Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Dr. Flam signed my dad's discharge papers early yesterday morning, and he was discharged mid-afternoon yesterday.

After the stent was removed, my dad actually enjoyed chicken noodle soup.  He put away quite a few lemon yogurts and bowls of cream of wheat.  His eating was less enthusiastic yesterday, but I wrote that off to jitters about going home.  Last night he said he had no appetite, but managed to eat some soup and a lemon yogurt.  I didn't see the pattern, but in retrospect, it was an echo of the earlier pattern that preceded acute esophagus issues.

This morning started as a really normal day for me.  Amid the buzz of my three daughters getting ready for school, I called my parents around 8:00 am to see how dad's night went.  Me: "Hey, mom, how did dad do last night?"  Mom: "I can't talk.  I'm on the other line with Dr. Lewis."  Me: "Is everything OK?"  Mom: "No, he can't swallow again, he's going to the hospital. I'll call you back in a minute."

I wanted to cry, and I did tear up, but that is all I had time for. It was time for the team to pull together.  The day went from normal to high gear.

My youngest brother, Michael, helped my mom get my dad ready to go to the hospital.  In the meantime, my other brother, Brian, was still recovering from his Saturday surgery.  Brian wasn't feeling great.  In the midst of it all, my mom had to go to the doctor.  To top it off, my youngest daughter, Bel, stopped getting ready for school and started complaining she didn't feel good.  She was off to the doctor.  I had a regularly scheduled doctor's appointment.

My dad was scheduled to have a PEG feeding tube and a new (smaller) stent put in at noon, and was supposed to be at the hospital for 10:30.  So the morning went like this:

8:45 My wife, Dana, took Sara to school
8:45 I took Eva to school
9:00 I went to Home Depot to buy a wireless doorbell for dad to use as a call button (press downstairs, rings upstairs)
9:15 Mom went to the doctor
9:40 I went to the doctor
9:45 Mom drops off an antibiotics prescription at CVS, they say they can't fill it fast enough so she can get home in time to take dad to the hospital.
10:00 Michael had arranged to have a supplier come over and evaluate whether a chair lift can be installed on the staircase.  Michael handles the visit, but it doesn't look like it is going to be something that makes sense to do.
10:10 My wife Dana volunteers to pick up my mom's prescription at CVS and take it to the hospital.
10:15 I pull up at my parents' house as they're putting my dad in the car
10:16 Youngest brother Michael drives my dad's car to the hospital; I drive my car to the hospital; my mom drives my dad in her car to the hospital.  Turns out we actually needed the flexibility of multiple cars, so lack of carpooling was good
10:30 Shuster caravan arrives at hospital
10:45 Dana arrives with the prescription.  CVS gave her my dad's prescription, not my mom's.  My mom needs those antibiotics.  Dana heads back to CVS to get the prescription.  Dana doesn't complain at all, which is more than I could have pulled off.
11:15 Dana arrives with the correct prescription.  We discuss registering Sara (our middle daughter) for Kindergarten, which apparently requires camping out at the school by 6:00 a.m. tomorrow in order to avoid getting assigned to a school all the way across town.  We realize that we have a problem because Bel's doctor appointment is 2:00 pm and we won't have a free person to pick up my oldest daughter Eva at 3:05 p.m.  Dana calls Margaret (Eva's mom, my ex-wife) and she cancels her doctor's appointment so Eva can take the school bus to her house.  I'm super-thankful for a very functional blended family.
11:45 Dad is having pain and gets a painkiller via IV (the IV went it without much difficulty, a good thing)
12:00 Dad is taken to the endoscopy suite, then a bit later to radiology where the procedure will be done.
12:05 We all talk with Dr. Lewis.  Michael, mom and I are sent to the waiting room.
12:10 We wait.
1:00 Dr. Lewis gets us, and tells us the procedure went well.  He walks us back to where dad is.  We ask him what the biopsy results were from the sample he took on Friday when removing the stent, and he said he didn't have them yet, but that Dr. Flam would have them.  Mom puts in a call to Dr. Flam asking for them.
1:10 Michael goes home to keep an eye on Brian.  Mom and I wait for dad to wake up.
1:30 Dad wakes up, we visit with him, he's barely awake.  We go back to the waiting room so he can sleep.
2:00 Dana takes Bel to the doctor.  Dual ear infection.  Dana's third trip to the pharmacy is underway.
2:00 Mom and I are shown a really bad video of a woman with "flock of seagulls" hair explaining (incorrectly, it turns out) how to use a feeding tube.  There are 20 minutes I'm never getting back.
2:30 Dad is ready to go, mom goes to get the car.  Dad tells me that he has a vague recollection of fighting the doctor's efforts to get the tube in.  That probably explains the extra anesthetic he got and the longer than expected groggy period.
3:00 Nurse helps dad get into the car.
3:15 We arrive at my parents' house.  (I think I might have gotten about 30 minutes off on this schedule, since 3:15 seems earlier than it really happened).
3:30 Dad is in his bed, exhausted.
3:35 Dad is scheduled to see Dr. Flam at 8:30 tomorrow, but we think today's events probably make that appointment unnecessary.  Mom calls Dr. Flam again asking for biopsy results and whether he needs to go to his appointment.
4:00 First Super Tuesday results come in.  Dad turns it on and watches for a few minutes, then naps.
4:55 Mom places third call to Dr. Flam, and he's already on the exchange.  So we still don't know if we have biopsy results or an appointment tomorrow.
5:30 In the ironic moment of the day, I get a call from St. Agnes billing about a bill I got and apparently didn't pay quickly enough -- because I was too busy caring for my dad as a St. Agnes inpatient.  The message said to call them back and that they were open until 6:00 p.m.  I called back right away, but it turns out that they were only open until 3:00 p.m.  Very annoying.
6:00 Dad is settled.  He has some pain related to the PEG, but he seems OK. I head to the store to get dinner.

Dad wants to have a few days without a doctor or hospital visit, and we will try to accomplish that.  Today we had one doctor visit for each generation (my mom, myself, and my daughter) -- plus my dad's outpatient procedure.

My wife has been great.  My oldest daughter, Eva, has been a terrific help.  My youngest daughters have been solid.  My youngest brother took control of what needed to be controlled.  My middle brother soldiered through his discomfort.  My ex wife helped.  My mom was amazing, fighting through her infection.  There is no substitute for a family that pulls together.  My dad must have done something right because he built the framework for all of this since becoming a parent in 1967.

I'm tired just looking at the list of what happened today.  I wish there was some witty closing sentence I could use, but I have to recycle the one thing I said today that got my dad to smile.  While we were waiting for Dr. Lewis, I told my dad "you know, just three more of these surgeries and the fourth one is free."  It was nice to see him smile.