Morphine

[vaneramos]

Dad still has not heard from the surgeon, who flies today to Peru for two weeks. This morning the registered nurse speculated to Dad: when he went into the OR Wednesday evening, the surgeon probably decided it was unnecessary to open him up again. They probably just cleaned the incision some more and stitched it up again. That's fine, but it is disturbing that no one at the hospital knows what happened or why.

Dad spent the subsequent 30 hours on a morphine pump. I've been on one myself, and could see it affecting his outlook, making him subtly listless and pessimistic. It is the best way to control post-operative pain, but not a good thing to do unnecessarily to an active human being who has spent 10 frustrating days in hospital because of an infection.

Yesterday we helped the day nurse take Dad for a short stroll across the floor. He looked so feeble. He didn't want to go, but once on his feet he started to move. She treated him like a feeble 75-year-old, saying, "We don't have to go far. We can stop for a rest whenever you need to." She needed a paradigm shift. I told her this was a man who liked to swim across the lake and back last summer.

She stopped pampering him.

Today the nurses removed the morphine drip and switched to Tylenol, so at least that is over. This morning over the phone Dad sounded more positive. The registered nurse has been challenging him to cough up a little fluid she can hear in his lungs. Yesterday this annoyed him (it's painful to do), but today he has accepted it as the next most important step toward going home.

I'm in Guelph, and Danny is coming for a much needed visit this weekend.