Seven Spades Done
Saturday, December 10th, 2022 07:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudioSo, over the past two days, Dad's cognition has continued to decline. Today, he was basically at dementia level. Still recognized me... but didn't know exactly where he was or what was going on.
But the only painkiller he's been on for the past three days is Tylenol. Super strength Tylenol... but Tylenol.
So I asked the nurse today why the hell he's so out of it, and she said it was the anesthesia from the hip surgery... which was a week ago.
I did not know this, but apparently, with people his age, anesthesia can bring on long lasting delerium that... in some cases, is just permanent!
--<>--
So... things are not looking good for Dad.
It's been a week since his hip surgery and he really hasn't made any progress standing or walking at all. And over that time, his delerium has only gotten worse.
He's at Strive, ostensibly, to get back on his feet over the next two weeks, but... they've been happy to let him coast through the whole weekend in a diaper... just, in bed, or occasionally in a wheel chair.
The big action plan to restore him to full mobility can, apparently, wait until Monday.
--<>--
I personally think the handwriting is now on the wall, that Dad's not coming back home.
I've been keeping my five siblings updated via group text (and yes, we finally got Brian on board with that) the past week.
And tonight they're all very confident that he'll bounce back.
His delerium will clear up soon, and... sharp as a tack, mentally, Dad will dedicate himself to the tough PT regimen of his expert caretakers and regain full mobility in the next two or three weeks, and return home... and everything will go back to normal again!
Hooray!
And... they can think that.
But I'm privately of the mind, tonight, that... his fall at the DMV was the Coup De Grace for Dad.
The double whammy of a broken hip, AND, a broken brain, mean that it's almost impossible for him to come back home.
If his brain works, but he can't walk... can't come home.
Yet if his body works, but his mind is gone... can't come home.
Both body and mind, now have to return to November 30th levels... in the next two or three weeks... before his insurance cuts off the tap on the rehab coverage.
And, honestly, I think that would be nothing short of a miracle.
--<>--
If he was younger...
If he had ever struggled through a serious physical challenge before...
If he had ever grappled with a serious mental challenge before...
Then, he might have the grit to make it through this.
But he's never faced a physical or mental challenge like this before in his life... much less, both at the same time.
I'd love to be wrong, and have egg on my face, writing next January about how I really misread the situation, because he's back at home and it's all back to normal...
But I think he's in a tailspin right now... and it's gonna land him in a grave.
--<>--
I think, best case?.. he makes it three more months?
Worst case... dead before New Year.
What that means for the house, and me and the pets living here is... totally unknown at this point.
But... tonight we're okay.
Tomorrow begins a new week.
And I'm going to try and stay as alert, and positive, as I can, about everything... and continue with the current project that's keeping me sane in my free hours.
Seven Spades did get done on this Saturday, between dog walks, and visiting Dad, and running a few errands.
I do like how this turned out. It covers the different midpoint traditions, and captures the feeling of high winter... but, to me, this is also a nice card to stare at and meditate on.
It's curious, but calming?
I dunno. I'm happy with it.
The two punch holes on the left border of the card are there because I'm now envisioning that this deck would come in a little two-ring binder... maybe with a little stand... so that you could display it and use it as a perpetual calendar... but also unbind the cards and play around with them.
--<>--
I'm committed to this project now, which means I'm gonna keep going with it as far as I can, until life hits the pause button.
But I'll still see this through, if... the events to come, do not result in my becoming homeless and living under a bridge in a cardboard box.
°¦}
https://soundcloud.com/snoozefestaudio
But the only painkiller he's been on for the past three days is Tylenol. Super strength Tylenol... but Tylenol.
So I asked the nurse today why the hell he's so out of it, and she said it was the anesthesia from the hip surgery... which was a week ago.
I did not know this, but apparently, with people his age, anesthesia can bring on long lasting delerium that... in some cases, is just permanent!
So... things are not looking good for Dad.
It's been a week since his hip surgery and he really hasn't made any progress standing or walking at all. And over that time, his delerium has only gotten worse.
He's at Strive, ostensibly, to get back on his feet over the next two weeks, but... they've been happy to let him coast through the whole weekend in a diaper... just, in bed, or occasionally in a wheel chair.
The big action plan to restore him to full mobility can, apparently, wait until Monday.
I personally think the handwriting is now on the wall, that Dad's not coming back home.
I've been keeping my five siblings updated via group text (and yes, we finally got Brian on board with that) the past week.
And tonight they're all very confident that he'll bounce back.
His delerium will clear up soon, and... sharp as a tack, mentally, Dad will dedicate himself to the tough PT regimen of his expert caretakers and regain full mobility in the next two or three weeks, and return home... and everything will go back to normal again!
Hooray!
And... they can think that.
But I'm privately of the mind, tonight, that... his fall at the DMV was the Coup De Grace for Dad.
The double whammy of a broken hip, AND, a broken brain, mean that it's almost impossible for him to come back home.
If his brain works, but he can't walk... can't come home.
Yet if his body works, but his mind is gone... can't come home.
Both body and mind, now have to return to November 30th levels... in the next two or three weeks... before his insurance cuts off the tap on the rehab coverage.
And, honestly, I think that would be nothing short of a miracle.
If he was younger...
If he had ever struggled through a serious physical challenge before...
If he had ever grappled with a serious mental challenge before...
Then, he might have the grit to make it through this.
But he's never faced a physical or mental challenge like this before in his life... much less, both at the same time.
I'd love to be wrong, and have egg on my face, writing next January about how I really misread the situation, because he's back at home and it's all back to normal...
But I think he's in a tailspin right now... and it's gonna land him in a grave.
I think, best case?.. he makes it three more months?
Worst case... dead before New Year.
What that means for the house, and me and the pets living here is... totally unknown at this point.
But... tonight we're okay.
Tomorrow begins a new week.
And I'm going to try and stay as alert, and positive, as I can, about everything... and continue with the current project that's keeping me sane in my free hours.
Seven Spades did get done on this Saturday, between dog walks, and visiting Dad, and running a few errands.
I do like how this turned out. It covers the different midpoint traditions, and captures the feeling of high winter... but, to me, this is also a nice card to stare at and meditate on.
It's curious, but calming?
I dunno. I'm happy with it.
The two punch holes on the left border of the card are there because I'm now envisioning that this deck would come in a little two-ring binder... maybe with a little stand... so that you could display it and use it as a perpetual calendar... but also unbind the cards and play around with them.
I'm committed to this project now, which means I'm gonna keep going with it as far as I can, until life hits the pause button.
But I'll still see this through, if... the events to come, do not result in my becoming homeless and living under a bridge in a cardboard box.
°¦}
