A Week's Worth of Pills
Tiffany and I are moderately avid TV show buffs. At some point in the past few years, I decided I wasn't going to pay the cable guys extra for HBO and other premium channels. Give it to us all inclusive or don't give it at all. I mean, for like $60 a month, I'm not paying more. I WILL find something on the 1000 other boring channels to occupy our time. I'm not paying extra. Which sucks because I like many of the HBO programs very much. The sacrifices I make to prove a point to nobody but myself. The Sopranos, Season 1, Episode 2. It's around 9:45. My cell phone rings. Very unusual. It's my sister. Especially unusual given Zack's early bedtime.
I talk to my sister. My dad took a week's worth of pills. How'd that happen? Mom handed him the week's strip with Monday's lid open. He took the whole thing because he was "trying to be perfect since he had just made a mess in the bathroom."
He took 7 Depakote, 6 Ativan, 7 Zetia, 7 Namenda, and 7 Aricept. That's a lot of pills. Tiff and I rushed to get to the hospital. We arrived shortly after midnight. He was still in the ER and sound asleep. He had taken two cups of charcoal to absorb the remaining unmetabolized drugs in his digestive tract. We stayed with him until they admitted him to the hospital around 6. There's a bunch of intermediary stories to tell such as him waking up a couple times without much ado and falling back asleep and waking up later on and wondering what he was doing there. I suspect he feared that we had put him in a home, based on some of the things he was saying. Once we got to his room, he had to go to the bathroom. He started peeing in a container I held for him because they needed a urine sample. I was angry because here he is, unsure of where he is. Scared of it. Scared of what the fuck is going on. And he has to pee into a container. That I have to hold for him. Can't he just fucking do something he's comfortable with? And then he looks at me "Uh-oh Bud." What? "I have to go to the bathroom. I can't make it." So I lead him to the bathroom. Get his shorts unbuttoned and lift his hospital gown. Where's the nurse? Where's my mother?? Shit, I'm doing this all by myself? What the hell? I expected my mom to pop in at some point to see if everything was going smoothly. Nope. Just me. And my dad who was crapping the unformed charcoal out his ass and all over the toilet seat and bowl. Wiping his ass with his hands and black charcoal crap all over the place. For me to help him clean up. For him to freak out about what the fuck was coming out of his ass in the first place. I mean, jesus, who the hell knows what the hell that is coming out your ass that you've definitely never ever seen before but you know it's not normal... For fuck's sake, nobody cares enough to say "Hey, i know you won't remember this but your shit is going to look bizarre when it comes out." Or heaven forbid be there to tell him again as it happens. I hadn't even thought about this as a possibility until I saw it. And even then, I was too busy thinking about I don't want this shit on my hands to think it might freak him out to see pitch black powdery shit come out his ass. But I quickly amended my viewpoint. I quickly realized he was freaking out and said to myself. It's just shit. And it looks more like charcoal. Suck it up, he thinks he's dying.
So I helped him clean everything. His ass, his hands, his gown. Every place that had wound up with charcoal shit on it. Except the toilet seat. I wasn't touching that. Totally gross.. Caked up charcoal shit on it. No way. The hospital could deal with that. As long as he didn't look at it. Somehow his Depends wound up clean out of that entire ordeal so the nurse told him to put them back on. I got him back to his bed. Stayed with him a little while and then Tiff and I left. Tiff by the way is an amazing partner. She is so in tune with him and his needs. She was by his side every time he stirred to tell him it was going to be OK and most importantly to have a great big smile to give him the hope and faith to keep on going. And an understanding knowledge of what to say so as to say the right thing. She always knows the right thing to say to him, even in the most difficult of situations.
The next day other stuff happened. Tiff and I left for newport once my sister arrived and had control of the situation. The hospital released him early Wednesday morning after feeling good that his heart was no longer in danger.