Five weeks ago my dad had an episode as he bent down on their home's basement steps to pick up his belt and billfold. He passed out briefly and fell between the stairs and railing, landing on the concrete floor of the basement. My mom was doing laundry on the other side of the basement and heard it happen. She immediately knew that he was hurt and called 911.
After multiple calls back and forth to me, she stressfully asked that I come to the hospital and that they would be transporting my dad to St. Mary's Hospital in Rochester. I hurriedly packed a bag and ran out the for at 10:30 PM and drop the 90 miles to the hospital in their hometown. Minutes later we left for Rochester – arriving at 12:30 AM. At that point we sat in a room in the Emergency Department for six hours while their ran tests and monitored my dad and devised a plan. It had already been determined that he had broken his pelvis and that there was internal bleeding.
By 8 AM he had gone in for a procedure to stop the internal bleeding. Around 10 AM we were informed that they would take a non-surgical approach for the broken pelvis. His time in the hospital began on Tuesday. I returned home having been awake for 36 hours at this point, my mom did the same.
She confidently began the daily journey to St. Mary's Hospital in Rochester to see my dad daily. On Thursday, she informed me that he wasn't doing well and I left work to drive to Rochester. I spent Thursday and Friday there before returning home again.
The following Monday morning I was informed that he would be moving to a rehab facility in a nearby town. I left work and drove there so he would have a familiar face to see when he arrived. After visiting with him for a few hours, I went to my parent's house to help my mom with a few things before leaving to return home again.
The next week or so was filled with frequent updates from my mom. My dad had ups and downs, missed being home and, most concerning, was regularly confused. He was frustrated with himself when he knew that he couldn't remember things. He mis-remembered things that had happened when my mom wasn't present and he was, for lack of a better word, depressed.
On July 3rd, I took yet another day off rom work and brought my kids along to see their grandpa. It raised his spirits even if it was only for about two hours. He was happy and when we left he was ready to sleep for a bit. We had accomplished our goal. The next few days looked good as we were going to Duluth for a brief vacation.
And everything about that vacation went well until 9:30 PM Saturday night when I received call from my mom stating that my dad was unresponsive and was being taken to the ER. In ten minutes we had hurriedly packed and were on our way from the north shore of Lake Superior to ten minutes from the Iowa border. In about three hours we arrived at the hospital with a few calls from my mom providing updates as we drove. Once there, I was surprised to see that my dad was doing well. When the doctor did finally come into the room, I basically took over. It turns out that this was his third ER visit in as many days. I calmly asked my dad how bad his pain was and then firmly explained to the doctor that the amount of Oxycontin being given to him was essentially putting him in a comatose state. Cut it in half if not more. Move up some of the appointments because a month out wasn't going to help anything. And keep pushing the rehab facility to actually follow the medication plan. Them medicating him to the point of being unresponsive doesn't accomplish anything positive.
After that things went slowly. It would be two full weeks until I made my way back to visit my dad and this time I tied it in to accompanying him to a follow-up appointment at St. Mary's Hospital. On Sunday we visited for a couple hours before I went to my parent's house to help my mom with yard work. I had brought my large ring lawn mower and set to work on their eight acre yard. As I found out rather quickly, some of it hand't been mowed yet this year. In just over three hours, though, with myself and my mom mowing, we had covered every inch of that massive yard. We even managed to rake and back about 1/4 of the overall lawn due to the accumulation of grass. The next day we went to his appointment at St. Mary's Hospital.
The general prognosis was good. The multiple fractures in his pelvis were approximately 80% heeled and he could now progress with putting incrementally more weight on his left leg. In a month he would be 100% weight bearing. Of course, that would require the rehab facility to actually follow Mayo Clinic's directions. St. John's Lutheran Home in Albert Lea, MN is apparently poor at following guidelines from hospitals. After two days of rehab on the new plan, he has yet to put any weight on his left leg. Their insurance has stopped covering his expenses in the rehab facility. The care facility doesn't even have a proper scale to see if he is, in fact, putting the appropriate amount of weight on his leg. Of course that doesn't really matter because, as I mentioned earlier, they aren't having him put weight on his leg. All of a sudden, the four week timeline is being drawn out. It is costing them hundreds and hundreds of dollars per day out of pocket for care and rehab which isn't following the process laid out by the Mayo Clinic.
These are the frustrations of being an only child. These are the frustrations of having aging parents. These are the worries of seeing physical and mental decline happen in someone who had never slowed down for anything. This is reality.
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