There was a time when a bad day at work would make me buy yarn.
There was a time when having to deal with my husband's bitter ex wife would make me buy yarn.
There was a time when just being bored would make me buy yarn.
My father was hospitalized with a staph infection on August 26. August 28 they transfered him here to Boise, and that's when we found out how very serious it was. Luckily, my mother was able to stay here with us, because it's been a long, scary emotional-roller coaster since then. September 14, the neurologist told us that he wanted to keep Dad in the hospital a few more days, but September 15, Blue Cross (a big insurance giant that cares nothing about people) booted Dad out and into a care center (refusing to pay for the one the doctor wanted). So out he went, and it took almost a week--and a very fierce case worker--to get the care center to put in the trapeze above the bed that he was supposed to have since his back had suffered from 2 spinal abscesses and then surgery to drain the things, and I spent several days running down everyone I could find just to get the refrigerator that was supposed to be in each room. This is the point where I bought yarn. I may not have total resistance yet, but at least I need to get to crushing, so-stressed-I-have-thrashed-my-back stress and anger before sliding off the sheep. At least some of the new yarn is for more chemo caps--the outlook is still good for my father, but a second cousin of mine is right now facing losing his very lovely mother to cancer and there isn't any hope for them.
I didn't post yesterday because I was just a wreck. Friday Dad developed a fever again and was throwing up, and that's how this whole nightmare started a month ago. So, we called the doctor, and the care center took him to the ER, where we spent Friday night. The hospital has been really great--the neurologist overseeing this case had already called ahead, so they knew what they were dealing with. They did tests I had never even heard of, did an MRI which showed that the remaining pockets of staph infection had shrunk since the last MRI (right before Blue Cross tossed him out of the hospital), said they wanted to monitor him, so they admitted him and we finally got home at 1:30 AM, while my mom got back at 3:00 AM. We were all in pretty bad shape Saturday, but they said the new infection was a urinary tract infection, and they'd set him up with a new antibiotic. We had not been able to figure out how he could get a new infection while on such strong antibiotics, and so we were frightened that something had gone wrong with the medications at the new place or the staph had somehow grown, or my worry was flu, which would be dangerous in his state (having lost 20 pounds in a month and with a raging infection). UTIs require different antibiotics, hurt like the devil, but are pretty common, so we were feeling good about that. Yesterday when Dad called he said they had told him that they had found bacteria in his blood, but it had already improved since he was admitted Friday. Mom went to spend the day with him at the hospital, and I became a big, stressed weepy mess. I realize it's already under control, but blood poisoning is what we thought this whole nightmare was to begin with, and I already knew it was very dangerous, and after 4 weeks of nonstop worry and stress, I was just scared, frazzled and worn out.
Mom went home last night to get warmer clothes and get some stuff done, so I'll be at the hospital today. The first two weeks of this we were both there most days, but we've found out over the course of this nightmare that we need to pace ourselves, so now we alternate. Dad will have to be on these antibiotics until at least October 9, and they have to be given under the 24-hour supervision of a doctor, so that's why Dad had to be moved to a care/rehab facility. He hates the place, of course, because everyone is about 20 years older than him because the rehab wing is mostly empty but the assisted living one is filled, but Dad gets lots and lots of visitors and we get him outside most days. Thank heavens he's a strong, active guy who is still actively cattle ranching--if he hadn't stayed strong and active, he wouldn't have survived all this. I am going to keep that in mind every time I curse the gym.................