Father may be dying

My father may be dying.

 

I have not seen him yet. What follows is adapted almost entirely from e-mails from my mother.

 

A week ago Monday night, his heart doctor put him in the hospital for a few days. They had been trying for some time without success to get rid of the excess fluid in his body by giving him oral diuretics and the doctor said he needed to go into the hospital where they could administer some more potent diuretics by IV, and watch him closely. My mother added explicitly that it was not an emergency or life-threatening situation, and that he expected to be out in two or three days. But she added that he was pretty uncomfortable and would appreciate a phone call, however brief.

 

I think Brother went out to visit. ((He lives a lot closer than I do.) I called. In the space of a 5-10 minute call I inserted at least three jokes -- the only one I remember was when I asked him, "So, with all these diuretics: do you suppose this is your doctor's way of telling you to piss off?" He laughed and repeated it to my mother. Father and I get along a lot better when we can use humor to lubricate the gears.

 

He was discharged from the hospital on Thursday. During his stay in the hospital he had lost about 13 pounds (presumably all water) but the experience left him considerably weakened, tired and disoriented. That night my parents stayed in a nearby hotel, as the electric company was to be doing some major repairs/upgrades in their neighborhood and they wanted to be somewhere with power.

 

But that night Father had a bad fall in the bathroom. He hit his coccyx and his head pretty hard.  My mother called the main desk and a big burly security guy came to help him into bed. His GP saw nothing wrong the next day, but Father still had considerable pain in his hips, ribs and coccyx. The doctor took no X-rays.

 

They spent the weekend trying to get back to normal. Father was so tired and weak he could barely walk across the room with the aid of a walker. Yesterday, Monday, he had two doctor's appointments: one at 12:30 with the cardiologist and one at 2:15 with the kidney doctor. The day was extremely hot -- maybe up to 106. They borrowed wheelchairs at both doctors' offices to get him into the offices for his appointments. The cardiologist noted that he had lost a lot of water, but his blood pressure was dangerously low. Rather than send Father back to the hospital, which he dreaded, the doctor changed some of his medications to eliminate the ones that were driving the blood pressure down. The kidney doctor observed the same thing. His pressure was even lower there. My mother though it might have something to do with his not having eaten since 9:30 AM, or with the heat of the day and the regimen of appointments. But his blood sugar was good. Anyway, the two doctors consulted by phone and agreed on the changes in medications.

 

When they got home, Father was unable to get out of the car and walk into the house, even with the help of the walker. (They are trying to get him a wheelchair, but the usual Medicare red tape is taking time.) He ended up on the ground by the side of the car, and my mother was unable to pick him up. So she called 911. They came and carried him into the house, then took various vital signs again and informed us that his blood pressure was too low and they needed to take him to the emergency room. My mother tried to protest, but they finally persuaded him so off he went. They put him in a bed and on an IV for fluids. The doctor in charge said that he needed to stay overnight for observation, but that he would go home today. They took a CAT scan and X-rays. He was bitterly cold in the ER so my mother fetched him a wool blanket from home. She waited till 11:00 to hear the results of the tests, and to find out which room he would be put in, but nobody came. So she went home to sleep.

 

This morning my mother called the hospital and was told that he is now in the ICU. They found that he had a blood infection, and started tests to find out where it came from. They are giving him antibiotics. The doctor told her to think about whether they should use "extreme measures." She spoke to Father briefly on the phone and he sounded very tired and confused.

 

I keep hoping to hear more about the prognosis. Son 1 and Son 2 are staying with me this week. Do I take tomorrow off work so the three of us can drive the two or three hours (each way) to see him? It sounds like it might be a good idea. I'd like to know more, so that the decision becomes obvious.

 

But maybe -- really -- it already is.