Dad's gall bladder drain quit draining, so he's back in the hospital. The probability of course is that he will have a new one installed, but things are quite up in the air. I spent the morning with him in the ER and Margaret and I spent the afternoon with him in the ER and ICU. (I guess that deserves a "Don't be alarmed," too. ICU because he's nearly 94, I expect, rather than because he's in any dire shape.) It's sad that they don't have phones in ICU so he can't stay in as close touch as he likes. But maybe he'll get some rest.
The nurse didn't know for sure what was going on or when. They were waiting for the surgeon to come around and no one knew when that would be either. We were able to get Dad some food. He ate very little, but at least he ate, and he drank his milk. Both better than nothing.
His dialysis has been going better and worse. Better because he's feet are no longer swollen gigantic; worse because they've beat hell out of his arms trying to find his access. But the point is that if they need to do the procedure tomorrow and then do dialysis Saturday, it shouldn't be any problem. Well, except for the USC football game. A man has to have priorities.
No comments:
Post a Comment