When you least expect it...

As I write this, I'm sitting at the Italian joint on the F Concourse of the Minneapolis airport while I await my emergency turnaround flight to the big Damp Spot of the NW. I'll be back there at around 11pm.

I left this morning on my first business trip in ages - my father was still hospitalized, but appeared stable and on the mend. Got on a NW flight at Seatac, and headed east, destined for Memphis.

Aside from one ninny who seemed to feel it was his job to stand in the aisle and block folks at the rear of the plane from exiting prematurely or out of order, all appeared well. Right up till I landed in Memphis.

I had a message waiting f0r me - my father had a mild stroke while I was in flight, and while appearing perceptive, was no longer coherently verbal. Mom discovered this event when he "wasn't talking right" when she called him at the hospital this morning. On arrival, she discovered he could only swallow water (not food) and had lost verbal ability.

This is on top of Friday, when the day after surgery I had to speak with the nursing supervisor on the topic of negligence - given that dad was doing a gout/cellulitis/surgical walk, they'd dropped him on a medical floor rather'n surgical...and left my mom as primary caretaker rather than an RN. He was running a fever of 102.8, Mom was getting sprayed with urine from the urinal, he wasn't being fed, and was laying there moaning in pain...as a nurse hadn't been in between roughly 1100 and 1830hrs.

After my mother had words with the nurses on the scene (Lurch & Lil' Miss Older'n'God) about attentiveness, prior to my arrival - they actually paid attention. But...for how long would that go on? So I had a heart to heart with the nursing supervisor as soon as I was clear of the medical floor and of the risk of spreading negativity amidst the patients.

I was not amused. I am not returning amused. I am returning with thoughts of attorneys running through my mind, and struggling to recollect that a postal approach is unlikely to improve matters. I am not prepared to forgive either negligence or medical error - I am prepared to do my humble best to make a project of bringing retribution and misery unto the guilty.

My younger brother is/was out on the coast, and all was not well with the world, as my 79yo Mom was left to deal with this for herself.

While I try and suppress the drama queen, on this occasion it has burst forth from my soul, and I find myself launching mid-trip back to the Big Damp Spot, to my fathers bedside. While he has outlived the norm for his families men by a substantial portion, it still seems rather early to phone in a planetary departure.

Argh. I don't know that anyone deals with this terribly well - I certainly don't. Teary-eyed through an airport while attempting to maintain a semblance of calm for my mothers benefit, I got the news. Called a good friend who calmed me somewhat, volunteered to retrieve Mom from the Bigger City Hospital, and who will be picking me up when I arrive back at the Big Damp Spot around 11ish. My luggage, of course, is in Memphis...and won't make it back to Seattle for a couple of days. My boss, reached at home on her cell, was amazingly sympathetic.

More later. I am frazzled, angry, fearful, and stressed. I am accepting volunteers for "target o' my wrath", but I insist that they be *justifiable* targets for the bonus harvest they may well reap.