Surfing

When Dad was first in the hospital, I was talking to one of the nurses about the difficulties in dealing with the ups and downs of his situation. I told her, "I guess we just need to learn to surf." (Bearing in mind that fear would keep me from actually surfing, my metaphor is limited to a landlubber's pop culture knowledge.) In my mind, surfing implies a lot of patience, more than a few wipe-outs, and every so often that perfect wave you ride for all it's worth. It's the perfect wave that makes the rest of the stuff worthwhile.

Christmas Eve was a wipe-out, yesterday was the perfect wave, and today...well, today is a patient day. When Mom and I went in to visit Dad today, it was clear that yesterday's work had exhausted him. The nurse said he wasn't responsive, but she hasn't taken care of him before, so she doesn't see what we see. He was aware and responsive, but clearly very tired and unable to sustain eye contact or to stay awake for very long. He did try to squeeze Mom's hand, though. (And we found out this evening that the physical therapist was able to get him up on the tilt board today!)

The main concern for today is getting Dad's blood pressure under control. It's been up and down and since last night it's been staying up in spite of medication. Please pray that it would come down, and that the pneumonia would dissipate.