Otherwise the same-old stuff. A bit of a fright the other evening. I had just finished supper when Linda called in a panic. I couldn't even understand what she was saying; but finally deciphered dad had fallen, hit his head and was bleeding. "Ok, I'll be right over."
I figured I was set for a night at the ER but by the time I got there ten minutes or so later things had quieted down. Mom and Linda were still edgy; but dad was seated at the table placidly munching away on a supper of spicy chicken wings, hash brown potatoes and carrots. He had a big bandage taped to his forehead. I asked him how he felt. "Fine," he said.
Apparently he had got tangled up in the legs of his walker when he tried to get up from the table and took a header onto the walker. Linda had to run next door to the neighbor to get help picking him up. And he had a gash across his forehead which mom immediately bandaged. The cut bled a tad but was not deep enough to require stitches.
"Does it hurt?"I inquired.
"Nope," he replied between a chew on a chicken wing and a fork full of spuds.
"OK, I'll be back at eight to help you get tucked-in." I headed back to my place for a couple of episodes of the Ace of Cakes...
Falling is, of course, one of the biggest fears of older folks. And for good reason. On the other hand, life is full of hazards and if the choice is between living in your own home or being placed in an institution - it's really no choice at all in my mind. And I'm pretty confident - in fact I know for a fact - dad feels the same way. On the other - other hand, Linda and mom both worry about dad falling since even between the two of them they cannot pick him up.
Such it is...as Grandma Newman used to say...
Elmer the Elder a couple of days ago. He's now sporting a big bandage on his forehead.On a more humorous note, I spent a good portion of yesterday with Aunt Emilie. She called about 9 AM to ask me for a ride to the dentist. There had been some mix-up with her appointment; but they had just called and said they could see her immediately.
Okey dokey.
Auntie has had a grand total of two teeth extracted - both of which were located at the back of her jaw and discreetly out-of-sight. Nonetheless she is determined to have at least one of them replaced with an implant and amazingly enough the State's retiree health plan will apparently cover this procedure. When I picked her up she was convinced that she could have the preliminary exam that morning and the procedure the following day or the day after that...before the end of the dental benefit year. I thought this a most unlikely scenario but kept my own counsel.
Upon arrival at the dentist's office we checked-in and took a seat in the waiting room. The only other person present was a kid I'd guess to be fourteen or fifteen who was busy playing with a yo yo. Auntie immediately struck-up a conversation with the lad. After the initial pleasantries they got down to the serious business of laying-out their respective medical conditions. As it turned out, they both suffer from depression. This engendered a lengthy discussion of the pros and cons of various psychotropic medications by two obviously knowledgeable consumers. Surreal.
Finally, we were summoned. A couple of x-rays and then a consultation. The dentist struck me as a capable and decent sort - notwithstanding his willingness to put an implant into the back of the jaw of an 84 year old. Things threatened to turn ugly, however, when it soon became clear that the chance of performing the required oral surgery in the next two days was nil. Auntie was distraught. Her proposed solution was that she would be happy to buy-off someone else on the doc's appointment calendar. I think she was half-kidding - but only half...
The doc gently suggested this was not a viable solution and furthermore he wanted her to see her regular dentist again before surgery since the x-rays showed several other problems that should be addressed forthwith. This prompted a comprehensive recitation by Auntie of her entire 84 year dental history including some near libelous allegations regarding several practitioners she has seen. Fortunately, the doc took it all in good humor.
Finally, in a rare moment of silence I weighed-in with a suggestion on how we might rationally proceed. Auntie reluctantly agreed. The doc looked relieved. We tottered-out to the reception desk and made an appointment for February. After the first of the year I need to make her an appointment with her regular dentist.
An amusing episode from start to finish...
Well gonna go have a workout. And then I have to take mom to see the orthopedic surgeon... This will be much more sedate than yesterday's sortie however.
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