Runaround

I can recall complaining about feeling like I was spinning my wheels in regards to life awhile back. Now it feels like I’m having to run around more than I can handle. Today was a good example of why. But I really need to go back to the events of the last couple of days in order to explain why.

The lead up to my father’s surgery to get a feeding tube implanted in his lower abdomen made for an interesting enough week after the hectic visit by family during the previous week. Exhausted by that, we both were trying to recover strength for the ordeal on Thursday. Of course, things are never that easy around here.

A sale on shorts at a local discount store prompted Dad to tag along on my trip to get a haircut, one long overdue. Refusing to come in due to his appearance, he waited in the car while I was shorn and then off to shop we went. I rifled through the used DVDs and bargain BDs while he looked for shorts. Of course, he found the most expensive ones in the store and discovered these particular ones were not on sale at the checkout, so no shorts were purchased.

Early to bed was mandatory rather than just advised once home thanks to an early morning surgery. Complicating the issue was him not being allowed to feed that night. At three AM, my alarm went off and I ignored it for a couple of snoozes before arising for the day. We had to be at Gundersen at 5:30 in the morning for festivities to begin. Darkness, fog, and unexpected road work along the way failed to stop us from arriving on time.

So started the very long day.

Surgery actually began around a quarter to eight and went smoothly according to the surgeon. No surprises or complications meant Dad should be able to go home quickly. That did not happen, as the anesthesia  walloped him hard (as previously seen during procedures) and the pain from the surgery was far more than he expected.

After a lot of hemming, hawing, and extra pain killers, I drove him home and he became relatively comfortable. That is, until I hooked him up to the feeding pump through the still being used nasal tube. Barely a milliliter in and he was complaining of unbearable pain so we stopped. So two days of feeding missed has weakened him considerably on top of the trauma of being cut open.

Today began with Dad still being sore after the first flushing of the new tube and talking to the nurses by telephone about the situation. A decision to try feeding again was made to see if he could handle it or if he’d have to be seen. It sounded like a plan.

Then my phone rang. On the other end was one of our neighbors with a checkered past. He was suffering due to heart problems and hoping we were headed to the hospital today so he could tag along. Hearing we had nothing definite scheduled, he decided to call around again for a ride. I told him to call back if he didn’t get anyone.

I knew he probably wouldn’t.

So I hooked my father up and monitored another feeding attempt. Fortunately, that went a lot better than the night before. Having heard nothing from the neighbor down the road, I drove down to see how he was doing. Once roused, he sounded worse than during the phone call and I asked him if he still wanted to go in.

And that’s how I ended up at the emergency room at Gundersen once again. After dropping him off, I parked and then checked to make sure he was taken back for examination. Once that was verified, I tried calling my Dad to check on him.

Busy signal. That wasn’t expected. I waited a few minutes and tried again. Still busy. I left a message at the desk to let the neighbor know I was heading home since he’s always held for observation when he gets this bad. Tried ringing Dad again.

Same result.

Driving back home, I did something I never like to do, which is use a cellphone while at the steering wheel. Always the busy signal which was very worrying to say the least. Of course there are no signals to be had after hitting a certain area, so I mushed home.

Got in the door and to the living room, where Dad was watching TV. Clearly, no emergency had happened. What had transpired is that he’d shoved the cordless phone in his jeans pocket so he could get any call from me and they really aren’t designed for that location. He’d accidentally had it “off the hook” the entire time due to the dial button being bumped.

All’s well that ends well, or so it is said. Me, I feel dizzy from going around in circles. It might be wise for me to take it easy this weekend, if the world permits.