The news is good ...
Sunday, February 16th, 2003 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamaranth... maybe all your good wishes (which meant a lot to me) had a real-world effect. My father's much better and the wedding went smoothly.
I went to the hospital Friday night to see my father: he was in a lot of pain, incoherent, trying to refuse treatment ... horrible to see. [I should mention that he'd been in hospital less than 10 days before for a suspected kidney infection: they'd pumped him full of antibiotics, done some tests and sent him home].
We'd already decided that it couldn't be allowed to overshadow niece's wedding day: so brave faces were put on all round. [Will post a couple of photos some time - me in a skirt. A light-coloured skirt. Also the bride. And my family. And the glorious sunshine and the flowers.]
The ceremony went smoothly. Sarah & Ian had been on local TV on the Friday night, having planned their wedding in just 4 days - and apparently when that was broadcast the final decision hadn't yet been made as to whether the wedding could go ahead! Luckily no one told us this. And eventually the Registrar General came through and decided that the circumstances were extenuating enough to waive the usual 15-day limit.
I snuck out of the reception and bribed other niece to take me up to the hospital. My father was much better - lying peacefully, oxygen mask in place (he'd fought to get it off him on Friday), even trying to speak though not comprehensible. I don't know if he knew who I was but he knew I was there. We couldn't really talk, what with mask and incoherence, but I told him all the news.
Back to the reception, where the symptoms of my relief included dancing with my nephew's three-year-old daughter; discussing Niece #2's much-awaited conversion to Islam with her mother-in-law-to-be; evading cameras; eating and drinking and gossipping. By the end of the evening I felt a warm glow of familial affection.
When I went to the hospital today, he wasn't awake, and wouldn't really wake up when I spoke to him. Still on the oxygen and the antibiotics - but apparently they are having an effect now - and the nurse assured me that he'd been lively earlier in the morning. So I felt safe in coming back to London.
I don't know how long this cycle of crisis and effective treatment can continue. It's exhausting for him and for us. I expect another call telling me that I need to go back - could be any time in the next week, or in the next two years. (It's almost two years since the first of those calls, when he had a stroke and was in a coma for weeks).
Doesn't help that he's currently nil-by-mouth, so isn't getting his Parkinson's medication: but I spoke to them about that, and they'll be reviewing his drip-feed treatments tomorrow.
I still hate the smell of hospitals.
Meanwhile, would seem to have survived my Romantic Period (approx 16-36) relatively unscathed. My Valentine tally (-1*) amuses, rather than distresses, me.
*the anti-Valentine is where you see a red envelope in your mailbox, but realise just as you're about to rip it open that it has been wrongly delivered and should go into next door's postbox. And it was already late ... bwa ha ha ha ha
I went to the hospital Friday night to see my father: he was in a lot of pain, incoherent, trying to refuse treatment ... horrible to see. [I should mention that he'd been in hospital less than 10 days before for a suspected kidney infection: they'd pumped him full of antibiotics, done some tests and sent him home].
We'd already decided that it couldn't be allowed to overshadow niece's wedding day: so brave faces were put on all round. [Will post a couple of photos some time - me in a skirt. A light-coloured skirt. Also the bride. And my family. And the glorious sunshine and the flowers.]
The ceremony went smoothly. Sarah & Ian had been on local TV on the Friday night, having planned their wedding in just 4 days - and apparently when that was broadcast the final decision hadn't yet been made as to whether the wedding could go ahead! Luckily no one told us this. And eventually the Registrar General came through and decided that the circumstances were extenuating enough to waive the usual 15-day limit.
I snuck out of the reception and bribed other niece to take me up to the hospital. My father was much better - lying peacefully, oxygen mask in place (he'd fought to get it off him on Friday), even trying to speak though not comprehensible. I don't know if he knew who I was but he knew I was there. We couldn't really talk, what with mask and incoherence, but I told him all the news.
Back to the reception, where the symptoms of my relief included dancing with my nephew's three-year-old daughter; discussing Niece #2's much-awaited conversion to Islam with her mother-in-law-to-be; evading cameras; eating and drinking and gossipping. By the end of the evening I felt a warm glow of familial affection.
When I went to the hospital today, he wasn't awake, and wouldn't really wake up when I spoke to him. Still on the oxygen and the antibiotics - but apparently they are having an effect now - and the nurse assured me that he'd been lively earlier in the morning. So I felt safe in coming back to London.
I don't know how long this cycle of crisis and effective treatment can continue. It's exhausting for him and for us. I expect another call telling me that I need to go back - could be any time in the next week, or in the next two years. (It's almost two years since the first of those calls, when he had a stroke and was in a coma for weeks).
Doesn't help that he's currently nil-by-mouth, so isn't getting his Parkinson's medication: but I spoke to them about that, and they'll be reviewing his drip-feed treatments tomorrow.
I still hate the smell of hospitals.
Meanwhile, would seem to have survived my Romantic Period (approx 16-36) relatively unscathed. My Valentine tally (-1*) amuses, rather than distresses, me.
*the anti-Valentine is where you see a red envelope in your mailbox, but realise just as you're about to rip it open that it has been wrongly delivered and should go into next door's postbox. And it was already late ... bwa ha ha ha ha
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Date: Sunday, February 16th, 2003 03:00 pm (UTC)And I have a Valentine for you. Just haven't managed to MAIL the damn thing. Also have other stuff to send you -- am holding it all for one big transatlantic package!
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Date: Sunday, February 16th, 2003 03:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Sunday, February 16th, 2003 03:28 pm (UTC)And yay! for good news. :)
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Date: Monday, February 17th, 2003 03:10 am (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: Monday, February 17th, 2003 09:31 am (UTC)