One day at a time, sweet Jesus

That's all I'm asking of You

Just give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do...

It's amazing what six solid hours of sleep can do for a person.  ("A person" meaning me.) Even if that sleep is obtained while in a recliner in a different house in a noisy neighborhood while a person is also half-listening for another person's activity.  

Long story short: my Mom broke her hip last weekend. She had  total hip replacement on Tuesday and was discharged home on Thursday.  The last time my Mom was a patient in the hospital was just over 47 years ago, when she gave birth to a legend.  (Yes, that would be me!)

On the same day that my Mom broke her hip, my Dad was taken to the ER for what ended up being a COPD exacerbation and generalized weakness.  I mean, the ambulance taking him to the ER had literally just pulled away, and my Mom had gone back into the house to turn off the TV and call for a ride and lock up the house, and she was walking back outside to wait for her ride when BAM, femoral head fracture.

So, not to make this all about me because it certainly is NOT (oh, who am I kidding?! It's my blog, of course it's about me.) but that's how I started the Craziest Week of 2021 (So Far): trying to get a hold of my Dad in the ER at one hospital in one of the Twin Cities (which was a task in and of itself because this particular facility apparently has a rule against transferring calls to ER patients...) to let him know that the reason my Mom wasn't at the hospital with him yet was because she was in the ER at a different hospital in the other of the Twin Cities, while also trying to keep in touch with my Mom to find out the extent of her injuries and her treatment plan.  And as much as I wanted to drop everything and run to the cities so I could see what was going on myself, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be allowed into any ER with the current COVID visitor restrictions.  Not only that, but I myself was only one day out of my COVID isolation period, and I was living with someone who was only halfway through their COVID isolation period as well.  So I stayed home and made phone calls and freaked the hell out.  I can handle one parent being hospitalized -- my Dad has been hospitalized a few times over the past few years, so this wouldn't have been the first time I stepped up to help out, and I'm glad to do so. But the added stress of my Mom being hospitalized (when she hadn't been hospitalized for, like I said, 47 years. And the last time was my fault, ha ha ha.) and trying to be there for both of them...well, I mean I guess now I know I can handle that as well, but for a while, it was iffy.

For me.  Not for them.  

Because I don't feel like reliving all of the details of the last week right now, I'll conclude with a Current Update.  My Mom is doing very well; today is post-op day 4, and her 2nd full day home, and she's doing great! She's very motivated to get back to baseline.  I'm staying with her for the time being until she gets back on her feet and regains the confidence and comfortability to be home alone.  I don't think it will take long.  Although, I will also have to reach an acceptable level of confidence and comfortability of her being home alone at night before that happens, too.  Heh.  My Dad spent, let's see, 6 days as an inpatient while his COPD was treated and the exacerbation resolved, and then was on a waiting list for short-term rehab to rebuild his strength.  He got into the short-term rehab (for lack of another term that I hate to use...) yesterday and as far as we can tell, is doing well.  He can't have visitors in the short-term rehab center, which sucks big fat donkey balls.  I'm a visual person. I don't like just getting info over the phone, I'd rather do it in person. I want to see for myself what this facility is like, what the people are like, etc.  

So my first few days back to work in the office after COVID went something like: try to get as much work done as possible while also keeping an eye on my cell phone to make sure I don't miss any important calls, then as soon as I could possibly manage to get out of the office (meaning when we were done seeing in-person patients) I would go to one hospital (usually the VA) and visit with one parent for a while, then go to the other hospital (Regions) and visit the other parent.  Then drive home, try to catch up with the hubby, debrief with him for a bit, then try to fall asleep so I can get up at o-early-hundred and do it all again.  It was utterly exhausting.   Then on Thursday morning, my Mom called before I even left for work and said she was being discharged that day, and could I pick her up and spend the night at the house (which we had already discussed)?  

SUNDAY 11/07/2021

Another two-day blog post. Yay! 

Anyway. I've been staying at my parents' house since last Thursday night, staying with my Mom while she recovers from emergency hip replacement surgery.  Which, at this point (POD #5!) is mostly emotional support.  She's doing awesome physically. Much better than she thought she would. She thought she would basically be an invalid for a few weeks. Good thing I'm a nurse and knew that wouldn't be the case.

The closing on our new place has been postponed a few weeks.  Not related to any of the above.  I'm bummed but not completely heartbroken, because of the above.  Hopefully in a few more weeks, I'll have more time to help.  I'm a pretty useless wife lately.  

It's been weird staying here again. Well, it was at first.  It's not as if my parents left my room the same when I moved out, or anything like that.  They don't have a spare bed or even a sleeper sofa anymore.  They do have two recliners and a loveseat.  I've been sleeping in my Dad's recliner. It's not horrible. I've slept in a lot more uncomfortable and inconvenient places (like the old "couch" in the OB waiting room at the old hospital where I used to work...lol).  

But I'm not used to how fricking loud the city is! Holy crap! There are cars driving by, bass pumping, car doors slamming shut, people yelling, tires screeching, all hours of the night. OK, not like constantly, but enough to keep me on Alert.  For the last 17 years, I've lived in the nice, quiet country, where occasionally a car drives by or a train rolls by in the distance, and if I heard someone yelling outside my window I'd be flipping the fuck out.  

However, the 20 minute drive to work is nice...heh.  Not nice enough that I want to move closer to work, or find a job closer to home, but it is nice to have a temporarily shorter drive.  

Alright, I'm gonna sign off for now.  Most of what is on my mind isn't fit to share in here, out of respect for my parents' privacy and my sanity.  But if you're the praying kind, could you please keep us in your prayers? God will know why.

Thanks.