It only hurts when I laugh

Skipped a day without posting because not much happened....ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

(Warning: This post may make little or no sense because it will mirror the current state of my life.)

So, the other day, Dad fell again. Actually, he slipped on our hardwood floor while I was at the pharmacy picking up one of his medications. I pulled in the driveway and got a text from my daughter: "Grandpa fell. I helped Grandma get him up, but just so you know." I went barreling in the door and found him in his usual chair complaining that his arm hurt, but he was generally OK. Thank GOD my daughter was there to help.

To make a long story short, he fell on his shoulder and was bruised but not broken. I know this because the first thing he said in the morning was: "Wanna make a trip to the Emergency room?" Thus began my day. We didn't go to the Emergency Room because when I asked him how bad his pain was on a scale of 1 to 10, he said a 2. Turns out, he thinks 1 is the worst.

*Facepalm*

Instead of going to the Emergency Room, I called his doctor's office and asked for some guidance. This doctor has an Urgent Care as part of their office. Basically, they set it up so that existing patients can get in same day just like an Urgent Care but it's in the regular office. I set up an appointment and then a few minutes later his new primary care doc called. I had just been told that he wasn't on duty, so I was confused. But he called to check in, say he was sorry to hear that Dad had fallen and to reassure me that he'll check on the report after Dad has been seen by his colleague. Wow. I can't tell you how impressive this was. I'm so used to health care being cold and impersonal.

So, Dad and I spent about 3 hours in the doc's office, then getting x-rays, then going back to the doc's office. During this time, he was completely Mr. Sassy Pants. At one point, he looked down at his shoes and said something about needing to get a shoe shine because the suede part of his new shoes wasn't shiny enough. Oh and when the doc asked if his arm hurt, he said "only when I laugh." Jeez, Dad, answer the question. But the Doc got it and did a little back and forth with him. I love that these people understand old people and treat them with dignity and humor. Thank God we've found the right place.

After I got Dad home, settled and enjoying a lunch he proclaimed was the "best ever," I went upstairs and was doing something. Suddenly, I hear Mom shouting for me. I dropped my dental floss (look, SOMETHING in my life has to be good, it may as well be my teeth) and ran downstairs. Mom said: "Your father is outside." I look outside where he has walked out, left the door open, went down the stairs and is reaching in the mailbox. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. This is bad on so many levels: A) He walked out AGAIN. B) He went down the stairs AGAIN. C) He went looking for the mail which, as you know, we've been kind of keeping away from him. I tried to distract him while admonishing him. It kinda worked, but later, he shuffled up to me and mentioned that he hasn't gotten any mail in weeks. I said something about how there have only been bills and Hubby has been paying those with the online bill pay system (not a lie) and that we didn't want to worry him. I felt terrible for betraying his trust, even though it seriously is completely for his own good. If we let him open and rip up mail, we may have further insurance issues. Sigh.

Hubby arrived home and then he and I went to visit an Assisted Living option for Mom and Dad. We've been looking into this with the expectation that we hope to eventually give them back some independence but it has to be in a safe and VERY caring place. The place we visited was nice on the assisted living side. Small apartments that allow Mom and Dad to be together and yet still be safe and independent. Only 23 residents so it doesn't seem like a giant "facility."

Then we looked at the attached nursing home. The first thing I noticed was that it smelled like pee. I had told Hubby that there is no way in hell that I will put my parents in a place that smells like pee. It had a completely different vibe than the assisted living side and I didn't like it. In the car, on the way home, I burst into tears. Hubby agreed, completely understood and held my hand while I wiped my nose and sniffled. He promised that we'd find a place that would be better. We can't afford the Hilton, but we won't put them in Motel 6. Thank God.

We returned home after that depressing outing and Dad seemed really good. He asked if I'd take a walk with him to the fire station the next day. "Um, sure, I'd be honored," I responded. I have no idea why he chose that destination, but he seemed genuinely enthusiastic about it. Who knows if he'll remember it today.

I had a blessed evening of tennis last night where I escaped the stresses of home. I got back and Hubby told me that Dad fell down onto the floor TWICE and he was there to help him up. Such a mixed bag of feelings from hearing this - Thank God Hubby was home, we are right to search for assisted living, how is he declining so quickly and oh, crap. My mind is spinning.

I have no pithy way to end this. ________________ (Insert your own entertaining comment here.)