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Tuesday evening, I bid my parents goodnight, and went to bed.
I woke up Wednesday morning at 3:00 AM. It was just starting to rain. I went to work at my usual time, and came home around 9:00 AM. I thought I'd just missed my mom, which happens every day, since she's out the door by 8:30 AM. I did find it odd that the newspaper was still sitting inside the front door, where she'd have left it. My dad is usually up by then, reading the newspaper in the kitchen.
It barely crossed my mind at the time. I took a shower, caught up on my mail, got dressed, got my bag packed, and prepared to head out to school. But it was raining hard at this point, and the car (van) I drive is a rust bucket (albeit, free for me to drive) and stalls out frequently in the rain. Since I drive down a six lane highway on my way to school (Rt. 50 through Olde Towne Fairfax) I thought it best I ask my dad if I could take his car.
He was still in bed. Okay, I thought, he was probably up playing Diablo II until just before I got up. There's a reason for him to be tired.
When I tried to talk to him, he just looked at me blankly and didn't speak. Okay, I thought, he's probably caught a bug that's taken out his voice for the time-being. He was acting a little strange, but he covered himself when I walked to his door (he was wearing a shirt and underwear) and since my mom usually wakes up with him, I thought she would have already known what was wrong with him. I thought the whole situation odd, so at 11:00 AM, I called her at work. Her answering machine stated she was in the office, but not around at the moment. I left a message to call me back. She'd get it soon.
I was a little concerned, so I went to check back up on my dad. He was still acting strange, but nothing registered as being too out of the ordinary. I asked if there was anything I could do for him, if he was okay, if he needed to go to the hospital, if he needed be to call an ambulance. To the best of my knowledge at the time, he answered negatively to each.
At 11:10 AM, I left a second message on my moms answering machine at work, this one a little more frantic. Something was weird, but she must already have dealt with it before she left for work, and I was running late for school, so she might want to come home during lunch and check up on him.
I ended up taking the van to school. It didn't stall.
My day at school was okay. It was raining hard all afternoon, I ended up with a parking space fairly far away, and was wet during class. I left school sometime around 4:30 PM, and with a few errands on the way home, arrived around 5:15 PM. When I walked in the door, the newspaper was in the same spot as when I left, and there were no messages on our answering machine. I proceeded to shove food in my face, and go about my business.
A short time later, my mom called. She'd gotten up at 7:00 for work and been at meetings all day. She had just heard my messages.
Shit.
At her prompting, I ran upstairs and checked on my dad. He wasn't laying in his bed, he was half-naked, collapsed on the floor, curled in the fetal position, and anxiously stroking the carpet with his free left hand. His stare was mostly blank, and he could not respond to anything I said. Words were exchanged, she left immediately, and a short time later, an ambulance was called.
The 911 operator was helpful and reassuring, and within a few minutes an ambulance and fire truck pulled up in front of our house. As a funny aside, we live in a big loop of a neighborhood, and they ended up taking the long way around the loop. So much for maps!
I was outside waiting for them, and ushered them inside and to my parents bedroom. There were quite a few of them, probably six to eight. My mother and I sat and watched as they cut off his shirt and started taking his vital signs. Blood sugar was normal, blood pressure was within safe bounds. But he couldn't move, speak, or understand.
My father had suffered a massive stroke.
At 53 years old, and in pretty great shape. Sometime Tuesday evening, something got stuck in his brain.
The paramedics wrapped up, loaded him up on a stretcher, and took him to the ambulance. After a delay, they rode to the hospital cold, while my mother and I followed.
We spent the night in the emergency room next to my father, who couldn't even recognize us, and could barely keep his eyes open. Our only break was when I took my mom out to eat at IHOP (her choice) since she hadn't had anything to eat all day. We ended up at home around 11:30, after calling a ton of people from the hospital.
Needless to say, I had things more important than work to do the next day, and I sure as hell wasn't going in on three hours of sleep. It was when I called in that I realized how much it sucks to be a teenager - the response to "I've had a major family emergency, I can't make it in today" was "Well, will you be in tomorrow?"
I was so glad they cared so much.
I spent most of Thursday, save for a three hour break to go to school, at the hospital with my mom.
He has a little bit of understanding in his eyes, and it's possible he recognized my mother and me. He can respond to commands from the doctors. He has some control over his right side. Some. It's mostly useless.
He has Broca's aphasia due to the swelling, and may never speak again. Only time will tell what parts of himself he regains. Even the most optimistic opinion is that he'll never be his former self.
I don't like my dad, and we haven't ever gotten along with one another. But what's happened is something I would never wish on anyone.
And there's nothing we can do. There's no treatment for strokes, outside of time for the body to recover. We just sit and let him know we're there.
I'm now the man of the house. I've never shopped for groceries before, but I'm going to have to start. I'm going to have to start dealing with the cars, and home improvement projects, and clipping coupons, and cleaning, and the rest of the things my mom can't do working 50 hour weeks. That's a lot of responsibility for me. I'm only 18.
My diet has been shot to shit. I had a pretty specific bulking diet planned out, and now I can't even remember to take my flax oil. I'm eating whatever I have around, lots of sugary crap, and a ton of carbs.
And this is just the beginning. The best case scenario is that we have to sell our house and move, since insurance won't pay for long-term care and physical therapy. If you've know anything about of have dealt with medicaid, you know the severity of the worst case scenario. It's not pleasant to think about.
I seriously don't know what to do. I have no one to talk to, and nowhere to go.
As soon as I'm done typing this, I'm heading back to the hospital to check on my mom, and see my dad. He was having an MRI done when I went this morning.
Goodbye, all.
I woke up Wednesday morning at 3:00 AM. It was just starting to rain. I went to work at my usual time, and came home around 9:00 AM. I thought I'd just missed my mom, which happens every day, since she's out the door by 8:30 AM. I did find it odd that the newspaper was still sitting inside the front door, where she'd have left it. My dad is usually up by then, reading the newspaper in the kitchen.
It barely crossed my mind at the time. I took a shower, caught up on my mail, got dressed, got my bag packed, and prepared to head out to school. But it was raining hard at this point, and the car (van) I drive is a rust bucket (albeit, free for me to drive) and stalls out frequently in the rain. Since I drive down a six lane highway on my way to school (Rt. 50 through Olde Towne Fairfax) I thought it best I ask my dad if I could take his car.
He was still in bed. Okay, I thought, he was probably up playing Diablo II until just before I got up. There's a reason for him to be tired.
When I tried to talk to him, he just looked at me blankly and didn't speak. Okay, I thought, he's probably caught a bug that's taken out his voice for the time-being. He was acting a little strange, but he covered himself when I walked to his door (he was wearing a shirt and underwear) and since my mom usually wakes up with him, I thought she would have already known what was wrong with him. I thought the whole situation odd, so at 11:00 AM, I called her at work. Her answering machine stated she was in the office, but not around at the moment. I left a message to call me back. She'd get it soon.
I was a little concerned, so I went to check back up on my dad. He was still acting strange, but nothing registered as being too out of the ordinary. I asked if there was anything I could do for him, if he was okay, if he needed to go to the hospital, if he needed be to call an ambulance. To the best of my knowledge at the time, he answered negatively to each.
At 11:10 AM, I left a second message on my moms answering machine at work, this one a little more frantic. Something was weird, but she must already have dealt with it before she left for work, and I was running late for school, so she might want to come home during lunch and check up on him.
I ended up taking the van to school. It didn't stall.
My day at school was okay. It was raining hard all afternoon, I ended up with a parking space fairly far away, and was wet during class. I left school sometime around 4:30 PM, and with a few errands on the way home, arrived around 5:15 PM. When I walked in the door, the newspaper was in the same spot as when I left, and there were no messages on our answering machine. I proceeded to shove food in my face, and go about my business.
A short time later, my mom called. She'd gotten up at 7:00 for work and been at meetings all day. She had just heard my messages.
Shit.
At her prompting, I ran upstairs and checked on my dad. He wasn't laying in his bed, he was half-naked, collapsed on the floor, curled in the fetal position, and anxiously stroking the carpet with his free left hand. His stare was mostly blank, and he could not respond to anything I said. Words were exchanged, she left immediately, and a short time later, an ambulance was called.
The 911 operator was helpful and reassuring, and within a few minutes an ambulance and fire truck pulled up in front of our house. As a funny aside, we live in a big loop of a neighborhood, and they ended up taking the long way around the loop. So much for maps!
I was outside waiting for them, and ushered them inside and to my parents bedroom. There were quite a few of them, probably six to eight. My mother and I sat and watched as they cut off his shirt and started taking his vital signs. Blood sugar was normal, blood pressure was within safe bounds. But he couldn't move, speak, or understand.
My father had suffered a massive stroke.
At 53 years old, and in pretty great shape. Sometime Tuesday evening, something got stuck in his brain.
The paramedics wrapped up, loaded him up on a stretcher, and took him to the ambulance. After a delay, they rode to the hospital cold, while my mother and I followed.
We spent the night in the emergency room next to my father, who couldn't even recognize us, and could barely keep his eyes open. Our only break was when I took my mom out to eat at IHOP (her choice) since she hadn't had anything to eat all day. We ended up at home around 11:30, after calling a ton of people from the hospital.
Needless to say, I had things more important than work to do the next day, and I sure as hell wasn't going in on three hours of sleep. It was when I called in that I realized how much it sucks to be a teenager - the response to "I've had a major family emergency, I can't make it in today" was "Well, will you be in tomorrow?"
I was so glad they cared so much.
I spent most of Thursday, save for a three hour break to go to school, at the hospital with my mom.
He has a little bit of understanding in his eyes, and it's possible he recognized my mother and me. He can respond to commands from the doctors. He has some control over his right side. Some. It's mostly useless.
He has Broca's aphasia due to the swelling, and may never speak again. Only time will tell what parts of himself he regains. Even the most optimistic opinion is that he'll never be his former self.
I don't like my dad, and we haven't ever gotten along with one another. But what's happened is something I would never wish on anyone.
And there's nothing we can do. There's no treatment for strokes, outside of time for the body to recover. We just sit and let him know we're there.
I'm now the man of the house. I've never shopped for groceries before, but I'm going to have to start. I'm going to have to start dealing with the cars, and home improvement projects, and clipping coupons, and cleaning, and the rest of the things my mom can't do working 50 hour weeks. That's a lot of responsibility for me. I'm only 18.
My diet has been shot to shit. I had a pretty specific bulking diet planned out, and now I can't even remember to take my flax oil. I'm eating whatever I have around, lots of sugary crap, and a ton of carbs.
And this is just the beginning. The best case scenario is that we have to sell our house and move, since insurance won't pay for long-term care and physical therapy. If you've know anything about of have dealt with medicaid, you know the severity of the worst case scenario. It's not pleasant to think about.
I seriously don't know what to do. I have no one to talk to, and nowhere to go.
As soon as I'm done typing this, I'm heading back to the hospital to check on my mom, and see my dad. He was having an MRI done when I went this morning.
Goodbye, all.
Keep strong! Prayers go out to you and your family.
