Bozgratch

Good morning all. It’s in the 60’s outside and inside it’s… well…. confusing.

I dawdled a little getting in here this morning, anticipating that with the surgery I’d be here later in the day than usual. But things change.

Dad was sleeping when I arrived,  so I let him snooze for a bit.  Dr. Flickinger was around and so I had time to speak with him during the quiet time and it was one of those steady-state conversations… not up, not down.

The speech therapist came round to do e-stim and he kind of got roused out of sleep for that.  A little way into the therapy he asked her to stop the treatment.  Then he said he didn’t want ANY treatments. We talked about the surgery and he didn’t want THAT either.  He said he was in pain — on a 1-10 scale a 10, but then a few minutes later he said he was Ok. 

Pain can certainly make one say all sorts of things, so no one is jumping to any conclusions.  

Since then he has been fast asleep.  I mean fast!  Phlebotomists and pills and all sorts of things have come and gone and he’s still sleeping.

On a subjective level it seems as if he’s withdrawing — but how do you tell the difference between withdrawal and exhaustion.  Perhaps this extra sleep he’s been getting these last few days will make a turning point?  Or is his body just losing strength — there really is no way to tell and none of the professionals are doing anything other than just watching to see what happens.   He hasn’t even been awake enough to pray with. 

We’ll see what happens as the day goes on.

My Father-in-law Frank had open heart surgery on the 20th of February. What started out as a simple 2 bypass surgery got more complicated.

After a nearly 10 hour operation that I’ll get around to talking more about as time goes on he was a pretty sick fella. The surgeon’s opening statement in his post-op consult was: “I’ve had a rough day.” followed shortly afterwards by “this would have been a difficult operation for someone 55 yrs old to endure– much less Frank’s 85 yrs.”
That was more than 5 weeks ago. During that time I have been updating the family and friends on his condition from time to time. But at this point Peggy and I are changing gears. She’s going back to work in Milwaukee and I’m moving into Frank’s house here in OH to spend time with him, try to get him to do some exercises and see whether there is any hope of him ever getting back home again.

So, Frank, these pages are for you. For you and those who love you and want to know about your progress. Get better dad — we still need you around for a while.