The last couple of hospital visits for my dad were on the scary side. They happened a year apart, nearly to the day. Last year when my mom went in to check on him in the morning, he told her that he had never felt as close to death as he did right then. Later, when the aide came to take him out of bed, she couldn't revive him. It wasn't until the EMS guys were transferring him onto the gurney that he finally woke up and wondered what was going on. He went to the hospital then and was kept in there for about a week for observation. They gave a diagnosis of a UTI.
He becomes a little delusional when he is in the hospital - that's been happening for the last few years whenever he goes. He'll see bugs on the walls, ladies on the edge of a hole about to fall in, people that aren't there. We're told this happens to older people when they are not in their element.
So, on to this hospital visit. I've pretty much went into the details of the visit in my last post and how he was behaving initially when he first came home.
I think we've learned from this last hospital visit that it takes about a week for him to return to "normal" once he comes home. Oh man, those first days home are so sad and scary. He was trying so hard to get himself out of bed because "he needs to go somewhere", he was going to hurt himself. He was talking so fast that all the words were all jumbled together. It was sort of a nervous speaking pattern. During these times of uncertainty, I am so prone (in my brain) to get the hell out of there. I don't want to see him like that and I don't want to lie to him when he is asking me (for instance) for his cane so he can "go walk somewhere"...what do you say? I tried the truth, but he looked at me like I was crazy. So, I told him that I was going to ask mom where it was. However, he could clearly see it in the corner of his room (it was not there) and wanted me to "just go get it for him". I pretended not to hear him and I walked out of his room...and nearly ran out of the house.
In these situations, it's good that he really can't walk...otherwise where would we find him?
Anyway, onwards to this week and a more uplifting outlook. He's all back! He's got good hand/eye coordination (as much as he had prior to the hospital) and he's painting again. Mom feels comfortable enough to leave him alone again for short periods...which is really good because otherwise she would be slipping into a depression.
Getting old really stinks from what I can tell. Maybe not so bad for those that still have their health, but for those that are compromised...niet zo goed.