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Firstly, it was Dad’s hemoglobin that was at 7, not his hematocrit. That’s … less alarming. It’s still not great, because that was under half of what it should be, but thanks to 3 units of whole blood, he’s around 11. He’s also got a heart monitor in case of tachycardia, and a big “SERIOUS FALL RISK” sign on his door. As you can imagine, all of this alarms me.
The colorectal and GI doctors are discussing tomorrow what to decide what to do (“Decide your fate” is what the Eastern European-sounding doctor said). The slow option is the one the last round of doctors went with, which was get him stable, send him home, and have his GI doctor do some sort of weekly injections to shrink and close the hemorrhoids. (I have no idea how that actually works.) The faster option is surgery, which, according to Dad relaying what he was told, is bloody and has a slow recovery. Personally, I want them to go for the surgery and get this taken care of, because the slow option isn’t working fast enough.
Oh, and did I mention he’s been on blood thinners for awhile? For good reasons, but they certainly aren’t helping with the current situation.
The lead nurse AND the chaplain* told Dad he had to talk to me about his wishes around heroic measures and DNR orders. ”Just in case”. None of his wishes were a surprise to me (we’d kinda talked about them the last time he was in the hospital), but now it’s all official and I have official power of attorney.
So hi, I’m nigh incoherent with stress. And repressing it like whoa, because I need to keep Dad’s spirits up. I’m staying at my step-sister’s for the next few days, because her place is a 5 minute ride to the hospital.
*Dad isn’t religious. He is at a Catholic hospital, so the chaplain wandered by. Dad told him that he wasn’t interested in G-D talk, but he was welcome to hang out. Apparently they spent a few hours swapping dirty jokes and tales of Catholic school.
The colorectal and GI doctors are discussing tomorrow what to decide what to do (“Decide your fate” is what the Eastern European-sounding doctor said). The slow option is the one the last round of doctors went with, which was get him stable, send him home, and have his GI doctor do some sort of weekly injections to shrink and close the hemorrhoids. (I have no idea how that actually works.) The faster option is surgery, which, according to Dad relaying what he was told, is bloody and has a slow recovery. Personally, I want them to go for the surgery and get this taken care of, because the slow option isn’t working fast enough.
Oh, and did I mention he’s been on blood thinners for awhile? For good reasons, but they certainly aren’t helping with the current situation.
The lead nurse AND the chaplain* told Dad he had to talk to me about his wishes around heroic measures and DNR orders. ”Just in case”. None of his wishes were a surprise to me (we’d kinda talked about them the last time he was in the hospital), but now it’s all official and I have official power of attorney.
So hi, I’m nigh incoherent with stress. And repressing it like whoa, because I need to keep Dad’s spirits up. I’m staying at my step-sister’s for the next few days, because her place is a 5 minute ride to the hospital.
*Dad isn’t religious. He is at a Catholic hospital, so the chaplain wandered by. Dad told him that he wasn’t interested in G-D talk, but he was welcome to hang out. Apparently they spent a few hours swapping dirty jokes and tales of Catholic school.