Member-only story
I Feel As Though I’ve Slept A Million Years And I’m Still Tired.
I wondered this morning if all the stress has pushed me into a relapse with my health.
I took Dad to the ER Monday morning. I woke up before 5 and he was up and dressed and wandering through the house. I asked him if he was okay. He said he didn’t feel well. I asked him what was wrong. He said he thought he was running a high fever and that his blood pressure was high. I asked him if he had checked; he said no. He was wobbling, so I told him to sit while I threw on some clothes.
Several hours and several tests later, the hospital kept coming up empty. Dad was being loud and cussing that he wanted to go home. The plan was to release him and have some outpatient tests ordered. We never got that far.
Tuesday morning, same song, different verse. I’m up to go to the bathroom and he’s up and wandering. This time his symptoms were worse. He couldn’t stand, he couldn’t walk, his speech was slurred. I coaxed him into lying down on his bed while I then snuck off to my room to call 911. The clincher for me was that his right eye was filled with blood.
The paramedics came and did an assessment. Naturally, Dad was mad that I had made the call and blah blah blah. I knew he’d be pissed, but I kept hearing mom say…
