Saturday, September 17, 2005

Progress Report on Dad

The short story: Dad is progressing very well and may get out as soon as this coming Wednesday, 21 September. Mom is happy over that news.

The long story: My Dad is a daft pain in the buttocks.

The man had knee surgery this past Tuesday. He was told to stay off it until he was moved into the "therapy care unit". He did.

He was moved Thursday.

He was told he should always request assistance. He was told not to get out of bed until he was issued a walker. Even then, he was to contact a nurse for help. He was told he may sit up in a chair for brief periods at a time.

The man doesn't listen.

I called him yesterday (Friday).

me: Hey, Pop!

dad: Hey, how's the baby?

me: Fine. Baby's doing good. She wasn't so clinging this morning when I dropped her off at school.

dad: That's good. And how about you? How are you making out there in work?

me: Eh. Kinda hectic. T leaving really messed up a lot of getting work done for month and quarter end. And the auditors have been crawling everywhere.

It's at this point I know he's not paying attention 'cause I hear channels flipping in the background.

me: So how's it going there?

dad: Oh pretty good. I got up this morning and walked to the bathroom.


me: Um, Dad? Didn't they say stay off your leg until you got your walker?

dad: Yeah but I had to go and I pushed that stupid red button (nurse call button) and no one came. So I got up, leaned on various things, and did it myself.

Long pause because I have my head in my hand

me: Dad, they tell you these things for a reason. You could have injured yourself.

dad: Ehhh, what the hell do they know?

me: Oh brother. Did the nurses yell at you?

dad: (laughs) Yeah. I played dumb. (laughs again)

His physical therapist is amazed at his recovery speed for his age. My Dad may be old, but he is one tough man.

He once told my brother, who was a goalie for a soccer team, when he got kicked in the face one particular game that he looked okay and to finish the game. Dumb-dumb did. When they came home and my mom saw the bloodied mess that was my brother's lower half of his head, she rushed him to the hosipital. He needed forty stitches, he broke a tooth, and developed an infection. I thought my Mom was going to kill my Dad. My Dad looked at my Mom and was all "He's okay. Don't coddle him." But that was my Dad!

The man was bit by a brown recluse spider in Florida twenty years ago. His leg blew up. He was sick as a dog. He had the worst festering thing on his leg I had ever seen in my life (still to this day). The doctor told him by all rights, he should have lost his leg. But he didn't 'cause my Dad fought it. At least that's what I believe.

So now the tough old guy will be home a week ahead of schedule. Good thing. I don't think the escape plan in the cart would have worked too well.


PissedOffPencil said...

My dad was like that too. :)

Funny enough, he was always flattened out by the common cold...

Merci said...

My dad was like that, too. Sometimes it worked for him, sometimes it worked against him.

CrankyProf said...

I'm glad he's doing so well. You must be an amazing person, to have such a stubborn and healthy dad!

Virginia Gal said...

Glad to hear Dad is doing well - my hats off to your mum who I think is going to have a tough time having him follow doctor's orders.

Maidink said...

POP - My dad laughs at colds! HA! He shoves ice cubes down the shirts of germs! It took a spider bite to flatten him out.

Merci - With my dad (touch wood) it has worked for him. Now me - I sniffle and I stay home. I'm a wuss when it comes to being sick.

CP - Oh, he is a hammer! Drives my poor mum right up the friggin wall.

VG - She'll threaten to send his butt back to the hospital. That'll keep him in line.

Rowan said...

LOL my dad was a lot like that too! Everyone told us he was a goner, was in a coma for 16 weeks, made a full recovery....5 years later, he died unexpectedly in his sleep. My sister played softball, got a ball thrown at her face by an opposing team member, broken nose, bloody, and racoon face from the bruising, she looked awful, my dad made her finish the game too!

Maidink said...

My dad is a hammer. I broke my ankle in fourth grade. He looked at me and said "She can walk on it" and expected me to. Two years and six operations later, my ankle healed.

But I love him!