Dad Sunday
I had a couple of potential social engagements today, including a highly-anticipated work Christmas function. It's quite a few years since I've worked with these people but we've kept in touch and it all still feels like a tiny corporate family. I was really keen to find out where the people and technology had gone lately, and how people's boats, dogs, choirs and renovations were coming along.
I've been hitting the next-level-up painkillers for the last couple of days, but by the time the deadline rolled around for lunch today I knew I didn't have enough spoons to go, enjoy, and return in one piece. Part of the frustration was that I was confident that I could get there (a longish drive to near Fremantle), that I would have a great time, but that during the drive home I would be screaming in agony, and risk a worse flare.
Poo :-(
After lunch though I decided I could make the round trip to the folks place where I could spend time with Dad, or if he was too tired, with Mum. In my experience the best visiting conditions with a sick one consist of a one-to-one ratio of patients to visitors. It's a question of pitching one's voice for maximum comprehension and minimal irritation. Illness makes it difficult to follow multiple conversational threads, and as soon as the visitors outnumber the patient they have a tendency to speak over the patient's head (or feet).
I prefer to offer quiet and serenity, with little private jokes pitched at a situation-appropriate level of hilarity. And of course, if I'm doing my hair combing and scalp massage properly, our patient is incapable of further conversation. That's the way I like them: relaxed, smiling slightly, possibly drooling a little. I've had no complaints.
I've clearly had too much time to think about this, but I'd be a fool not to use hard-earned lessons acquired only a few years ago. The parallels are inescapable; the results inevitable.
All said, it was a good visit. No one combs eyebrows like me, Dad says. He's quite right, I think that was Daddy's Girl privilege and no-one else got the chance, apart from over-eager barbers. I hope to practice my specialist arts a lot in the near future.
There's a hospital bed coming soon which should make a big difference, as his biggest challenge is moving from the lying to the sitting position. One day at a time.
I've been hitting the next-level-up painkillers for the last couple of days, but by the time the deadline rolled around for lunch today I knew I didn't have enough spoons to go, enjoy, and return in one piece. Part of the frustration was that I was confident that I could get there (a longish drive to near Fremantle), that I would have a great time, but that during the drive home I would be screaming in agony, and risk a worse flare.
Poo :-(
After lunch though I decided I could make the round trip to the folks place where I could spend time with Dad, or if he was too tired, with Mum. In my experience the best visiting conditions with a sick one consist of a one-to-one ratio of patients to visitors. It's a question of pitching one's voice for maximum comprehension and minimal irritation. Illness makes it difficult to follow multiple conversational threads, and as soon as the visitors outnumber the patient they have a tendency to speak over the patient's head (or feet).
I prefer to offer quiet and serenity, with little private jokes pitched at a situation-appropriate level of hilarity. And of course, if I'm doing my hair combing and scalp massage properly, our patient is incapable of further conversation. That's the way I like them: relaxed, smiling slightly, possibly drooling a little. I've had no complaints.
I've clearly had too much time to think about this, but I'd be a fool not to use hard-earned lessons acquired only a few years ago. The parallels are inescapable; the results inevitable.
All said, it was a good visit. No one combs eyebrows like me, Dad says. He's quite right, I think that was Daddy's Girl privilege and no-one else got the chance, apart from over-eager barbers. I hope to practice my specialist arts a lot in the near future.
There's a hospital bed coming soon which should make a big difference, as his biggest challenge is moving from the lying to the sitting position. One day at a time.