A Skippers Tale XIII

Slow and Steady

If my daily posts peter off a bit for the next little while, it’s not because anything drastic has happened more likely it’s something to the contrary.

Dad provided Mum with little sleep last night, between his snoring (situations normal) and a dry tickly cough that he managed to pick up on the ward (typical) it made for an interrupted night.  I do know in the wee small hours of the morning Dad had gotten up to go to the bathroom and one bout of coughing woke me up.  I quick check that it was just coughing and not being sick and I went back to my own fitful night of disturbed slumber.

I’ve been fairly disconnected emotionally through most of the past two weeks, please don’t mistake that as not caring, far from it… I can most liken it to being like a black swan on the Swan River… majestically calm on the surface… paddling like shit underneath…  and I knew the possibility of me having a meltdown was very possible, and it finally sort of happened yesterday afternoon.

Dad is being very accepting of what is going on in his world right now, and he has a favourite expression along the lines of “If I wake up tomorrow and I am looking down on the grass… that’s great.  If I wake up tomorrow and find I’m looking up at the grass, it won’t bother me because I’ll be dead”.  The first couple of times I heard him say it to various people I could shrug it off… but yesterday as Dad called immediate family I must have heard it one too many times, or the actual words finally sunk in… because that was that… Awooga Awooga we have reached critical mass!  Initiating meltdown in 3…2…1…  A brief respite, hissyfit, bout of hysterical crying and 10 minutes later; back on track.

Apart from that, and the sleep issue, yesterday passed very sedately.  This morning the Silver Chain nurse arrived to do Dad’s readings and check him over.  His INR had increased from 1.1 to 1.8 in a day… so dependent on what his readings are like for the next couple of days, he might reach therapeutic levels by the end of the week and Dad can move from the Clexane to just prophylactic Warfarin.  (I’m sorry, but does anyone else giggle when they hear or use the word prophylactic?)  Peter our morning Nurse also removed Dad’s staples (Mum thought this was a good time to take Coco for a play in the backyard.)  He should be able to wash his hair as early as tomorrow if the morning nurse is happy with the suture line.  Already little prickles of hair have started sprouting where the shave occurred, God bless the Lawrence hair gene!  We got that one right!

A snooze around lunch and a generally lazy afternoon has led us to the here and now… Mum and Dad are watching New Tricks from the other night, and I’m just surfing the net before heading to bed.  If anything new, exciting or interesting happens… I will post… as they say in on the TV… Tune in… Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel.

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