August 17, 2012: Postcard from Hell Week

          Such fun I’ve had these past three days. Tuesday morning, my father had a nosebleed that lasted three hours. I took him to his GP, who peeked at Dad over his computer screen from across the examining room, then recommended we go see an ear, nose, and throat specialist.

          The next day, Dad awakened with a swollen hand. I mean really swollen—it looked like a big, purple catcher’s mitt. I took him to the Emergency Room, certain that Doom’s Day had finally arrived. Turns out the phlebotomist Dad saw the day before at the GP’s had punctured a vein in his hand. The nice ER doc wrote a referral to a hand specialist.

I did not drink this, this week.

          Yesterday was also fun. While Dad was trying on a pair of shoes I’d bought him, he tipped over backwards in his chair and hit his head on the sewing machine. Wheee! Back to the ER, this time with Mom in tow.

          The triage nurse laughed when we walked in. “Have you been here this whole time?” she asked, referring to our visit of yesterday morning.

          “Yes,” I replied. “Just wandering the halls.” I pointed to my mother. “We found this old woman and were hoping you’d let us keep her.”

 Thing I Hate Today: Running out of toilet paper

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One Response

  1. As Charlie Brown would say, “Good grief.” Think you’d better monitor your BP or you’ll be visiting the ER. My nerves couldn’t take those three days. Not even mantra/meditation would help!

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