Happy Frickin' Easter...
In the tradition of all public holidays sucking the life out of my soul, this one has been little, if no exception.
It started promisingly enough when I went shopping. That sadly died a quick death because I couldn't find a damn thing to buy. Sure, I could've bought a few dvds but decided I should get through the small mountain I have at home. Incidentally, Northern Exposure is great and I must get season 2.
But I digress...
Got home from shopping and was delighted to find Stu there. He was sprawlled on the couch, footy on and cold pepsi at hand...just make yourself at home honey. By this time I was thinking that somewhere, somehow the Gods had seen the light and decided not to give me a miserable, shithouse Easter Weekend.
Oh how wrong I was...
Around 8pm Mum appeared and asked if Stu could take Dad to hospital. The old coot has been re-tiling the kitchen lately and over the last few days his leg had swollen up to the point he couldn't walk. At this point Mum had called a doctor and the doctor orderd Dad to hospital. Huzzah!
So we struggled into Stu's car and headed to the hospital. I hate hospitals, I really, really hate hospitals. The first memory I have of hospitals was visiting Uncle Bob when I was a kid. He died the next day. I kinda think hospitals kill people now which really is a horrible mindset.
Anyway, I dashed inside and collected a wheelchair and then we piled into the waiting room. Thankfully it was empty aside from the guy who'd been vomiting blood ("yeah I've had this constant migraine but y'know I've had about 12 drinks today") and the guy who got scissored by his wife ("we were passing stuff across the table..cough..ahem...") There was also the really quite spunky police guy who'd...I'd don't know...broken a nail or something. Thankfully, Dad was quickly assesed and made to lie on a bed before we were led through into a cubicle.
The cubible was small with one chair. Stu prompty took the one chair and we began our wait. Hospitals just aren't like Scrubs are they? The doctor we saw was a very camp Asian guy who was stunned by my Dad's beautiful Queen's english, he giggled at the size my Dad's leg had swollen to and then had a tantrum over a tape measure. Then he told us all about DVT, blood clots and the worst case scenario of Dad carking it.
Doctor: What's that scar from?
Dad: I had a blind loop in my intestine.
Doctor: Yes but what's it from?
Dad: Uh they removed it...
Between the doctor appearing there were about a billion nurses who all asked the same questions ad nauseam.
Nurse: Ok just have to write an items list....dentures?
Dad: Nope, my own teeth.
Nurse: False teeth?
Dad: No, they'ree my real teeth.
Nurse: {disbelief) well done.
Its interesting the topics you end up chatting about when you're stuck in one very boring place for 4 hours or so. They ranged from all the ways Dad's injured himself. To all the ways Stu could get groped by a nurse. There's was Stu's whinging about painting/hot chocolate/why did that kid get an ice block and I didn't? We chatted about what would happen if we played with all the buttons on Dad's bed. Stu tried to push me through the curtain. Dad's array of bad jokes circa 1950 and when Dad got wheeled off to Xray a few dares.
Stu: I'll give you $20 if you stick your hand in the sharpes container.
Me: NO!
Me: I'll do 20 laps of the cubicle if you do 20 push ups.
Stu: Ok you're on.
Me:...
Stu:...
Me: Can't be fucked.
While Dad was in Xray the doctor minced back in and said that he didn't know when he could get the scan because of the public holiday and so he was going to admit him. So when Dad returned I told him and then we headed off. Well, we headed off straight into a darkened ward and came out giggling. A nurse quickly pointed us in the right direction, Stu got his hot chocolate and all was fine.
On arriving home to my distressed mother...
Stu: They had to amputate!
Me: SHUT UP!
Sill I owe him a big one for driving us to the hospital, staying as long as a wanted, letting me use him as a leaning post/seat and keeping me sane. There's a reason I love that man.
After a restless night and an uncomfortable day Dad arrived home. Thankfully they no longer think he has DVT and instead its more likely a muscle strain with possible haematoma. Its going to take weeks for the swelling to go down but he should recover and be able to finish the kitchen heh.
Oh well, I guess I get back to work and people ask, "So how was you Easter?" I'll have a small adventure for them.
It started promisingly enough when I went shopping. That sadly died a quick death because I couldn't find a damn thing to buy. Sure, I could've bought a few dvds but decided I should get through the small mountain I have at home. Incidentally, Northern Exposure is great and I must get season 2.
But I digress...
Got home from shopping and was delighted to find Stu there. He was sprawlled on the couch, footy on and cold pepsi at hand...just make yourself at home honey. By this time I was thinking that somewhere, somehow the Gods had seen the light and decided not to give me a miserable, shithouse Easter Weekend.
Oh how wrong I was...
Around 8pm Mum appeared and asked if Stu could take Dad to hospital. The old coot has been re-tiling the kitchen lately and over the last few days his leg had swollen up to the point he couldn't walk. At this point Mum had called a doctor and the doctor orderd Dad to hospital. Huzzah!
So we struggled into Stu's car and headed to the hospital. I hate hospitals, I really, really hate hospitals. The first memory I have of hospitals was visiting Uncle Bob when I was a kid. He died the next day. I kinda think hospitals kill people now which really is a horrible mindset.
Anyway, I dashed inside and collected a wheelchair and then we piled into the waiting room. Thankfully it was empty aside from the guy who'd been vomiting blood ("yeah I've had this constant migraine but y'know I've had about 12 drinks today") and the guy who got scissored by his wife ("we were passing stuff across the table..cough..ahem...") There was also the really quite spunky police guy who'd...I'd don't know...broken a nail or something. Thankfully, Dad was quickly assesed and made to lie on a bed before we were led through into a cubicle.
The cubible was small with one chair. Stu prompty took the one chair and we began our wait. Hospitals just aren't like Scrubs are they? The doctor we saw was a very camp Asian guy who was stunned by my Dad's beautiful Queen's english, he giggled at the size my Dad's leg had swollen to and then had a tantrum over a tape measure. Then he told us all about DVT, blood clots and the worst case scenario of Dad carking it.
Doctor: What's that scar from?
Dad: I had a blind loop in my intestine.
Doctor: Yes but what's it from?
Dad: Uh they removed it...
Between the doctor appearing there were about a billion nurses who all asked the same questions ad nauseam.
Nurse: Ok just have to write an items list....dentures?
Dad: Nope, my own teeth.
Nurse: False teeth?
Dad: No, they'ree my real teeth.
Nurse: {disbelief) well done.
Its interesting the topics you end up chatting about when you're stuck in one very boring place for 4 hours or so. They ranged from all the ways Dad's injured himself. To all the ways Stu could get groped by a nurse. There's was Stu's whinging about painting/hot chocolate/why did that kid get an ice block and I didn't? We chatted about what would happen if we played with all the buttons on Dad's bed. Stu tried to push me through the curtain. Dad's array of bad jokes circa 1950 and when Dad got wheeled off to Xray a few dares.
Stu: I'll give you $20 if you stick your hand in the sharpes container.
Me: NO!
Me: I'll do 20 laps of the cubicle if you do 20 push ups.
Stu: Ok you're on.
Me:...
Stu:...
Me: Can't be fucked.
While Dad was in Xray the doctor minced back in and said that he didn't know when he could get the scan because of the public holiday and so he was going to admit him. So when Dad returned I told him and then we headed off. Well, we headed off straight into a darkened ward and came out giggling. A nurse quickly pointed us in the right direction, Stu got his hot chocolate and all was fine.
On arriving home to my distressed mother...
Stu: They had to amputate!
Me: SHUT UP!
Sill I owe him a big one for driving us to the hospital, staying as long as a wanted, letting me use him as a leaning post/seat and keeping me sane. There's a reason I love that man.
After a restless night and an uncomfortable day Dad arrived home. Thankfully they no longer think he has DVT and instead its more likely a muscle strain with possible haematoma. Its going to take weeks for the swelling to go down but he should recover and be able to finish the kitchen heh.
Oh well, I guess I get back to work and people ask, "So how was you Easter?" I'll have a small adventure for them.