Thursday, October 2, 2008

Stroke... what an ugly word

It figures.

I had my total physical (EKG, blood work, tetnus shot included) and came out fine. Diabetes under control, blood pressure under control, weight under control. I'm feeling pretty darn good.

Cubs are due to start playing their first game in what hopefully will be a long series - wow, I'm feeling pretty darn good!

I get to my cell phone - and have eight messages.

I NEVER have eight messages.

Turns out, my father had a stroke and is in the hospital.

Coming back from San Francisco, he started driving erraticly - swerving in and out of lanes. My mom thought he just was a little under with his diabetes, and they stopped and he ate something...

But later that night, he started talking goobledegook and it went downhill from there. Luckily my brother-in-law was there to flag down the ambulance (my parents live far back off the street and it's DARK there) and my sister was visiting from Atlanta so she got to take care of my grandmother while my mom and other sister followed the ambulance...

Sigh.

I mean, we had seen this coming, kind of... but not so soon. My Dad hasn't reached seventy yet.

He doesn't take care of himself. Doesn't go to sleep until early morning and then sleeps in until noon or so. Just sits and watches TV. What happened to my Dad?

Look, I know bad stuff happens.

To a lot of good people.

Heck, I caught up with my sister at the pulmonologists for a three year old, just got out of the hopsital - again. Breathing problems, collapsed lung - you know, the usual.

It's just... well, until fairly recently, my Dad was a big, bold man who lived life heartily and all, and now he's... old. Rapidly growing older.

Who knows, it maybe a transient ischemia - that means it just goes away.

But it never goes away entirely. Life is going to be changing in big ways for not only my parents, but for Shannon and Ben and their three kids (live only eight miles away) and my grandmother, who's got her own set of problems but hey, she's 95 :) .

I know there's really no sense complaining about it - although I hope I'm venting, not actually complaining. You deal with what life deals you and go on, I know that.

You can't do much else, really.

It's just, well... he's my Dad.

1 comment:

Martin said...

KC, it's really hard when our parents are aging. We're at that point in our lives. My parents are in their mid-70's. I remember how hard it was when my Dad has his bypass surgery seven years ago. As you say "it's your Dad". I get the feeling.