Time slides away like a thief in the night that takes only little bits of your life at a time so you don’t realize it’s gone until at some point you notice that the shelves are empty and the cabinets bare, and you wonder where did it all go?
In my new role as caregiver, companion, driver, steady arm at the curb, source of common sense, and yes, ass wiper, this past 4 months has been a roller coaster ride like none before in my life. I wondered when coming “home” if I could cut the mustard in this unknown world. Can I do this?
My folks built the house at Canyon Lake in the late 70’s. A two story frame lake house on a slab foundation planted into the rocky hillside 400 yards above the water, the house has fared well. On the upper deck we sit in the treetops and the natural world is not overly invaded by our presence. I used to come here on weekends when in college in San Marcos just to pitch a tent and chop cedar, me and my dog Lyla. We are invested in this land.
So I came wandering home from the islands, unpacked my sea bag and a few boxes then headed to Costa Rica for a much needed hip replacement and two weeks of recovery. I returned to this house, where my parents spend 3 weekend days a week escaping from their ole folks home in town, with a new hip and five weeks to get fit enough to then spend the month of October sailing in the Grenadines. Rough job but somebody must step and do these things. For those five weeks I was totally focused on rehab and didn’t play much part in the caring for my parents…I was caring for myself. The point here is that it was November 1st after spending a month on the high seas and a full 3 months since my initial return that I was finally at the lake house for good….final….settle in and let’s see if we can make this work. But what is the “this” that we’re targeting…treading with not just a little trepidation?
When I arrived back in Texas my Dad seemed to be doing well, not much had changed since the last time we were together some six months prior. I had fleeting resentment that maybe I had been lured back too soon, perhaps I should consider going back and doing another season. He motivated around well though unsteadily at times, he dressed himself, fed himself and in general he was hanging right in there. Yes, his short term memory was fleeting and for the most part non existent. Long term memory was great and we had a number of wonderful reminiscences. I took him to see and ride in one of the few old B 17 bombers still operating and he had great stories for the many folks who came up and introduced themselves, thanking him for his service. He piloted 52 combat missions in the B-17 flying bombing runs over N. Africa, Greece, Italy and Germany….he holds the Distinguished Flying Cross and is truly a war hero. A great day it was.
On Saturday the 19th Dad went a short way down the hill to drop off some cardboard boxes at the burn site and, while walking back uphill, he slipped and fell face first into a large stone which smite him with the full force of gravity in the face and head. I heard his call from the wood shop where I was putzing around with ideas for handmade Christmas gifts. I new instantly that it was trouble. I found him on his side shaking like a leaf, blood was everywhere. He had literally planted his face into a rock where his blood was now puddled in the depressions. I got him up the hill, cleaned him up as best I could and we, mother and I, drove him to the ER at the New Braunfels hospital. They xrayed his neck, did a CT scan on his head, put three staples in his scalp, four stitches in his forehead and used some cool super glue to repair a chunk of flesh that his glasses had gouged out of his nose. He seemed coherent and cognizant of his surroundings aware that he had taken a bad fall.
Back at the house he complained about his sore neck alot and he had no energy to get out of bed or eat or even talk to anybody. On Thanksgiving morning with my mother gone to town I had my first experience with managing his bodily functions. He couldn’t get out of bed on his own and needed my assistance going to the bathroom, wiping him down and getting him dressed. You know, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had dreaded and in the end we both escaped with only minor embarrassment and prideful wounds. But it was painfully clear that this fall had taken the wind out of his sails and he had lost any self confidence he might still have had.
On Friday after turkey day I decided we needed to get him in to a walk-in clinic for evaluation of the increasing congestion in his chest and sinuses….I was worried about pneumonia. A chest xray indicated beginning pneumonia for which antibiotics were prescribed, but the doc there was concerned about Dad’s neck injury and so set up an appointment for a CT scan. Remember – at the ER in New Braunfels they only did an xray of his neck. So we got him a CT scan then, after five hours of med clinic and imaging clinic, we headed back up to the lake. Five minutes after we walked in the door the doc from the clinic was on the phone with news that, well, Dad has a broken neck! That’s right, his C-1 vertabrae has a lateral fracture of the transverse whatchacallit…that little wing that extends out from the vertabrae. “We’ll take him in in the morning” I said. “No you won’t” he replied and then directed me to call 911 immediately and have the EMS guys immobilize his neck and transport him to a hospital that has the capability to do a “spiral” CT scan which will yield more details than the regular one.
Wow, what a shock. So we did just that…two ambulances were here in no time at all and they said they would take him to University Hospital in San Antonio….they can do the spiral scan. Off we went. University is a county hospital and this was Friday night of a 4 day holiday weekend. Ugh! It was a zoo and the animals spoke spanish.
I won’t belabor the ER experience other than to say that at 0200 we realized that not much of anything was going to be done with Dad soon so we drove home to their duplex at the Army Residence Community (ARC) to grab some sleep. The doctors there have now determined that his neck is stable and the treatment will be six weeks in a collar for the vertabrae to mend. But the pneumonia needs eradication and he is so very weak and shaky that physical and occupational therapy is needed before he will be allowed to return to their cottage at the ARC. For two days he was flat on his back, breathing labored and almost no coherence when we visited.
Yesterday, after three days at this facility, when mother and I walked in to his room his brow was furrowed and he just looked at me and said…”sit down and talk to me.” He was feeling and acting much, much stronger but was totally and utterly disoriented and confused. He did not know where he was, had no recollection of when and how he got there. He remembers the fall and has some images of going to the hospital in New Braunfels, but he was thinking he was in that hospital still. “I’ve lost almost a week of my life and that’s kind of scary” he said. We went over the events of the last week many times and he still would furrow up and chew on his lower lip as he tried desparately to make the ends meet, to connect the dots. While his short term memory has been bad , nothing approaches this new loss. That being said, he was in good spirits, joking with the nurses and had a bit of the old glimmer in his eye. We left feeling so much better about everything.
When he leaves the hospital the current plan is that he will be in a bed in the ARC care wing and receive 1-2 hours of physical and occupational therapy per day until he has regained his strength and confidence enough to return to their cottage. I have now settled in and am feeling like I have a better understanding of what my new life here will entail in regards to helping out with my folks. I’ve survived this first trial by fire and am assured that yes, I can do this. I’m hoping that every day will not be so all encompassing so that I have time for personal pursuits but if not it will be ok, I can do this. I can!
thecoveyletter 