Granddad in Winter

Granddad was not too sure about Christmas.

It's hard for him to keep track of the months.

He  did have a few clues that it was a holiday.

(You know he loves hats any time.)

He had company,

and he always loves having company.

He amused the folks in his dining hall on New Year's Eve.

The horn was loud enough that even the hearing-challenged heard it.

But the next day, having dinner with his family all around the table, he had to head out for the ER.

He was in the hospital for seven days.

He doesn't remember this at all.

 It was worrying enough to bring far-flung family together to visit him.

He left the hospital to return to the nursing home in palliative care.

Declining, on oxygen, not eating, feeble...

we all sat and worried around his bed.

Yesterday I went to the nursing home as usual.

The nurse could hardly wait to tell me what Granddad had done.

I expected to hear that he'd maybe sat up in his wheelchair.

Well, yes, he did that.

And more.

He'd gone off with a group of nursing home residents to have lunch at the Golden Corral.

What?!

"I filled my belly," says the man who has been refusing food for three weeks.

That Granddad!  

Just like him to go from death's door to a steak dinner.

As his favorite hat says:

"I'm 95.

I'm allowed."

A day at the Hospital

It wasn't supposed to be a whole day. Simple outpatient procedure.  In at 11 am, out at 3 pm, that was the plan.

Granddad settled in to tell stories, flirt with the nurses, and in general enjoy the attention.

After the first four hours it got old.  

He wondered where the food was that he had ordered early on.

He napped in between alarms ringing.

His attendants tried to amuse him.

We looked at some medical  mysteries...

like, where's the salad?

And

 is this the newest thing?

Just before 4, they finally wheeled him away to have his batteries changed --

and by 8:30 pm the old Energizer Bunny was home and hopping.

Invisible fingers

As you walk into the hospital lobby you hear someone playing the piano.

There - see the piano:

See the player? No? Don't you think this is a little creepy?

In the Hospital Room

Granddad is feeling better. He has even gotten up to sit in his chair
and grabbed the camera to take a picture of me talking on the phone with Dr. HF! I am wearing the lovely yellow gown that his isolation room requires - please don't tell the nurses that I haven't put my gloves on yet!

Windows

I have been thinking about windows. And daylight.

Maybe it is because I am spending a lot of time inside a very large building, and so appreciating that building's windows. And maybe it is because the days have become so short and so the daylight seems more precious. The walkway from the garage to the hospital offers windows onto a little garden area outside the entrance.
Even cold and dreary the garden is a nice break from the massiveness of the building.
Light seems different when it falls on living things.
The hospital spreads out on both sides of the walkway.
I climb up to the third floor and look out the waiting room window towards Granddad's room.
His window is the fourth one down.

Here is the morning view from his window, looking back towards the parking garage.
Light comes in all day, and even when the sky becomes overcast the light is still reassuring.

We stay connected to the weather and the world outside.

Some rooms have their blinds closed all day, or don't have windows.

I think getting well would be harder in those rooms.

And it may be harder in winter in general.

I think we are like the plants in the little garden. We all need daylight to thrive.
We need those windows.

Sitting in the Hospital

Long hours sitting in the hospital with Granddad are ameliorated with flowers and music.

Seasonal decor and seasonal songs may actually push me over into accepting that December has come.

I am so grateful for those who provided these grace notes to a gloomy day!