I didn't realize I was supposed to know how to do everything by my second rodeo.
Seems like a very low amount of rodeos.
😄😄😄
I've been meaning to write another blog entry for a while, but I just haven't had time to sit and put my thoughts together. Well, now I have a few minutes to throw a few words together and see what happens, because my latest lunchtime meeting got done early. So here you go, in no particular order.
1. Rona, how I detest thee. This latest chapter starts on Monday morning when I was at work, getting ready for the first full day of a full week of clinic, when I got a phone call from my Mom. She rarely calls me that early in the morning (not that it was the wee hours -- it was about 8am), so I knew Something was Up. The nursing home had called and said they were sending my Dad to the hospital because he was "unresponsive and had a fever". Unresponsive puts me into tachycardia and when it's used to describe someone I know and love, it makes me feel like my heart has just fallen straight down into my pelvis, but I didn't let on because my Mom was already freaking out. She'd already told me that she'd seen him the day before and he said he didn't feel good and just didn't seem "right". That was all she knew; she said she was going to give it some time then call the hospital to see what was going on. I agreed that that was a good plan. Then about an hour later, she called me and said that he'd tested positive for COVID. And they were still sending him to the hospital.
Long story short, today is Thursday and my Dad is still in the hospital. Improving -- he has COPD and some other lung issues, so was admitted due to hypoxia because of the 'vid and needed supplemental oxygen. He is now weaned off the oxygen (although he needed it while sleeping last night) so I think the plan was to discharge him back to the nursing home today or tomorrow. It sucks that I can't be up there to see him personally -- but I'm thankful for the online portal that allows me to see the notes made by his care team so I can keep up on these things ;) because even though my Mom goes up there every day (which is another story...), she doesn't get the same story I do. I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just that, one of the advantages to being a nurse and to having been a hospital nurse is that I know "the other side". It drives me absolutely crazy that I don't get to see the nursing home notes (and yes, I have asked) for that reason. Anyway, I digress. He's improving, that's the important part.
My mom tested negative on Tuesday morning, so she decided it's OK if she continues to go up to the hospital to visit him. I could write a whole 'nother blog on THAT but I won't right now. After notifying the proper management at work of the situation, I kept working in clinic on Monday and Tuesday in-person, but with a mask on and whilst attempting to socially distance as much as possible. I tested negative on Tuesday evening and was asymptomic. Wednesday, I worked from home as was already scheduled and started feeling a few symptoms that I mostly wrote off as pyschosomatic, but then I checked my temp before bed and it was 100.4*F. So I notified my manager and the HR manager, and made arrangements to work at home instead of going into the office today. And this morning I tested and...hello, round 3! UGH. Rona, how I detest thee.
I feel "ok" so far. Throat is a little sore, my head hurts, I'm tired. I don't have a fever this morning now. I'm working from home. My nose is running and my body aches. Maybe this round won't be as bad. Honestly, I wouldn't have even tested for the 'vid if I hadn't knowingly been exposed to someone who came down with it two days after I'd been with them last.
2. Dementia still sucks. I have so many thoughts about this, I could write a book and I can't think of a creative and witty way to title it, except that it just sucks.
So we've been cleaning out my Dad's garage. I call it "my Dad's garage" even though technically it's "my parents' garage" seeing as how it's a part of the property they both own, I guess, but let's be honest: my Dad is the car guy. Was the car guy. He was the mechanic. Everything we're cleaning out in there is his. Was his. Are there things out there that belong to my Mom? Sure. Technically. But 99.7% of the things out there are his. And it just feels wrong to be going through it all without him knowing about it, or without him there. Most of it is being packed up and brought out to my place, where it will be either given a new home here, or eventually sold (and the money will be going back to my Mom).
But cleaning out the garage is emotionally and physically draining for me in ways I can't even explain. I suppose it will be the same way when I eventually have to clean out the house, too. But the garage is different. It is ALL only my Dad's stuff. It has been eye-opening for me how little my Mom knows about my Dad's stuff out there, and how much *I* know about it. KWIM? Not that I'm an expert in any way, in fact my hubby is better at identifying a lot of the random things we find than I am...I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's very hard not to talk to my Dad about it when I see him. I want to tell him about all the cool things we're finding, and ask him about some of the cool things we're finding, but I can't. Per my Mom's request. It might make him upset.
That's all I have time for, right now. Work beckons. TTFN!
