we got a call this morning at 0900. it was the hospital. the doctor that admitted my dad to the hospital called to ask us a quesiton: was he, my dad, an alcoholic? they wanted to make sure that they weren't dealing with someone going through alcohol withdrawl. dad was very belligerent and thrashed around a lot last night. it sounds like he was cussing a lot, too. he wants to come home. so they have him in bed restraints.

we saw him this morning, but he was asleep, we didn't want to wake him up. my mom and i think he probably needs some good sleep because he hasn't had a good night's sleep since this all went down.

the biggest thing right now, it seems is this: he doesn't know where he is. today he thought he was in coney island on the subway train. he's not, he's in a hospital in beech grove. we talked to the nurse who was caring for him this evening and she said that he has been a model patient, happy, cooperative, and was eating.

my mom and i did something today that i have dreaded i'd have to do someday. we went and looked at rehabilitation centers that have long term care facilities, in short: nursing homes. we know that we can't take care of him that way he'll need to be taken care when he is first released from the hospital. i have to work and my mom just isn't strong enough to do it all by herself. and i'm pretty sure that i'd be a nervous wreck. we looked at three places today and we found two that we really liked.

we went to see my dad this evening; he was asleep, again, but he woke up and saw us. he knows who we are. he had to go to the bathroom so we got his nurse to help him. he wanted his book that we brought for him, part of me wonders if its not a "security blanket" issue for him right: having a book nearby. i don't know, i guess we'll see.

this is very hard. so very hard.

this evening we went to see my dad. he was watching the football game. he seemed to be in good spirits and was fairly lucid. we were able to have a good conversation with him, he was still a bit confused about somethings, but he seems to be on the mend, i guess. i think now, he just needs intellectual stimulation. the more he talks and thinks the better he seems to be. the cathator was taken out today, so i'm sure he is much more comfortable. he was able to lift himself into a better position in his bed using handle that hung from a bar above his bed. i think tomorrow they start physical therapy and occupational therapy. he has to get his strenght on his right side back. i felt much better after i left this evening than i did last night. his color was very good and his eyes were focused (i'm sure it helped we had brought his glasses). he's still not a hundred percent sure where he is, but i think he's gotten it a bit better than before.

the doctor said that they had found a bloodclot in his heart and they think that part of it might have broken off and moved to his brain and that is what caused the "stroke." he is on blood thinner right now, cummadin, to help with the blood clot. he had some chest pains this morning, but those went away.

he is in good spirits.

i don't know how describe my father's condition right now. he is alert. he is awake. he has movement in his arms and legs. the grip on his right hand is strong. he seems to have his gross motor skills, but his fine motor skills seem to be affected-- i think. also his memory seems to be addled, but i'm not sure if that is because of the incident, or because of everything that is going around him. he's very tired. we are trying to get him to relax, but he gets excited when we get there. he keeps trying to get out of bed (i sort of take that as a good sign) so the nurses have put a bed alarm on so they can keep track of him. he can stand, with help, so i take that as a good sign, too. there is going to be physical therapy involved, i'm sure, but i don't much more than that. its the weekend, so there aren't many doctors around, obviously its bad form to get sick on the weekend and need a doctor. the nurses don't know much because they aren't told much. dad can't really tell us what's happening because i either doesn't know, doesn't comprehend, or just doesn't understand, or maybe a combination of all three.

he is conversant, but muddled. he asks about things, but then forgets things, too. when he found out how cold it was going to be tomorrow, he stated: "well, i won't be going to church tomorrow. i can't go out in this kind of weather." he also worried that the heat was on at home for "the cats." he asked if emma missed him. i told both she and woody did. he smiled at that. he wants his glasses, but he hasn't asked for a book, yet. that's a little disconcerting. i may take a book tomorrow and see if he wants it. just to test. books are very important to him. i can't stress that enough. books are his life. seriously.

his heart is good. his vital signs are fine. he looks good, a slight lilt of the right side, but nothing too bad. he has decent color, he's eating, but he started to hack like he was going to throw up while he at. he ate, but i fed him. he wasn't too sure what the fork and spoon were for. he couldn't quite get them to work properly. i helped, i didn't mind.

i'm not going to lie. i've found myself, today, asking what will i do? i can't quite my job and stay home and take care of him, as much as i want to. i'm not going worry about that right now. when that bridge comes, i'll cross it. this when my faith comes into play. i have to believe that God will be with me, my mom, and my dad in the next few days and weeks. there will be a lot of adjustment to make.

so, he's doing well. considering. the journey continues.

Stroke. That's a word one never wants to hear. Its a bad word, a scary word. A word that brings consequences. A word that changes lives. That word was used today on my father. He has had, it is thought, a "small" stroke. I find that word "small" to be no consolation at all.

I got a call from my mom sometime this afternoon, I'm not really sure what time it was. I was at home, eating lunch. Maybe about 130, or so. She said that my dad was sick, he was vomiting in the car and he was listless. She wanted to come quickly, they were in the parking lot of Walmart. I hung up and ran to the car. There was no such thing as a stop sign. It took me about ten minutes to get there. She wouldn't call the ambulance. I got to Walmart and drove my parents' car to the hospital all the while asking my dad questions, trying to keep him awake. He answered them, somewhat. He vomited some more. I have a natural gag reflex when I'm any where near vomit. I had to do my best not to join him.

I got to the hospital and ran to the doors, went in, ran to the desk and told the attendent I needed help right away. My dad. In the car. Sick. Hurry. Two nurses came out. When they saw he had gotten sick on himself the went back and got gloves. One of the got a wheelchair. Another nurse came out. They had to work carefully and together to get him out of the car. One pulled while the other pushed. His right side seemed to be affected. They got him the ER.

He could talk, but not he was out of it. He didn't have much strength on his right side.

He improved, a bit. He can move his right side, he can smile, lift his arms, and push his feet. His speech seems to be a bit slurred.

They admitted him, of course, but there aren't any beds available. He will be spending the night in the ER as they wait for a bed. The nurse sent us home. There isn't anything we can do right now, but wait and pray at home.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Sets a Goal and Almost Gets Schnookered

Here's a goal of mine: to get through a month without getting an overdraft fee on my checking account. I think if I can do that, I'll be truly happy and content. For some reason, I go stupid when it comes to bankbook management. My ultimate goal is to have my financial world in some kind of nice neat package by the end of the year. I don't mean be out of debt, that's going to take a while, but I just want to have a handle on it. I checked my credit score the other day. It was better than I thought it was, but it's gotta get better, its in the high 600's.

I got a phishy email the other day, that is, I got an email from Bank of America telling me that my account had been blocked because of too many improper log ons. Funny thing is this: I haven't had a Bank of America account since last August. So, I called the Bank of America customer service line and told them about it. They told me it was a rogue email and to ignore it and to forward them the email. Here's the scary part, I almost fell for it. I actually started to fill in the information they asked for, I got cold feet when it came to the Social Security Number. It just felt wrong so I stopped and closed the email and then called Bank of America.

Sometimes its just too hard to keep track of everything. Why can't it be just a bit easier? I mean, really!

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Finds His Mellow

I enjoy the soft light of a candle burning. There is something very relaxing and comforting to it. The subtle smell of burned carbon from the match, lingers. Emma watches the flame dance from her perch above my computer. A little red dot is in each eye, as the flame reflects. Jazz flows softly from my cd player. My feet and legs hurt from an eight hours shift of bookpushing. I want sleep, but I'm too wound up. I don't have caffine in my system, its the retail, its tough to sleep after a full shift of retail. I yawn, that's a good sign. A couple more of those and I'll be giving high fives to the Sandman. My window is open, cool air flows through. No wind, not even a breeze. I relax a little more, unwind find some peace. My feet tingle and talk to my calves. My calves relay the message.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Gets Pimped by Herman Otten

I was leaving for work this afternoon. I was headed to the law library when my cell phone rang. It was Rev. Wookie, from New Jersey, a friend of mine from my "glorious time" at the, as I like to call it (for no particular reason) The Big House, in St. Louis. Its unusual for Rev. Wookie to call me, not unheard of, but a bit unusual. When he does call there is usually a good reason behind it. It more often than not has something to do with some idiocy that LCMS has done. So, when I answered the phone he said "Hey, Pnut, how's it feel be one of Herman Otten's favorite blogs?"

Naturally, I was a bit taken aback. I doubt very seriously that Herman Otten has ever read this blog and, if he has, I'm sure he probably didn't like what he read. What I assume is this: he found a blog roll of some sort of another, did some cuttin and pastin and published it in his little rag of a newspaper: the "Christian News."

Here's what House, M. Div has to say about Rev. Otten. I told my dad that I had gotten pimped by Otten's newspaper and he asked, in a somewhat concerned voice: "did he use your name?" No, just my blog name.

Now, I'm not tooting my horn because this blog was listed amongst others according to Rev. Wookie. I have to take his word for it because I haven't seen a copy of the Christian News since I left the seminary. Though, I do remember reading it when I was there because I needed something to chuckle over.

So, Lutheran bloggers, be quick! Find out if you, too, are a part of the Otten Faves. *chuckle* a dubious honor, for sure.