Trauma Mama Drama

Is it really Saturday already?  Where did Friday go? Oh, I remember. It started Wednesday night when my mom called to say she had called the ambulance for my dad as he spiked a temperature and she couldn't move him. She told me to get a good night's rest and she would take care of it.

Thursday morning before work, I get a call from Mom that the diagnosis is gangrene in Dad's big toe, and they would probably amputate his toe and/or foot. That was gruesome, but my busy week at work continued and since I work next to the hospital I spent my lunch hour with Dad. His toe was exposed and pretty much took away any thought of eating. I went back after work and the surgeon was trying IV antibiotics and possibly install a shunt in his foot/leg to deliver them with surgery as a last resort. My mom asked if she could "catch" his infection and he replied it was now MRSA, which I'm telling you, really set my mom off. My knowledge of MRSA is pretty limited but I feel like there's different kinds, and you don't 'catch' it unless you rub an open sore into it.  Regardless, I did agree my dad's room and stuff he had been touching his foot to, should be washed up pretty good.

Fridays I don't generally work at my regular job, but I had about two hours of paperwork to finish so I did that and then stopped in to see Dad. He was in good spirits and the toe was now covered which made visiting easier. Then I headed to Mom's house to begin cleaning with hot water, bleach, and any other disinfectants we could find. There was a lot of bedding and clothes to wash, vacuuming, bathroom cleaning and surfaces to disinfect, but I really get into cleaning. We moved and flipped the bed, and what the heck, let's get at the piles of papers and crap on the desks, even though they could hardly be harboring MRSA. About 2:00 dad called the surgeon had read the CT scan and said his veins were clear, the bone was NOT infected and he would probably be getting out of the hospital sooner than later.

Last night I went back to the hospital and read aloud a chapter from "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and Dad helped me understand the vocabulary (what a mortar is in war and some of the Spanish words), themes, and setting. I was familiar with the term "cojones"  and we had a laugh over that.