Rainy Day Monday

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

A rainy Monday morning here in Cincinnati. 

Dad has been struggling to regain his strength and quiet his cough since arriving back home to Ohio after the long road trip from S. Carolina just one week ago today. Scott and I visited with them on Thoroughbred Lane between 4:00-5:30 yesterday, enjoying some brie, crackers and conversation as well as the aroma of pot roast and veggies and homemade gluten-free chocolate chip cookies.  We left just before dinnertime, as it is important for Dad to maintain his mealtime routines in order to properly manage his blood sugar. 

Health-wise, he moved slowly, often short of breath and complained about chronic weakness and inability to rally. Both Mom and Dad were less than thrilled at the prospect of the neurologist appointment he had on the schedule for this morning at 8:00 am.  Mom told us how challenging things are even on the best of mornings, stating that Dad seems to be only partially himself for the first few hours of the day. She says that until he's up awhile, eaten, taken his insulin and a breathing treatment, it's like he's in a sort of "stupor" (to which he, of course responded, "Who are you calling stupid?") Nonetheless, they were pretty much set to heroically do whatever it took to get there, since all other available appointments were far in the future. As we left yesterday evening, we wished them well, telling them not to hesitate to call if they needed anything. 

7:20 this morning, the phone rang. 

Mom said that when they woke at 6:30 am to prepare, they quickly determined there was no way they could manage it. She called to cancel and they both went back to bed (which means he went to his recliner in the den; she to the bed in their room). Somehow, he lost his balance and fell hard against the wall behind his chair. He banged his back and, once down, didn't have the strength to get up. Luckily, she was still awake and immediately called both us and 911. 

They determined that his temperature was over 103, his heart rate was very high, blood pressure low - and once again, took him to University Hospital by ambulance. 

We all arrived there by 8:30 am. They determined relatively quickly he would be admitted, however, by noon, we were still in the tiny ER room and he was pretty agitated with the service in the joint - he had not gotten the promised meal, could not get his insulin, nor could they fulfill on the seemingly simple request for a pillow to put behind his aching back. 

At this point, I don't have much clarity to offer regarding his condition. When we left, his fever was down below 100. His back pain was slightly less once the pain med kicked in. He still has pneumonia and the chest X-ray showed that his lungs look worse now than they did on his previous admittance to this hospital in September. They X-rayed his back, but I do not know the results. They were running blood work, and I know they were looking for sepsis, among other clues to his current status. He is in a private room on the 7th floor, which likely means the next time we visit, we'll be wearing a mask. Mom is tired and weary, but comforting and full of positive good humor and tender back rubs. Dad is really sick of being sick. We are all very grateful for all of the prayers and good thoughts and energy coming our way, thank you.

Breath by breath,

~Robin

p.s. I got this in my inbox today from Nic Askew, a talented poet and videographer to whom I subscribe, and it seemed pertinent....