I’m learning more about the Queen and how she handles (or doesn’t handle) stress. I couldn’t remember how to make gravy, I forgot to take the rolls out of the freezer and allow them to rise, I forgot to put raw eggs in the dressing, and I left the neck in the turkey. I took the second picture of Dad on Christmas morning.
Dad spent a week in the hospital, coming home on the 30th. He lost a tremendous amount of fluid weight during that time and was still on diuretics upon release. Mom and I were scared to let Dad do any driving, so I did the driving back to Texas. We took two days to make that trip, making frequent stops to pick up oxygen cylinders, potty stops and once to spend the night. We drove to my uncle’s house where we met with my sister and “the kids”. We all had lunch together and took the third photograph. My sister (the Princess of Typos?) drove me back to the airport and I flew back to the desert to kiss my husband at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Since then, Dad spent a week at home, learning more about a new diet and lifestyle and adjusting to life without tobacco. This past Thursday, he had an appointment with a cardiologist in his hometown but Mom had to cancel it and take Dad straight to the emergency room. This time, the local doctor first said pneumonia and then lung fibrosis. Either way his lungs are failing, his kidneys are failing and he is anemic and dehydrated. When the doctors try to adjust one thing, then his blood sugar goes out of whack. Doctors are unable to run a dye contrast CT on his lungs because his kidneys are too weak and the dye would cause his kidneys to completely shut down.
Today we got good news and his kidneys are doing much better. Hopefully that’s one system that will stabilize and then doctors can move to the others. Please send prayers, good wishes, blessings, spells, whatever your little heart desires to the continued improvement and return to good health for my father.
Here’s a not-so-funny story that is beginning to be funny but really wasn’t on Friday when it happened. Friday afternoon when I got ready to leave the office I couldn’t find my car keys. I keep two rings and separate them at work, leaving the car keys in my purse. Well, two people helped me look. We dumped my purse and went through it and my lunch bag item by item. We went through my jacket, including pockets AND lining. No keys. I finally conceded that maybe I had left them in the car and loaded myself up to go downstairs and check. As I stepped away from the curb in front of my building and looked at my car, I realized the headlights were still on. Hmmm…that meant that….hmm, how could that happen…unless…oh shit! I had not only left the keys in the car, I had left them in the ignition, which meant the door had not locked and the car running available for who ever wanted to take it (at that point I wouldn’t even call it stealing, I had essentially given the car away) for eight hours. Only about 20 miles later did it really begin to sink in. Yes, the Queen of Typos is learning about stress and that she really must deal with it, it won’t go away.
Last time I wrote, we were quite excited about both sets of parental units being at Castle Typo. My parents arrived late afternoon on the 23rd and the King’s parents arrived late that evening. I had meals planned, the schedule for food preparation was in my head, I had identified the remaining last-minute errands and made the final shopping lists. On Christmas Eve we all sat down to Rustic Tomato soup (homemade and a gem dandy if I do say so myself) for lunch.
My dad hadn’t been feeling well and after we gave thanks for the food/blessings/etc, but before anyone got to take a bite he asked my mom to take his pulse. She couldn’t find it so I tried; his pulse rate was about 158 and we then took his blood pressure, which was scary-high also. I told Dad to get his coat; we were headed for the ER.
Of course, I am the Queen of Typos, but I’m also the Queen of Falling Down, so those of you who know me know what’s coming next. I ran for Mom’s SUV and on my
way out of the garage, I tripped on air and went down hard on my knee. Then I heard Dad ask, “Where’d she go” and all I could do was laugh through the pain. I only banged myself up, but Mom had to back the SUV/Beast/GMC Yukon out of the driveway and then I could drive.At the local university hospital Mom and Dad went into the ER; I parked two counties away and met Mom later in the waiting room. They worked to ensure that Mom and I knew what was going on most of the time, there was a crazy hour or two in the waiting room, but compared to other hospitals, this wasn’t bad at all. Anyone who’s ever waiting in the Parkland ER (or any other large city/county hospital) waiting room knows what I’m talking about. However, they took Dad straight back and began work on him immediately. His blood/oxygen saturation level was under 60% and his blood pressure was still about stroke level.
The first picture is taken of Mom while we were in the waiting room of the emergency room. I had just called my sister and “the kids” (my niece & nephew, two dogs) to let them know that the holiday had what we hoped was a little burp and that hopefully we’d all go home shortly. I remember thinking that I had to document it if it was going to be a funny story later for the scrapbooks. So I took a picture of Mom checking her messages. Dad was later admitted to CCU, or Seven South, with what was initially diagnosed as congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation, the beginning of emphysema, and type-II diabetes.
Dad smoked all of my life and I don’t know how long before that. He split it about 50% -50% between cigarettes and a pipe and then when he quit smoking, he began dipping snuff almost 20 year ago. He also pretty much ate what he wanted and drank what he wanted. I know that a lot of my life habits are based on the same mentality and that only I can change that. I am just so grateful I was able to walk away from smoking 13 months (and yes, I’m still counting) ago.
As an aside, I have to say I’m impressed with the hospital every step of the way. The nursing teams, housekeeping teams and everyone were respectful, caring and genuinely kind. It’s a shame the housekeeping staff had been trimmed so much for cost-cutting measures. I never got to meet the doctors, but their credentials look good.
On Christmas morning, Mom was at the hospital and I didn’t remember to take pictures of anything or anyone. The King and I went to the hospital later in the morning when we took
this picture of Dad and returned to fix dinner to serve around 3 pm. I’m learning more about the Queen and how she handles (or doesn’t handle) stress. I couldn’t remember how to make gravy, I forgot to take the rolls out of the freezer and allow them to rise, I forgot to put raw eggs in the dressing, and I left the neck in the turkey. I took the second picture of Dad on Christmas morning.Dad spent a week in the hospital, coming home on the 30th. He lost a tremendous amount of fluid weight during that time and was still on diuretics upon release. Mom and I were scared to let Dad do any driving, so I did the driving back to Texas. We took two days to make that trip, making frequent stops to pick up oxygen cylinders, potty stops and once to spend the night. We drove to my uncle’s house where we met with my sister and “the kids”. We all had lunch together and took the third photograph. My sister (the Princess of Typos?) drove me back to the airport and I flew back to the desert to kiss my husband at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Since then, Dad spent a week at home, learning more about a new diet and lifestyle and adjusting to life without tobacco. This past Thursday, he had an appointment with a cardiologist in his hometown but Mom had to cancel it and take Dad straight to the emergency room. This time, the local doctor first said pneumonia and then lung fibrosis. Either way his lungs are failing, his kidneys are failing and he is anemic and dehydrated. When the doctors try to adjust one thing, then his blood sugar goes out of whack. Doctors are unable to run a dye contrast CT on his lungs because his kidneys are too weak and the dye would cause his kidneys to completely shut down.
Today we got good news and his kidneys are doing much better. Hopefully that’s one system that will stabilize and then doctors can move to the others. Please send prayers, good wishes, blessings, spells, whatever your little heart desires to the continued improvement and return to good health for my father.
Here’s a not-so-funny story that is beginning to be funny but really wasn’t on Friday when it happened. Friday afternoon when I got ready to leave the office I couldn’t find my car keys. I keep two rings and separate them at work, leaving the car keys in my purse. Well, two people helped me look. We dumped my purse and went through it and my lunch bag item by item. We went through my jacket, including pockets AND lining. No keys. I finally conceded that maybe I had left them in the car and loaded myself up to go downstairs and check. As I stepped away from the curb in front of my building and looked at my car, I realized the headlights were still on. Hmmm…that meant that….hmm, how could that happen…unless…oh shit! I had not only left the keys in the car, I had left them in the ignition, which meant the door had not locked and the car running available for who ever wanted to take it (at that point I wouldn’t even call it stealing, I had essentially given the car away) for eight hours. Only about 20 miles later did it really begin to sink in. Yes, the Queen of Typos is learning about stress and that she really must deal with it, it won’t go away.
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