(no subject)
Okay, a guaranteed snark-free day from me. I gotta stop that stuff.
Dad's been back in the hospital since Friday with right-side pneumonia, and is fighting off the nurses who want to inject him with something that will keep his atrial fibrilation problems from producing blood clots. We thought he'd be okay for a couple of weeks but he managed to jump that.
I need to find a nursing home in Denver fairly quickly, then deal with all his money, his bills, find his will, move his stuff into storage. 'Cause he ain't goin' back. He's on his last legs.
All my gut feelings about this are based on the cat we've been giving IV injections to for three years. When we started, we were sure that the kitty was going to die of kidney failure after a couple of months of this, but three years later she's as hale and hearty as any twenty-one-year-old kitty can be. On some deep level I assume that dad will move to a nursing home and then lie there for five, or ten, or twenty years, not quite alive, or dead.
The cat is miles healthier than my dad, though. I doubt he's going to last very long.
He called me yesterday, even though he couldn't hear me, asking when the hell he was going to go back home to his assisted living place. After a minute I hung up, called the nurse, and asked her to give him a message. Email is his one true method of communication, but he's sinking past that, too.
I guess I'll go up there today and talk to the hospital's case manager about places to take him.
Bleah. The faster I do this the better - gotta get crackin'.
Dad's been back in the hospital since Friday with right-side pneumonia, and is fighting off the nurses who want to inject him with something that will keep his atrial fibrilation problems from producing blood clots. We thought he'd be okay for a couple of weeks but he managed to jump that.
I need to find a nursing home in Denver fairly quickly, then deal with all his money, his bills, find his will, move his stuff into storage. 'Cause he ain't goin' back. He's on his last legs.
All my gut feelings about this are based on the cat we've been giving IV injections to for three years. When we started, we were sure that the kitty was going to die of kidney failure after a couple of months of this, but three years later she's as hale and hearty as any twenty-one-year-old kitty can be. On some deep level I assume that dad will move to a nursing home and then lie there for five, or ten, or twenty years, not quite alive, or dead.
The cat is miles healthier than my dad, though. I doubt he's going to last very long.
He called me yesterday, even though he couldn't hear me, asking when the hell he was going to go back home to his assisted living place. After a minute I hung up, called the nurse, and asked her to give him a message. Email is his one true method of communication, but he's sinking past that, too.
I guess I'll go up there today and talk to the hospital's case manager about places to take him.
Bleah. The faster I do this the better - gotta get crackin'.