"I'm beautiful right now!"

Dad really was not fooling around with the back thing.  He should never have had physical therapy on it:
"The Doctor (neurologist) is really mad at the orthopedist for signing me up for physical therapy."

Please see my previous entry - Dad WANTED PT...

Turns out his disc was ruptured and had to be removed (between #1 and #2).  The medical folks saw this on the MRI he got on Wednesday, called him in to the doc's office on Thursday (conveniently located at Bridgeport Hospital).  Neuro doc said he was staying there, to have surgery on Friday early afternoon.

Said surgery was done.  In the meantime, Mom needed to be "covered".  Thursday we managed, with my wonderful Aunt and Uncle stepping in (thank you again!).  My sister picked Mom up, brought her to the hospital.  I met them there after my gig at Housatonic CC was over.

Mom came back home with me:
"I'm so confused...where are we going...why do I live with you...where's your father...is he going to meet us later?"

Deep breath...answered all the questions...she asked them all again (in the same order), I answered them all again (in the same order).  We got home without incident, and I helped her get to bed.  We played the same question and answer game over and over.  It was a tie.

Fortunately, I was good for coverage on Friday.  I got her up, dressed, teeth brushed, we got her breakfast. Then the next level of Twilight Zone began.  Mom goes to our Senior Center two days a week.  They have a great program called CARES for those with dementia and other challenges.  The people get dropped off for 9 a.m., then have to be picked up between 2 and 2:15 p.m.

All Dad said to me on Thursday night, however, was:
"Just go in the drop off lane and she'll get out of the car and someone will pick her up."

Well, regular readers KNOW that Dad usually has things partway right.  It sort of works like that, but you have to stay there and wait for someone to come to the CAR.  I didn't get it right for the drop off part, but did for the pick up part.

I brought Mom into the foyer entryway because I didn't really know how to do the drop off.  When I opened the door for her, there were a few other older women sitting in there, and they all got up.  One said, "Nice of you to join us.  Are you here with us now?" to me...doododoodo...that was freaky, let me tell you.

They are wonderful folks to do what they do at CARES, and I want Mom to be there five days a week, so I'm working on that.

Back to Dad.  He was operated on Friday, all went well.  Rehab will likely be on the 9th at Bridgeport Hospital.  Dad is now like the Prince of the floor.  When I was there last night with Mom and my nephew, he got a call for his dinner menu, and ordered hummus.  We always have hummus in our fridge, but Dad won't even look at it.  Of course, I could NOT let that one float by.  "Dad, HUMMUS?  You don't eat hummus!!!"
Dad: "My nurse asked me to order it for her."  Making friends, all over Bridgeport Hospital.
Today, he had an X-Ray.  We have a friend who has worked at the hospital for over 25 years - and everyone knows this guy.  Dad asked his patient mover person if he knew "Johnny" - our friend.  Dad tells us this, says the patient mover guy was "a very nice tall big black guy who knows Johnny".  He then proceeds to tell us some additional gossip that is going around the place.

One of his Patient Care Techs came in while we were there tonight.  Prior to her "visit" to his room, he was a bit moany and whiney.  He introduced us to her, with a smile on his face, and we got up to leave.  She asked him how he was doing.  He said, "I'm beautiful right now!"

We slipped out the door.  I don't think he saw us leave.

So, if you are in the hospital over the next 2 weeks (at least that's what he told us today), be careful of the man on the Seventh floor...he may already know you are there!

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