A Taste of Convalescence

My phone rang this morning at 6:30. The last time my phone rang at 6:30 in the morning, was January 27th. I missed the phone, and then dreaded listening to the message. It was from my Dad, and I couldn't face it so I cruelly and selfishly put off calling him back for two hours. The message was cryptic at best. It cut off halfway through which left me even more confused and reticent.

Last weekend, my Dad broke his leg/ankle. After suffering for a few days, they put him in a cast and gave him some crutches. He decided, as stupid men are wont to do, rather than using his crutches properly, to instead hop around on his good leg. It wasn't long before his rather ample frame did damage to his other leg, thus making him completely immobile.

My father now sits at his local convalescence home. He has nurses who can now help him to and from the bathroom, and someone prepares his meals. He will remain there until he is able to recover enough to walk a little on his own.

I have suggested to my Dad that he come and live with me. I will cook his meals and clean his bedpans, if necessary. I will keep him company and take care of his dog. My father weighs twice as much as I do, and with no training, I will not be much help to him when it comes to mobility. That said, I think that it would be much better for him to not be in a home, and I think that that space would be much better used by someone more needy (presumably, my Dad is not putting anyone out, and should someone more in need come along, the space would be made available to them).

So, in a week that just keeps on getting more and more interesting, I may have now added caring for my father to my life. I willingly will do the best I can. I am always just so amazed at how quickly things can change and how there is always something new when you don't expect it.