My Father had to go to the Hospital

I was on the road again recently. This time, I was visiting my parents. My father had a stent put in his heart. I was at my parents for a few days, visiting my father and going to my parents' house with my mom, sleeping there, and heading back to the hospital in the morning.

My sister lives closest to my parents. She was with them at the hospital in the beginning. My brother, who was dealing with an illness in his own family, was able to visit for a couple of days. My leg had healed well enough for me to make the drive to the hospital where Dad was resting. He hadn't been feeling well, and checked in to the hospital where the staff could check him out.

I got the reports from my mother until I got there to see first-hand how things were going. He was going to need two stents put in. Nothing too major, I guess. I found out the surgery wasn't even that invasive.

A Busy Hospital

Things were busy at the hospital. Leading up to the surgery, Dad didn't even have a room. He was in a bed in the hall. Visitors were limited to one at a time. People couldn't be crowded around a bed in the hall taking up space where doctors and nurses needed to move from room to room. There was also the issue of other patients being wheeled around the hospital, so we took turns seeing him. My brother came up and visited for a while before heading back home to take care of his own family. My sister checked in from time to time on her way to and from work. I was there day and night taking care of my parents. They were very grateful to have someone as unselfish as me, their firstborn son, making sure Dad was well in the hospital and then making sure Mom was taken care of when we got back home.

While Dad was in the hall, we had some entertainment. We were outside the room of a belligerent patient who didn't like anything the hospital was doing for them. The impatient's family was trying to calm them down and assure them they were in good hands. This wasn't good enough, and the agitated soul wanted answers, and someone from the hospital to explain to them what was going on. My father didn't have a room, but being outside a room where we were provided with some free entertainment was a nice consolation prize.

There were some jokes to go along
with the "free entertainment".

Dad gets a Room, Greg gets Bothered

Eventually, Dad got a room, which meant more than one person could visit at a time. It also meant my mother was able to find new things to worry about, like me and my leg. I have been constantly reminding my parents that my own surgery was a success, and the good doctor told me as much. Mom should worry about other things, like Dad and his heart. No such luck, and Mother was consistently making sure my leg was elevated at the proper angle and that I was resting like I should be. Wife didn't help matters any by taking Mom's side and telling me I should listen to my mother. No one was around to defend me, so it was just me all alone to take this unnecessary haranguing.

Mother and I continued to drive back and forth to the hospital. Dad was doing well. He was recovering nicely and having a bed and a room certainly helped things, I'm sure. Even in the room, Mom was on my case about my leg and told me to make sure it was raised. Mothers can be so panicky sometimes when it comes to the littlest things. I reminded Mom that I was the only child who was here day and night with my ailing father, and maybe she should direct her attention to the other children who were obviously too busy to spend some time with their infirm father. She thanked me for coming up to visit, and proceeded to make sure my leg was elevated properly.

Trips to the Grocery Store, and a Ship

My sister and her husband did visit my father, making sure he

The ship bequeathed by my
 brother-in-law's family.

was recovering well. My brother-in-law's grandfather had been a patient at this hospital before and carved out a wooden ship for the hospital. That ship remains on display at the hospital. My brother-in-law was happy to see they continued to show it off to the good people who visit.

Mom and I went to the grocery store. Dad was going to be hungry when he got home, and Mom wanted to make sure there were plenty of choices for him. I went along and tried to make some suggestions regarding what dear old Dad might like. My suggestions weren't heart-healthy enough for my mother, who vetoed just about everything I thought he would like. Sorry, Dad. I tried.

With the grocery shopping done, Mom and I returned to the hospital, where Dad had been discharged. We picked up Dad and his doctor's orders, brought him home, and let him rest in the quiet confines of his own home. He was glad to be back, and we were glad to have him back. I updated Wife and the rest of the family of the progress. Wife kept asking about my leg. I told her my other was already picking on me about that.

Dad was settled in, and I was able to pack my things and get ready to return home. It had been a few days since I had seen my loving family. When I returned, children were on screens. Everyone said how much they missed me and returned to their technology fix. I made coffee for the next day, unpacked my bag, and talked to Wife about the action I had missed at the homestead. My mother texted me to thank me for visiting and for being the only child who had cared enough to actually stay with my father at all hours. I told her it was my pleasure, and my siblings would just have to deal with the guilt in their own way. My head hit the pillow for a night of restful slumber, and my alarm woke me in the next morning for another round of madness.

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