The last few weeks have been ugly for Dad and all of us. He went into a skilled nursing facility for rehab on Thursday, March 18th and early the following Tuesday morning I get a call from Rainier Vista, the nursing facility, telling me that he'd fallen off his bed the night before. The nurse on the phone assured me he was alright and that they lowered his bed to prevent possible injury in the future, and had him sitting in a chair and would check in on him every 15 minutes. Apparently in these facilities they can't put rails on the bed because of WA state law. It was explained to me that nursing facilities are homes to some people and it isn't right to restrain people in their own homes, even if the illness is serious and the chance of falling is inevitable. So he fell, and when I got there they had him sitting in a chair. He complained of lower back pain and wanted to lay down but the assistant on duty said the shuttle would arrive shortly to take him to dialysis, which was a surprise to me because when he was admitted we were told they didn't have shuttles for the timeframe that he was scheduled 3:45 pm). So since the shuttle wasn't due to arrive for another two hours I told the guy I wanted Dad to lay in bed until the last possible minute to ease the pain in his lower back (probably the kidneys), to make him comfortable before he had to be carted off to Davita Dialysis center.
I hated seeing Dad wheeled onto that shuttle. His head was hanging over his chest and he just didn't look right. And he looked so forlorn. I followed the shuttle over to the dialysis center. I got there first, because the shuttle had to make stops to pick up other riders. About 15 minutes after I got there, it arrived, and Dad dropped off. I wheeled him into the facility and we were asked to wait in the lobby because it was still 45 minutes before he started dialysis. I didn't like the way he looked, something was off. His head was still hanging forward and he was not very responsive. I asked, "Dad, what's wrong?" And he'd mumble, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness." I asked him if he needed a Tylenol and he said yes but when I tried to give two, the first went down with water and the second just sat his tongue. I said, "Dad, something's wrong and you're scaring me." He mumbled. "I don't want to scare you." I went through the wide door leading to the room where several people reclined in chairs plugged into the dialysis machine, grabbed a nurse and explained Dad's condition. I told her he wasn't acting right, something was wrong. The nurse came out and took his vitals, checked his sugar and said he seemed okay. She went back into the other room. Right after that Dad started moaning and shaking with drool coming from his mouth. I yelled for someone to help him. A couple people came running and agreed to call an ambulance after questioning me as to whether this was normal behavior for him. Hmmm...drooling from the mouth and shaking violently...really? When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics did there thing and one of the guys asked Dad to smile. Dad's face didn't change one bit. "Dad, he asked you to smile." Dad mumbled, "I am." But he wasn't. I-was-terrified. Vickie walked in the door at the same moment I felt my composure crumble. I was on the verge of reverting into a two year old and balling my eyes out.
The ambulance took him back to Good Sam where he was admitted for almost two weeks. He'd had a stroke. In addition, he was put on some new medication to treat an increased heart rate and low blood pressure.
And there you have it. But I'm not done because there's so much more to this update.
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