We had a simple mac and cheese dinner with Anna and Michal the night Dad arrived, with wine of course. BTW, he wore the Depends things, but they're a nuisance because there's no fly. I told him now he knows what it's like to be a girl and then I cut a front slit in one pair. But he really had no problems like that while he was here.
Glen and I went to pick him up the next morning for the drive to Boulder and Dad was not in good shape. He said he had woken up "with the worst headache I've ever had in my life" and realized his whole body and every joint hurt. He didn't do anything but tried to sleep. Hours passed and the next thing he knew he woke up and realized he didn't hurt anymore. But it must have been quite severe—he said at one point he thought he was going to have to cancel the trip. We figure it was altitude sickness, which is highly unpredictable. But given the recent bout of pneumonia and the 3,000 or so extra feet, it makes sense.
The drive down was longer than usual—I had arranged to visit a crazy cheesemaker in Cainesville. Dad came in and met Randy and tasted the tomme and enjoyed it. But he was exhausted by the time he got to Boulder and then we had a little crisis because there were two beds in the bedroom and apparently no sofa bed in the living room. Dad did NOT want to share a room and insisted on sleeping on the sofa which I was not going to let happen.
We shelved it, took a toes up, then went to dinner at Hell's Backbone, where Blake treated Daddy like the amazing treasure he is. He was very happy, but tired, and drank no wine. Back at the suite, I won the bed battle and I slept on the sofa with Glen on the floor until I realized after a few hours that it was a sofa bed after all. Not sure where the original assessment came from.
So a good night's sleep, a leisurely breakfast with Jen, a nap and a good drive around Boulder and the monument. Dad continued to feel dizzy and unsteady on his feet, so we didn't get out of the car much.
Dinner with Blake again—Glen and I declared it close enough to celebrate our anniversary, so we drank sparkling. Daddy didn't sleep well again—probably the combined effect of altitude and alcohol.
Easy drive to SLC, and home in time for a good rest before dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant and a fun evening watching Phantom of the Opera with Lon Chaney at the Edison, which has a Mighty Wurlitzer and an amazing organ player who accompanies the films. Right down Dad's alley.
Tuesday we drove up to a saloon in Huntsville for lunch—seems like everything meant driving up another few thousand feet. Another nap, then soup and sandwich at home with the World Series and Sam who had just returned from Boston.
And so it went—a drive out to Golden Spike the next day, which fortunately had a wheelchair available, then a nap, then a Bacchanalian dinner at The Paris, whose owner is generally acknowledged to be the biggest a-hole in SLC but he ADORES Dad—served a 7 course dinner with significant wines and comped the whole thing. (Eric had to take a break to talk to his lawyer about some assault charges.) He's been waiting since last year to have Daddy back—messaged me and Anna earlier this month to make sure he was coming. Amazing gesture, but too much food and wine for all of us. Whatcha gonna do??
Our last day, we went up to Deer Valley for lunch—highest altitude yet. Dad was panting hard and slightly panicked when we got there, but partly because he needed to pee and there wasn't a restroom close enough. After that crisis, he settled down to enjoy his bloody mary, topped with wasabi foam in a black sea salt-rimmed glass.
So. The visit was wonderful. Everyone here loves Daddy so much. We're so lucky.
But this will probably be his last visit up here. Dad's balance is so shaky and the lack of oxygen was really hard on him—I would have rented a wheelchair and asked Dr. Wiggins for an oxygen prescription if I had had any idea. I think John Rector used to get oxygen when he went to Vail, right?
Anyway, see you all at Thanksgiving.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
News from the other side
Thursday night Chamberlains had gulf oysters for $9 per dozen.
Will was out of town and I went with Dad.
He ate 2 dozen oysters.
Technically he shouldn't be eating oysters
Impaired immunity and oysters are not the best combination.
But who am I to take away pleasure at this stage?
On Friday, we went to Sevy's. He feels guilty that he relies on me and wanted to take me to dinner to say thanks. I let him.
Today he had an appointment with Dr Secor's P.A., Ashley. Dr. Secor came in at the end of the appointment.
Dad has a tendency to downplay his symptoms when talking to the doctors. I speak up but he minimizes what I say. I'm not sure he remembers everything either.
The doctors say that there are 2 possible reasons for the diarrhea.
The first is that they don't know. Its kinda like the Parkinson's: if you respond to the medicine, you must have the disease. Imodium and pro-biotic taken every day. Dad says it tightens the stools and he has time to get to the bathroom. They added Pepto-Bismol to the mix
Second, it could be microscopic colitis. The only way to find out is to go in and do a biopsy in his colon. Because of the warfarin they don't feel comfortable cutting him at all. They are concerned about the bleeding.
Dad is concerned about the flight to SLC.
I suggested Depends, at least on the plane.
That didn't go over too well but I think that he is considering it.
Also, he has been feeling too dizzy to drive comfortably. When he feels that way, he calls for a ride or he doesn't go.
That's a good thing but then he doesn't go to work out, or the Parkinson's class, or his balance class.
Maybe we can get him comfortable with Uber.
Will was out of town and I went with Dad.
He ate 2 dozen oysters.
Technically he shouldn't be eating oysters
Impaired immunity and oysters are not the best combination.
But who am I to take away pleasure at this stage?
On Friday, we went to Sevy's. He feels guilty that he relies on me and wanted to take me to dinner to say thanks. I let him.
Today he had an appointment with Dr Secor's P.A., Ashley. Dr. Secor came in at the end of the appointment.
Dad has a tendency to downplay his symptoms when talking to the doctors. I speak up but he minimizes what I say. I'm not sure he remembers everything either.
The doctors say that there are 2 possible reasons for the diarrhea.
The first is that they don't know. Its kinda like the Parkinson's: if you respond to the medicine, you must have the disease. Imodium and pro-biotic taken every day. Dad says it tightens the stools and he has time to get to the bathroom. They added Pepto-Bismol to the mix
Second, it could be microscopic colitis. The only way to find out is to go in and do a biopsy in his colon. Because of the warfarin they don't feel comfortable cutting him at all. They are concerned about the bleeding.
Dad is concerned about the flight to SLC.
I suggested Depends, at least on the plane.
That didn't go over too well but I think that he is considering it.
Also, he has been feeling too dizzy to drive comfortably. When he feels that way, he calls for a ride or he doesn't go.
That's a good thing but then he doesn't go to work out, or the Parkinson's class, or his balance class.
Maybe we can get him comfortable with Uber.
News from the other side
Thursday night Chamberlains had gulf oysters for $9 per dozen.
Will was out of town and I went with Dad.
He ate 2 dozen oysters.
Technically he shouldn't be eating oysters
Impaired immunity and oysters are not the best combination.
But who am I to take away pleasure at this stage?
On Friday, we went to Sevy's. He feels guilty that he relies on me and wanted to take me to dinner to say thanks. I let him.
Today he had an appointment with Dr Secor's P.A., Ashley. Dr. Secor came in at the end of the appointment.
Dad has a tendency to downplay his symptoms when talking to the doctors. I speak up but he minimizes what I say. I'm not sure he remembers everything either.
The doctors say that there are 2 possible reasons for the diarrhea.
The first is that they don't know. Its kinda like the Parkinson's: if you respond to the medicine, you must have the disease. Imodium and pro-biotic taken every day. Dad says it tightens the stools and he has time to get to the bathroom. They added Pepto-Bismol to the mix
Second, it could be microscopic colitis. The only way to find out is to go in and do a biopsy in his colon. Because of the warfarin they don't feel comfortable cutting him at all. They are concerned about the bleeding.
Dad is concerned about the flight to SLC.
I suggested Depends, at least on the plane.
That didn't go over too well but I think that he is considering it.
Also, he has been feeling too dizzy to drive comfortably. When he feels that way, he calls for a ride or he doesn't go.
That's a good thing but then he doesn't go to work out, or the Parkinson's class, or his balance class.
Maybe we can get him comfortable with Uber.
Will was out of town and I went with Dad.
He ate 2 dozen oysters.
Technically he shouldn't be eating oysters
Impaired immunity and oysters are not the best combination.
But who am I to take away pleasure at this stage?
On Friday, we went to Sevy's. He feels guilty that he relies on me and wanted to take me to dinner to say thanks. I let him.
Today he had an appointment with Dr Secor's P.A., Ashley. Dr. Secor came in at the end of the appointment.
Dad has a tendency to downplay his symptoms when talking to the doctors. I speak up but he minimizes what I say. I'm not sure he remembers everything either.
The doctors say that there are 2 possible reasons for the diarrhea.
The first is that they don't know. Its kinda like the Parkinson's: if you respond to the medicine, you must have the disease. Imodium and pro-biotic taken every day. Dad says it tightens the stools and he has time to get to the bathroom. They added Pepto-Bismol to the mix
Second, it could be microscopic colitis. The only way to find out is to go in and do a biopsy in his colon. Because of the warfarin they don't feel comfortable cutting him at all. They are concerned about the bleeding.
Dad is concerned about the flight to SLC.
I suggested Depends, at least on the plane.
That didn't go over too well but I think that he is considering it.
Also, he has been feeling too dizzy to drive comfortably. When he feels that way, he calls for a ride or he doesn't go.
That's a good thing but then he doesn't go to work out, or the Parkinson's class, or his balance class.
Maybe we can get him comfortable with Uber.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Not Quite Back to Normal...
Evidently the pneumonia hit Dad harder than we thought.
Personally, I was worried that his raspy voice and throat would turn into full blown cold mode, but that doesn't seem to have happened. Yet.
He is weaker than before the pneumonia and you can hear it in his voice. He has pretty much not left the apartment since his discharge a week ago. He declined to go to the symphony tonight but was talking about driving out to Chamberlain's for their oyster special but I don't know whether or not he did. This is Thursday night as I write. btw Susan and I used his tickets and the concert was fabulous. Piano Concerto by Bartok was electric and the Brahms German Requiem was glorious. Sorry Dad couldn't go. James Diaz played the organ for the Brahms.
I went by the APT yesterday and spent an hour with him during my lunch break. Had a good visit and we watched an Arnold Palmer thing on the Golf Channel. Sorry he missed the memorial service for AP. He would have enjoyed it. I found him a few clips of the speakers online.
BUT, his big problem and his big concern are the explosive attacks of diarrhea that hit him with almost no warning resulting in ugly messes and extreme embarrassment. I suspect that was one reason he didn't want to go to the symphony or why he didn't go to church last Sunday. He does not disclose these attacks to me, I hear about them from Helen. When I asked yesterday he said he had been fine for a couple of days. I suspect he is taking more Imodium.
Evidently his appointment with Wiggins was fine. His chest was clear. He finally got an appointment with Dr Secor (gastroenterologist) for early next week. Obviously it would be great if someone could figure a way for him to gain better control. Especially before flying to Utah!
Helen, as always, this is my view of things and you are no doubt closer. I have sent you author invitations to the two emails I have on file for you.
Personally, I was worried that his raspy voice and throat would turn into full blown cold mode, but that doesn't seem to have happened. Yet.
He is weaker than before the pneumonia and you can hear it in his voice. He has pretty much not left the apartment since his discharge a week ago. He declined to go to the symphony tonight but was talking about driving out to Chamberlain's for their oyster special but I don't know whether or not he did. This is Thursday night as I write. btw Susan and I used his tickets and the concert was fabulous. Piano Concerto by Bartok was electric and the Brahms German Requiem was glorious. Sorry Dad couldn't go. James Diaz played the organ for the Brahms.
I went by the APT yesterday and spent an hour with him during my lunch break. Had a good visit and we watched an Arnold Palmer thing on the Golf Channel. Sorry he missed the memorial service for AP. He would have enjoyed it. I found him a few clips of the speakers online.
BUT, his big problem and his big concern are the explosive attacks of diarrhea that hit him with almost no warning resulting in ugly messes and extreme embarrassment. I suspect that was one reason he didn't want to go to the symphony or why he didn't go to church last Sunday. He does not disclose these attacks to me, I hear about them from Helen. When I asked yesterday he said he had been fine for a couple of days. I suspect he is taking more Imodium.
Evidently his appointment with Wiggins was fine. His chest was clear. He finally got an appointment with Dr Secor (gastroenterologist) for early next week. Obviously it would be great if someone could figure a way for him to gain better control. Especially before flying to Utah!
Helen, as always, this is my view of things and you are no doubt closer. I have sent you author invitations to the two emails I have on file for you.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Quickest Pneumonia Ever!
Well, that was quick!
I met Helen at the hospital this morning. Dad was sitting on the side of the bed waiting for his breakfast. He was in good spirits and seemed to be feeling fine.
Breakfast arrived, just as Dad had ordered. He was happy to have his smuggled salt. By the time he finished preparing everything just so, seasoning all his foods, buttering his biscuit, adding the jelly, no doubt it was getting cold, but he enjoyed. it.
And then it was time for Helen to go. She made of list of the things Dad needed to ask the Doctor when he arrived:
1. What is the prognosis?
2. Any more meds of antibiotics?
3. More x-rays?
4. Timeline?
The list seemed to cover all bases. Helen would be available after 3 in the afternoon. I was able to stay until 10, and Michael Malouf was planning to come by later in the morning.
Shortly after Helen left, the doctor came by. After exchanging pleasantries and a blow-by-blow recap of Dad's condition, he gave a quick listen to Dad's chest.
"There's only two things I need to do," he said. "The first is to write a prescription for levaquin. The other is to write discharge papers."
And that's what he did.
The prescription was for four pills to take daily starting in the afternoon. The hospital was to fill the prescription so he wouldn't have to have it filled after discharge. Since he had one more IV antibiotic infusion scheduled for later in the morning, the nurse was to prepare for a discharge around 3 or 4 when Helen would be available to pick him up.
Dad was to follow up with a visit to David Wiggins and an x-ray in a couple of weeks. If he develops severe shortness of breath, severe coughing or bloody phlegm, Dad is NOT to call his doctor, but head back to the ER.
By then it was time for me to go to work. As far as I know the rest of the day went according to the plan. Malouf did come by for a visit. Helen took him home and Will took him dinner.
And so life goes back to normal. We hope.
I met Helen at the hospital this morning. Dad was sitting on the side of the bed waiting for his breakfast. He was in good spirits and seemed to be feeling fine.
Breakfast arrived, just as Dad had ordered. He was happy to have his smuggled salt. By the time he finished preparing everything just so, seasoning all his foods, buttering his biscuit, adding the jelly, no doubt it was getting cold, but he enjoyed. it.
And then it was time for Helen to go. She made of list of the things Dad needed to ask the Doctor when he arrived:
1. What is the prognosis?
2. Any more meds of antibiotics?
3. More x-rays?
4. Timeline?
The list seemed to cover all bases. Helen would be available after 3 in the afternoon. I was able to stay until 10, and Michael Malouf was planning to come by later in the morning.
Shortly after Helen left, the doctor came by. After exchanging pleasantries and a blow-by-blow recap of Dad's condition, he gave a quick listen to Dad's chest.
"There's only two things I need to do," he said. "The first is to write a prescription for levaquin. The other is to write discharge papers."
And that's what he did.
The prescription was for four pills to take daily starting in the afternoon. The hospital was to fill the prescription so he wouldn't have to have it filled after discharge. Since he had one more IV antibiotic infusion scheduled for later in the morning, the nurse was to prepare for a discharge around 3 or 4 when Helen would be available to pick him up.
Dad was to follow up with a visit to David Wiggins and an x-ray in a couple of weeks. If he develops severe shortness of breath, severe coughing or bloody phlegm, Dad is NOT to call his doctor, but head back to the ER.
By then it was time for me to go to work. As far as I know the rest of the day went according to the plan. Malouf did come by for a visit. Helen took him home and Will took him dinner.
And so life goes back to normal. We hope.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
A Year Later.....But Now This!
Hard to believe it's been a year since the last post. Been pretty smooth sailing for the D-Don. Life's about the same.
He may be a little slower afoot. A lot less likely to complain about being driven. But all in all, Dad's had a pretty stable year.
Another year, another flower for Polly.
Until today.
He had a good weekend. Seemed in good health and good spirits Sunday at church and when he went out to lunch with Susan, Travis and myself. He had his usual Monday dinner with his female admirers at Sevy's.
And then about 2 am Tuesday morning he woke up with a violent, racking cough, but was able to get back to sleep. He woke up with another violent, racking cough around 5 am and this time he looked at the phlegm and saw that it was tinged with blood. And he did the prudent thing.
Since it was too early to call Dr. Wiggins or Dr. Musselman, he got up, got dressed and drove himself to the emergency room at Presby where he was promptly admitted and examined. They thought his racking cough had broken a small blood vessel which would account for the bloody phlegm, but they also heard a rattle when he breathed. An x-ray followed which showed a cloudy patch at the bottom of one of his lungs and he was diagnosed with pneumonia.
Surprising, since he had shown no symptoms. No cold. No bronchitis. No sore throat. No fever. But, there it was.
They started him on an IV infusion of zithromax in his room in the ER and followed it up with another drug of which I can't remember the name. They also told him he would be admitted, probably just overnight if everything went well.
At some point in all this he called Helen who called in sick, went to the hospital and texted me the news. I was at the Transplant Clinic getting my quarterly checkup (numbers were great, by the way!) When I was done I headed straight for the hospital.
When I got there, he was just finishing his first infusion. His main concern was getting his daily dose of Immodium. Dad was apparently feeling fine other than being surprised that he was sick and dismayed to find himself on an uncomfortable hospital bed hooked up with IVs, blood pressure cuffs and monitor leads. Three things he really doesn't like: hospital beds, hospital food, and hospital waiting.
And wait we did.
But truthfully, his Hospitalist was a very good listener who spoke slowly and directly so Dad could understand (he never had a problem with her accent.) His nurse was terrific. He did a great job explaining the situation and why we had to wait. He said it would be a while, so he snagged Dad a turkey sandwich and Helen and I took his car back to the Apt and got him some PJs and things he needed to spend a night.
When we got back, he had eaten and was dozing. At which point I left Helen and went in to work. That was about 2 pm.
Sometime around 5 or 6 I received a text from Helen that he had finally gotten a room. And then another text that they still had not seen a doctor. And that was the last I heard.
Helen spent the entire day with Dad and no doubt has more to say, maybe even corrections to my version of the story, but I felt it was important to set down my memories of the day. Mary sent a text a couple of hours ago sounding anxious and confused. I attempted to reply via text, but my phone could not get a good enough cellular connection to send it. So I revived the blog.
I plan to be at the hospital in about six hours, so I'll stop now and go to bed. Will try to post again later on Wednesday.
Just to recap, Dad seemed to be in relatively good health. Kudos to him for recognizing the symptoms and getting to the hospital quickly. I know I would never had done that, and I doubt any of the rest of would either. We would just plow through and tough it out until we really got seriously sick. If anyone had any doubts as to Dad's awareness of himself and his condition at his advanced age, I think they can lay them to rest for a while.
He may be a little slower afoot. A lot less likely to complain about being driven. But all in all, Dad's had a pretty stable year.
Another year, another flower for Polly.
Until today.
He had a good weekend. Seemed in good health and good spirits Sunday at church and when he went out to lunch with Susan, Travis and myself. He had his usual Monday dinner with his female admirers at Sevy's.
And then about 2 am Tuesday morning he woke up with a violent, racking cough, but was able to get back to sleep. He woke up with another violent, racking cough around 5 am and this time he looked at the phlegm and saw that it was tinged with blood. And he did the prudent thing.
Since it was too early to call Dr. Wiggins or Dr. Musselman, he got up, got dressed and drove himself to the emergency room at Presby where he was promptly admitted and examined. They thought his racking cough had broken a small blood vessel which would account for the bloody phlegm, but they also heard a rattle when he breathed. An x-ray followed which showed a cloudy patch at the bottom of one of his lungs and he was diagnosed with pneumonia.
Surprising, since he had shown no symptoms. No cold. No bronchitis. No sore throat. No fever. But, there it was.
They started him on an IV infusion of zithromax in his room in the ER and followed it up with another drug of which I can't remember the name. They also told him he would be admitted, probably just overnight if everything went well.
At some point in all this he called Helen who called in sick, went to the hospital and texted me the news. I was at the Transplant Clinic getting my quarterly checkup (numbers were great, by the way!) When I was done I headed straight for the hospital.
When I got there, he was just finishing his first infusion. His main concern was getting his daily dose of Immodium. Dad was apparently feeling fine other than being surprised that he was sick and dismayed to find himself on an uncomfortable hospital bed hooked up with IVs, blood pressure cuffs and monitor leads. Three things he really doesn't like: hospital beds, hospital food, and hospital waiting.
And wait we did.
But truthfully, his Hospitalist was a very good listener who spoke slowly and directly so Dad could understand (he never had a problem with her accent.) His nurse was terrific. He did a great job explaining the situation and why we had to wait. He said it would be a while, so he snagged Dad a turkey sandwich and Helen and I took his car back to the Apt and got him some PJs and things he needed to spend a night.
When we got back, he had eaten and was dozing. At which point I left Helen and went in to work. That was about 2 pm.
Sometime around 5 or 6 I received a text from Helen that he had finally gotten a room. And then another text that they still had not seen a doctor. And that was the last I heard.
Helen spent the entire day with Dad and no doubt has more to say, maybe even corrections to my version of the story, but I felt it was important to set down my memories of the day. Mary sent a text a couple of hours ago sounding anxious and confused. I attempted to reply via text, but my phone could not get a good enough cellular connection to send it. So I revived the blog.
I plan to be at the hospital in about six hours, so I'll stop now and go to bed. Will try to post again later on Wednesday.
Just to recap, Dad seemed to be in relatively good health. Kudos to him for recognizing the symptoms and getting to the hospital quickly. I know I would never had done that, and I doubt any of the rest of would either. We would just plow through and tough it out until we really got seriously sick. If anyone had any doubts as to Dad's awareness of himself and his condition at his advanced age, I think they can lay them to rest for a while.
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