The last I said anything my father was still in the hospital. Now he is home.
Dad:
I spent from December 2 to December 29 at his home in Southern California. He was supposed to be home during that time, but events didn’t work out that way. So, instead, I stayed at his place and visited him in the hospital every day. Most of the time that month he was in some kind of trouble. One complication after another, and the pain relief wasn’t enough in my opinion. Eventually they seemed to stop screwing up, and he was able to slowly start getting back on his feet. Then the problem became him being really weak from being in bed too long, and not getting enough exercise. Since they didn’t want him to get up on his own, he was kind of stuck. The hospital he was in had a special rehab floor he was on during the latter part of the month. When I left, that’s where he was.
Some of the time I was actually able to get work done, since wherever my laptop goes I can do some coding. I didn’t get fired, at any rate.
Me:
I was back home in the upper midwest from December 29 to January 8.
I had what has become my typical New Year’s thing, with a twist. I had dinner at my monday night haunt (a college bar I starting going to in grad school), hot wings and beer, and then drinkies at my friday night haunt downtown. Nothing special, but I was not disappointed either. The night ended with me having a nasty pain, probably a muscle pull of some kind that seems to hit randomly as I get older. While at the time death would have been a release, and I thought it might be time to call the ambulance, it got better as soon as I could lie down. A few hours later it was gone, and hasn’t showed its face since.
Otherwise, I did some of that household stuff that always needs doing, emptied the mouse trap of one dead undesired roommate, found that both full pistachio bags had been found and chewed open with the contents otherwise untouched, paid the bills, etc. It was weird, because this trip seemed more like a vacation than going home. I had already bought tickets to return to Southern California under the assumption that this time my father would be out of the hospital. The idea was for me to be there so my sister could go to work. I can work anywhere.
Dad:
My father finally got out of the hospital on January 7th. I arrived in Southern California on the evening of January 8th. Going from the mid 20s to the low 60s did not hurt my mood, though the flight was not a lot of fun. I was in the middle seat and couldn’t read because there wasn’t enough room for me to hold the book properly. Therefore I played “Dragon Warrior II” on my advance SP. It helped to pass the time.
He was pretty weak, and would not eat very much. We have had a parade of nurses and therapists going through. The nurse comes three times per week to change the sponge and tube on this vacuum pump thing that is helping a chest wound close faster. The physical and occupational therapists seem to both do exercises, so I really cannot tell what the difference is. I know intellectually, but in practice the difference is slim.
He is getting stronger slowly. We gave him a break the first week home, but this week we make him do exercises on the days the therapists don’t come. He is finally starting to eat more, though he isn’t gaining any weight. He lost about 30 pounds in the hospital, though some of it was probably a good thing. He could probably stand to eat more still. His diet has been more restricted for some reason I cannot fathom. I would think that he could just go back to eating like he wants to. He is 81. The fact that he survived this whole thing is a miracle. That second surgery he had almost killed him. It certainly left him in horrible shape. And now he cannot even get some reward for going through with the bypass and the consequent crap.
Later this afternoon I will take him for a walk. Before the surgery he could go all the way around the large loop his house is on. We’ll be lucky to do a third of that distance. And he will probably be annoyed with me for making him go.
Me:
In the mean time, I managed to damage a nerve in my shoulder. I got my arm in a bad position without realizing it (alcohol was involved) and stayed that way too long. The mid deltoid in my right shoulder will not fire, so I cannot lift my arm very high. Otherwise it works fine, I can type and stuff and moving it with my other hand doesn’t cause any pain. There are times I have to use my left hand for stuff I normally use my right hand for, but I’m ambidextrous so that isn’t a huge problem.
I have had this kind of thing happen before; after a surgery in 1990 in which they tied me to a board with my arms outstretched (the last thing I remember before the amnesia took hold) the bicep in my right arm didn’t work. I went through an MRI and a bunch of other diagnosis, and they told me, “Yeah, you have some nerve damage. The nerves will grow back in time.” They told me 6 months, and I know it got better much sooner than that though I cannot remember how long it took. One day it simply started working again. So this time I have not gone to a doctor, since they will very likely tell me the same thing. Also, my deductable is over $2K and I cannot see spending the money for a diagnosis I probably already know. The muscles in my neck (which was already a problem the day I flew in) and shoulder and arm hurt a bit, especially after sleeping all night on that shoulder (it is worse sleeping on the other side, and i cannot sleep on my back), but that is getting better every day. I take Ibuprofen for that, and stopped drinking any alcohol as a result to avoid interaction problems.
I may change my mind and go to a doctor when I get back home. My flight leaves on February 2. I have not scheduled another flight to So-Cal yet. I would not be surprised if I end up coming back here. If I’m here for the bulk of February and March, I will entirely miss the worst of winter. One plus in this whole mess.