...the hospital, that is. Daddy is back in the hospital.
Yesterday about 6:50am, my phone rang (which is never a good sign) and it was Bertie saying that she needed help. He'd been up all night long for the past few nights and neither of them was resting at all. So, I brushed my hair, threw on some clothes and away I went.
Long story short, he's still very confused, was running a fever (what I would consider low grade), had some pretty serious stomach issues (I'll spare you the detail) and just acted like he was hurting all over. He has been eating and drinking fairly well, but it doesn't seem to stay with him. Anyway, we finally called the doctor about 3:30pm and luckily it was his doctor on call (always nice since they know his history). He said he thought there was more going on (no duh) and that we should take him to the ER.
Well, that probably sounds alot easier than it was. Try to convince and 81 year old man who is sick and severely confused AND who has severe paranoia last time that being in the hospital was a conspiracy against him, that he has to go back. Yeah...it didn't go well. We actually had to get one of Bertie's male family members to come and help us get him to the car. To say it was emotionally draining would be an understatement.
Anyway, they did find right away a UTI in the catheter so they removed it. Last I hear about 9pm last night, they had started an IV antibiotic and had taken him down for another CT scan and were waiting on the radiologist to read it. Most likely they will keep him for at least 72 hours and then they will send him to skilled nursing or inpatient rehab like we should have done before. He can stay in skilled nursing for 100 days and insurance will cover it. After that...well...it is a nursing home unless things start really looking up.
I'll tell you...yesterday was probably one of the hardest days of my life. I am NOT wired to do the elder-care thing. Never have been. Even when I was a teen in the youth group at Radnor, I always hated doing activities at nursing homes and such. I just am not built that way. And God is asking me to stretch and honestly folks, it hurts. It hurts my heart and my mind and my body. I was physically nauseous yesterday afternoon at the thought of having to take him back to the hospital.
Steve took Jenna on to church and took care of her all day long while I was out of pocket. I really wanted him to come along. Heck, I had to fight the urge to run next door to my neighbor's house (Aimee is a nurse) and beg her to accompany me. But I felt it was something I needed to do alone. On the way there, I had a long conversation with God. And what He said to me was that I was NEVER alone. He was right there with me. And I know this is true because I think I prayed literally all the way over to their house (which is about a 40 minute drive) and then prayed quite often once I got over there. And I have no doubt I would not have made it had he not carried me through it.
But even yesterday wasn't the last of it. I think the worst is yet to come and I do not mean death. Death would be the easy thing to deal with at this point. To put it into perspective, the one thing I remember Daddy saying over and over again from when I was a kid up until recently..."I don't want to be a burden on my family". And being in a nursing home and seeing Bertie and I broken with grief and worry...well, it's a HUGE burden for us to carry. And he would not want that.
I do not know really what God is trying to teach me through this. And I might not ever know. What I do know is that He is walking with me through it and I am NEVER alone. I do covet your prayers during this journey of my life.
And I'll let you know when I know more...