My day - such as it was

So what did *I* do interesting today?

Hmm. Well.

I got into a shouting match with the bloke who was supposed to be fixing my furnace (yes, it never rains but it pours - The heater in our house started blowing cold air about noon yesterday. I came down at 2:30 am this morning and it was 50 degrees in the parlour. I set up a little electric heater in the Nursery where the two youngest children are then couldn't go back to sleep because I was so paranoid it would burn the house down.)

I got stopped by the police (highway patrol, deputy sheriff, junior woodchuck - whatever he was he was very polite). He said I was 'driving erratically'. I told him that I was a bit short on sleep but that I always drove erratically and he had the good grace to laugh. He didn't ticket me. Of course he was slick and clean and looked young enough to be my child. I think he just felt sorry for me.

Because of all this I burst in the door of the ICU at the arse-end of the 11 - 11:30 visiting time and they were nice enough to let me see Dad.

It was v. v. difficult.

They were getting ready to reinsert his chest IV - just below his left clavicle - because it had clotted closed. I reassured the two doctors that the procedure wouldn't bother me.

Indeed, blood, bruises, and stiches, even on my own father, don't bug me. What disturbed me was his demeanour.

They had had to back off the morphine to do this (the morphine is delivered through this IV) and Dad was in tremendous pain. He moved restlessly, clenched his fists, swallowed convulsively around the breathing and feeding tubes, rolled his head about on the pillow (as much as the neck brace would allow). It was horrible. He was very pale and drenched in sweat. I spoke to him, and he would turn his head toward me but I don't think he knew who I was.

It should be that the worst part to watch is the beginning, right after the accident, but I'm finding this much much harder to take. Much worse.

The anesthesiologist who rang me had evaluated Dad this morning for the epidural and decided that he was NOT a candidate right now. They will take another look at him in 2 or 3 days.

So I held Dad's hand while we waited for the x-ray film to come back to make sure that the IV was in the right place. The nurse actually had the morphine in her pocket, poised and ready for the go-ahead. As soon as they cleared him and she gave it to him he sank back into his regular state of the past 7 days: peaceful, but only minimally responsive.

So we're back to square one.

I asked the doctor when they would try a breathing test again and contemplate trying to remove the respirator again and he said 'about a week'. In the meantime he stays on the morphine. Keep your fingers crossed that Tuesday the anesthesiologist thinks that Dad is ready for the epi.

I have the whole lovely ordeal of the trip to the courthouse for the guardianship to tell but I'm about to fall asleep. I'll blog ya tomorrow.

(update: the guy fixed the furnace. Yay! I guess crabby, sleepy women are a great inspiration.)