Tuesday, November 06, 2007

150 slow bleed & sick dog

The nursing home just called me to ask about bringing my father to the hospital for a follow-up neurology appointment. The appointment that was canceled last week, the one we said was useless and stupid.
They are sure my father has a slow bleed deep in his brain. A neurology appointment would confirm that. To get his brain scanned, they have to load him into an ambulance and drive him half an hour to the same hospital that's mistreated him in the past and leave him lying around for god only knows how long before they get to him. And if the scan shows a slow bleed, guess what?
Nothing can be done. They can't/won't operate on someone as bad as him. There are no medicines for it.
So why bother? Why bother with the expense? And the stress on him? It's pointless.
I called my mom to tell her that I reiterated our position on the appointment, and to ask her to bring me the dog tomorrow so I can bring him up to see my father.
And she told me the dog is really sick, feverish and lethargic and being brought to the vet any moment.
You know what? I don't need this. I have a dying father and a dying cat. I'm enrolled in a really difficult 12 week programming class. I'm trying to work out more in preparation for my vacation to Mexico in 2 months (2 months from today)--I want to be able to run around in the jungle and climb pyramids without getting out of breath. And I'm doing National Novel Writing Month. There better not be anything wrong with that dog. He better not die. I can't take it.


Patty McNally Doherty said...

Dear Bert,

When I was overwhelmed, I thought of event as balls that were being tossed my way. They were all directed at me, pitched right to me, but I didn't have to catch them. I could step aside and let them go by, if I needed to. I caught most, but let some go by. Big, important ones. But looking back, none of it mattered that much, big, small, didn't really matter. What did matter was staying grounded, keeping my head over my feet.

I think it's awesome you're going to Mexico. I think it's great you're going to have strong lungs to breath deeply. And I'm mostly glad that you know to get your dog to the vet, that you have a vet, that you have a mom who helps, that you are such a good writer. Damn, you've got so much on your plate - but much of it is wonderful, enlightening stuff, transformative stuff.

You're in the middle of it, and it will color all you do. I became much more sensitive to really simple things - sometimes just being able to breathe, sometimes just being able to take that breath and scream it out at the top of my lungs.

In two months I fully expect to get some digital images on this blog of yours, of the incredible Mexican landscape.

You say you can't take it. So don't. Don't take what you can't right now. My dog died, and eight hours later my father died. You were one of the people who pointed out maybe the peacock who had taken up residence on my fence was there to escort my dog. You don't know how comforting that thought was for me. I couldn't take it, and your kind words allowed me to lay down the feelings for now, and pick them up at a later time when I could understand them.

I hope you have a "you" in your life, as you have been in mine.

All good thoughts and high hopes,

Mauigirl said...

Oh Bert, I'm so sorry everything is piling up like this. I have my fingers crossed that the dog will be OK. I know how hard this all is, because my own dog died unexpectedly of cancer only a couple of months after my father died. And I felt the same way, that I couldn't take it. Only time helps I guess. But Patty has a good point, there will be people to help you get through this, no matter what. So hang in there. Keep us posted, we're thinking of you.

I agree that it makes no sense to find out whether or not he has this slow bleed in his head. First of all, if it were that bad, he wouldn't be improving as he seems to be from your previous note. You'd think he would go into a coma or something. Second, even if he did, what is the point of knowing the answer if they can't treat it, or you wouldn't put him through treatment even if they could?

My husband's grandmother, who was in a similar situation to your dad's, had a slow intestinal bleed of some sort (she had blood in her stool and was anemic) and they wanted to do a colonoscopy on her. My husband's parents said absolutely not, why put her through something like that in her condition? She passed away about 2 days later.