Good news

Dad is so much better that this morning he wheeled over to the sunroom on his floor and called mom from the phone there.  She squealed with joy when she heard his voice.  What a pair!   The next call was for me from the occupational therapist.  Yesterday I had asked to talk with someone about the procedures the hospital has for the release of patients like my dad, so I was pleased to get such a quick response.  Mom, always alert to everything in her ken, surreptitiously listened to my every word.  The woman said that they have a comprehensive discharge system that includes looking at the place the patient will be returning to and making sure it is suitable.  Am I glad to hear that!  Dad’s room is a rabbit warren of clutter and jerry rigged stuff.  He’s had both his falls there because he can’t get the walker into the cramped corner where the television is and where they each have a comfy chair, footstool and tv. table, not to mention magazine rack and book shelf with a complicated light system that involves dangerous old cords wedged behind books and around a pipe rack full of pipes dad hasn’t smoked in two or three decades.  I’m afraid to touch anything in the house because it’s all in such a state of decrepitude it could crumble at any minute.  I just hope I make it out on Monday without having ruined one of the many old things on which they depend but which are as fragile as mom and dad are frail.  The occupational therapist asked me about mom’s health because dad always says he has his wife at home and that they can get along quite well alone, but the staff have noticed that mom is quite tiny and stooped and wondered if she would be up to it.  In the politest way possible, I told her that mom is small but a powerhouse.  This isn’t entirely true; she tires easily now but her will is still up to anything, and I certainly don’t have the courage to raise her ire by suggesting within her hearing to anyone at the hospital that she might not be up to managing the apartment with dad.  ‘The Force’ is still with her, and she can move material objects with one of her looks.  She can make me leave the scene with a pained glance and a waft of the hand.  I didn’t have much to tell her after the call because my half of the talking had pretty well painted the picture.  After years of reaching conclusions based on the bare minimum of information, she knew what was up and was pleased.  Whew!!!!!  Dad’s release is not imminent, but mine is.

I called Dr. Inkpen’s office ( Mac isn’t happy with that word, but that’s his name) yesterday and got an appointment for next Wednesday.  I’m happy about that for 3 reasons:  a) my shoulder is making no progress, and even though the physio. said that the nerve could take as long as 5 months to recover, it’s hard to keep up the exercises with no results, so I’m ready for a second opinion.  

                b) I have a legitimate reason to leave mom and dad to do what they must, make their own decisions about their future.  I was so desperate not to get involved that I was willing to say I had an appointment even if I didn’t.

    c) Mom and I will not be able to keep our fragile truce for much longer.  I’m overjoyed to hear that things are carrying on in Korea as they have for 60 years, but mom and I aren’t capable of that.