my father's keeper
Lately, the dude's been suffering from a pain on the right side of his torso. How do I know he's suffering? He went to see the doctor, who in turn sent him for a battery of tests: X-rays, bone density exams, blood tests. The usual annual check-up sampler plus diagnostics. Fun. Unfortunately, he's not terribly experienced in the ways of being sick or seeking medical attention, so I have to step in and explain it all. Doubly unfortunately, I'm not terribly experienced in the ways of dealing with dad's issues, especially when I can barely deal with my own. But we try.
Yesterday, he was all over making sure he didn't eat or drink after eight. He reminded me about this fact over the weekend. We even met downtown after my shift just so we could eat out and he could begin his fast on time. On the way home, he starts walking towards the corner store near the bus stop.
"Dude, you wanna pop?" He asked. "'Cause I'm gonna get one."
"Um, it's after eight," I reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," he said, looking at his watch. "Thanks."
Today, he woke up and began a food-and-drink-less appropriation of his morning rituals, which now pretty much just consisted of turning on TCM. Since he had the day off to take the tests, he didn't feel the urge to start getting ready to go out and get the fast over with. And then, he looked at the requisition and appointment forms he'd been issued. Turns out, he had an appointment at 9:00 AM. It was currently 8:57 AM. Fortunately, a quick call got the appointment rescheduled. And then, he went back to watching old movies.
Okay. Question time. First, if he was so focused on the battery of tests, why did he wait until this morning to look at all the sheets? Why didn't he look at them yesterday, just to make sure he knew where he was going? Second, if you're fasting, wouldn't you get the blood test over with as soon as possible, just so you could eat and drink something that wasn't water? Seriously.
Admittedly, there's a fair bit of hypocracy involved in my line of questioning. Why do I expect my dad to be on the ball with the medical stuff when I can't even get it right half the time? I mean, I once went to the wrong hospital for an ultrasound! (To be fair, though--I usually went to said hospital for ultrasounds scheduled by my GI Doc. It's the transplant-society-sanctioned ultrasounds that take place at the other hospital.) And I went to my doctor to get prescriptions written on Friday, which I promptly folded into fourths and slipped into my pocket. It's now Monday, and I have no idea where that piece of paper is. And I've been dealing with this stuff for most of my adult life!
What happens when I have to start taking more of an active role in my dad's health care, when I'm barely able to deal with my own? So much for my theory that between the two of us, you have one functioning adult.
Yesterday, he was all over making sure he didn't eat or drink after eight. He reminded me about this fact over the weekend. We even met downtown after my shift just so we could eat out and he could begin his fast on time. On the way home, he starts walking towards the corner store near the bus stop.
"Dude, you wanna pop?" He asked. "'Cause I'm gonna get one."
"Um, it's after eight," I reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," he said, looking at his watch. "Thanks."
Today, he woke up and began a food-and-drink-less appropriation of his morning rituals, which now pretty much just consisted of turning on TCM. Since he had the day off to take the tests, he didn't feel the urge to start getting ready to go out and get the fast over with. And then, he looked at the requisition and appointment forms he'd been issued. Turns out, he had an appointment at 9:00 AM. It was currently 8:57 AM. Fortunately, a quick call got the appointment rescheduled. And then, he went back to watching old movies.
Okay. Question time. First, if he was so focused on the battery of tests, why did he wait until this morning to look at all the sheets? Why didn't he look at them yesterday, just to make sure he knew where he was going? Second, if you're fasting, wouldn't you get the blood test over with as soon as possible, just so you could eat and drink something that wasn't water? Seriously.
Admittedly, there's a fair bit of hypocracy involved in my line of questioning. Why do I expect my dad to be on the ball with the medical stuff when I can't even get it right half the time? I mean, I once went to the wrong hospital for an ultrasound! (To be fair, though--I usually went to said hospital for ultrasounds scheduled by my GI Doc. It's the transplant-society-sanctioned ultrasounds that take place at the other hospital.) And I went to my doctor to get prescriptions written on Friday, which I promptly folded into fourths and slipped into my pocket. It's now Monday, and I have no idea where that piece of paper is. And I've been dealing with this stuff for most of my adult life!
What happens when I have to start taking more of an active role in my dad's health care, when I'm barely able to deal with my own? So much for my theory that between the two of us, you have one functioning adult.