Life with Father

I spent the last several days with my father in the hospital. He is eighty-six. He has always been an independent person, he believes in doing things for himself. He would not even consider assisted living. Dad was building shelving in the garage. His grandson's brother-in-law was assisting him, measuring the pieces that were needed, giving Dad the measurements. Dad was cutting a long narrow piece from a much more wider one about thirty inches long. He had about a quarter inch to go. He stopped and was going to get another piece to help shove it though to be safe. What made him change his mind neither he nor I will ever know. "I can do this without that safety stick," he thought and proceeded to go ahead, unassisted.

I got a call at the office from the sister to the young man helping my Dad, my daughter-in-law. "Grandpa is in Emergency; he cut his hand—badly." The words instantly snapped my mind to attention. "I think he lost some fingers," she continued. I didn't wait; I checked out of the office and drove to the hospital and asked about Dad. The nurse assigned to him called me aside, "Before I take you inside to see him," she said "you should know that he thinks your going to yell at him for being careless." How could I scold my father at a time like this? I found Dad lying on gurney in Room One; the name was very fitting. They were unable to help Dad at that hospital so he was transfer to Cleveland's top-rate Cleveland Clinic. There a doctor specializing in hand surgery reattached one finger to his left hand. Two were still missing. Dad was awake during the entire operation, holding his hand still so the doctor could stitch together with whatever was available. The word used was "viable."

Dad talked about going home the next day to resume his standard schedule. He was disappointed when he didn't. He has a pacemaker with a built in defribulator for when his heart rate drops too low. He lives by himself; he's eight-six. But he is determined; he has goals, he looking forward to getting out. He has more going for him than this "minor" set back will deter him. I'm proud of him, proud of his spunk, proud of his determination. I'm proud he's my father.

K.