The phone range at 7:15 this morning; a call from the lead caregiver at Dad's adult family home with an update on Dad that didn't sound too good: fever, chills, tachycardia, and weakness. Wow, I thought; I just talked to him last night and saw him Sunday afternoon. Sure, he's frail and generally on the decline but I wasn't expecting him to get sick so fast. I know better; this fall of course happens all the time in elderly folks. Even though I know, there's denial. Always.
Long story short: I spent the day with Dad at the hospital; first in the Emergency Room and then upstairs in his hospital room. He's going to be O.K. My powers of discernment between "sick" and "really sick" are pretty good. By noon with a few bags of IV fluids and a dose of IV antibiotics, he looked much better. He hadn't wanted to come to the hospital in the first place but despite his stoicism, I think we were right to insist. Hopefully he'll be on the mend in a day or two and ready to head home again.
None of the things on my "to do" list, including the yoga class, blackberry picking, and checking up on the Arapahoe house, got done today. I did drive to his home to retrieve hearing aids, glasses, and partial dentures and bring them back to the hospital.I did sit by his side and offer comforting words and translations right up by his ear. By 4 PM, he acknowledged that I'd been there all day by saying "Wow, Kitty Kat, you should get on home." I took his advice.
Everyone who interacted with Dad today ended up with a smile or a chuckle. He's such a likeable person. The stuff he says, the expressions on his face, his absolute outward acceptance of all that's going on is only part of the charm. He's seemingly unaware of how delighted people are to meet him. He never complains, is polite, and goes with the flow; "the perfect patient". All the attention seems to perk him up; somewhat of a bonus if he's got to be ill and in the hospital, I suppose.
We'll see how he's doing tomorrow. I think he'll be better and perhaps ready to come home.