Apparently my father couldn’t handle all the attention I was getting from my totally awesome blog. To steal the spotlight back he decided to take an ambulance ride straight to ICU. Boys are so dramatic! At least the old dog did learn a new trick and called 911 instead of driving himself (or blowing it off until Monday and doing an “oh by the way” at his regular doctor. Word of advice DOCTORS HATE THAT!!!) I got a random text saying “enroute to the hospital crazy high bp” Thanks, that totally gives me an idea what’s going on without scaring me. I guess I’ll just go start the car and let the boy know he is in charge. Who wants to sleep at night anyways?
I swing by his house just in case he hadn’t left there yet. Found a dark house and gurney tracks in the snow but I knew a block away he wasn’t there since I couldn’t hear his TV at full blast.
Little insight on my dad. He is 5’7” and more wrinkled than a Sharpei. He has one leg, one kidney, 4 teeth, 9 fingers, can see out of one eye, has a huge scar from being electrocuted, lungs are totally destroyed from 55 years of smoking and construction work, and his hearing has been shot since Vietnam. We call him Lucky. You can call him Mr. Stanley. He still goes hunting and fishing and has a great sense of humor!
I make my way to hospital and scan the parking lot for “Woodpile” stickers before heading in. (that’s a long story we will go into later) when I go to the check in desk I told them I was looking for my oldest child. “Mr. Stanley?” Wow, I thought I was joking but this seems fairly accurate now. He even put me as his power of attorney, will wonders never cease. When they take me back it was pretty close to what I expected; lots of people, loud machines and a really long night. Around 2 am I finally tapped out for a little bit so I could catch a quick nap before work the next morning. (of course my needy puppy had a panic attack about me not being in bed by 9 so had chewed up everything he could reach all over the living room, but how can you be mad at that cute face?!)
The next morning I wake my son up stupid early and tell him the whole truth. The half-truth the night before was he was doing good and they were just keeping him overnight to watch him. The part about ICU on a ventilator may have gotten left out….. I was tired, my bad. It did get a teenager moving rather quickly.
The nurses at the desk direct us around the corner and first door in the left. Right outside of his room is a bed table with a “Stanley” tool box on it. I couldn’t help stopping and shouting in a bereaved voice “this is all that is left of him?!” I fell on the box in a quick hug but the nurses weren’t impressed. My son was choking on laughter. Fine, I’ll just go to his room. Some people just aren’t morning people. Apparently the county hospital ICU was running short on big people beds, because he got stuck in a peds room. (My husband that is 6’5” swears that they just when off his height)
I couldn’t focus on anything the boys were saying. I could not even keep a straight face. My giggling must have interrupted the conversation because he asked what was so funny.
“How do you pee in here!?”
“Since you went to college I’m sure you know the mechanics of it”
“But HOW?! There is no way I could drop my pants with Winnie the Pooh creeping on me!”
*He looks around the room and the dozen of disturbingly excited cartoon characters spying through circles on the walls*
“I had not even noticed those……now it is going to be rather uncomfortable going forward.”
“How could you not notice?! I swear piglet is staring straight up your Velcro shorts like he is permanently scarred.”
“He probably is. I bet it’s the biggest one he has ever seen!”
“Someone should have put more thought into bed placement versus sticker placement. This cannot be unseen.”
“As the usual, the conversations aren’t always intelligent but they are very rarely dull”
When they got him moved to a regular room later that afternoon, the first thing I had to check for was creepy cartoon characters. When the nurse asked if he needed anything I blurted out “Can you let Piglet know we really miss him but it just wasn’t working out?” They say laughter is the best medicine (unless you have diarrhea) so I will assume the burst of laughter from my dad was just what he needed. Even if it did put him into a coughing fit. Pfft! That just clears his lungs and forces more concentrated o2 in them. It even gave me something to giggle about when I was very rude to the fabulous hospitalist that hadn’t even read his chart before lecturing. Again, Boys!
I have spent the last few days thinking about every single Disney charter and how none of them would have been any better staring up an old man’s shorts.
Dory and Nemo? Big eyes and a whale of a tale
Alice in Wonderland? Startled girl and a creepy cat. Nope.
Shrek and Donkey?
I see no way of making this better.