Mystery Meat

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Running errands all afternoon, I did not make it to the hospital till 5.30.  A quick peak into dad's room... and no dad!  Quickly found him eating dinner at the nurse's station... whew!  "I brought him up here to eat dinner with me," she told me.  A cute, blond nurse; I am sure dad didn't mind! 

I went to sit down beside him and he mentioned something about a Nanaimo bar.  A quick glance over his tray revealed all the dishes full, save for one empty side plate.  "Dad, did you eat your dessert first?"

Slight grin.

"Dad... you're meant to eat your meal first, then dessert."  Bossy boots here...

Stare.

"What have you got there."  I did a double take.  What DID he have there!?  Orange meatloaf pounded out flat and titled "Pork with BBQ sauce" on the menu.  If you think that description sounds gross... you weren't the one eating it.  What is the deal with hospital food?  Come on people!  These patients are sick.  Probably for most, their only pleasure in life is eating.  Do they have to take that away too!?  It is not hard to get food right!  I just do not get it.  Can't they run a hospital like a high end hotel?  People would feel better, sooner, get out of there quicker and ease our burdened medical system!  IMHO.  I digress.

"Come on dad, you've got to get some food into you, get stronger."  I pleaded.

Hrumpf.

"Well, take a few bites."  I managed to get three bites into him and then his mouth was shut tight.  I didn't  blame him.  It was pretty gross.  I have left some healthy snacks on his bedside table for this very reason.

I could not get over the difference in him today than yesterday.  He was so much more alert.  Asking me questions, wanting to go home.  Not understanding why he's still in there.  And why he can't go home.  (Um, cuz your house is empty and it's listed for sale!)  FYI... I have kept him abreast of all the details... but that silly short term memory - he just does not remember.  (For example... someone visited him yesterday afternoon.  The nuse told me, but he cannot for the life of him remember who it was.  So if we have forgotten to say thank you to some of you for visiting, it's not that we don't care, it's that we've, well... forgotten!)

All up... a good day.  But always, there in the back of my mind, is that risk of falling and breaking something.  Dad does not know why he just can't get up and go for a walk.  He thinks he is being kept in the wheelchair for something to do!  Legs are getting stronger though... he is pulling himself by foot down the hall in the wheelchair.  Determined he is... and wonders why his daughter is so pig-headed!?