My dad is still in the hospital.  He is out of imminent danger thanks to a transfusion and a lot of medication.  But this experience is taking a toll on him physically and mentally. He gets confused very easily in this different environment.  He still can't walk yet and it'll be awhile before he can even go home.  The memory losses he goes through scares me.  He also gets depressed at the physical state he is in and being so helpless.  He depends on everyone for his well being.  If he needs to be changed, he has to wait until a nurse or attendant is available.  They moved him yesterday to another wing.  There are more people here that are "confused" and bed ridden.  It is a depressing place and I pull the curtains around dad's bed so he doesn't see everyone in his ward.

When I go home after spending a day at the hospital, I shower immediately. While the hot, soapy water washes away any germs, it doesn't wash away my guilt, insecurity and fear.  At the hospital, I am the patient and filial son.  We hold his hands and assure him when he cries.  He has these huge fears of abandonment.  He worries incessantly about the financial burden and the toll it has taken on us.  We tell him we will still be there.  We also tell him that we're trying to get personal care attendants too.  But I'm also the angry son who snaps back at my dad when he doesn't eat.  I have become cold and emotionless.  It's what I have to do to survive another day. 

I'll soon leave for the hospital for my shift.  My siblings and I still provide round the clock coverage.  I caught myself thinking that I'll get some sleep when this is over.  But that triggered another wave of guilt and sadness. 

I managed to create a backup blog on WordPress. I have no idea how to enable comments yet.  It looks like the future of Xanga will be a cliffhanger.  In case we don't get to Xanga 2.0, here's where you can find me:

 http://NocturnalTwins.wordpress.com/

I will see you soon. 

Finally, I want to thank all of you for the support, the kind words of encouragement, your prayers and keeping my dad in your thoughts.  It means a lot to me and I'm grateful to all of you.

Take care everyone.

It is hard to keep an elderly man hopeful and optimistic in a hospital.  My brother and sister continue our "shifts" so that there's always someone with dad and to answer any medical questions.  He finally sat up in a chair one day and shuffled 5 steps yesterday. It exhausted him completely.  He can't stand the hospital food so we have to always bring in food.  There's so much that can go wrong with a body when it is bedridden.  We cut his food up, feed him and wonder what will happen next.  The staff here are patient when they change him.  We sometimes help when they are short staffed as it needs two people. 

I'm starting to see the flow of routine in the hospital. I know which nurses are better and which attendants are more patient.  I can sense worry and tension with other visitors.  When someone is scared and frustrated, they mask it with angry and sharp words.  You have to see through that.  As much as I'm fascinated with the rhythm and the inner goings of a hospital, I have no desire to stay here longer than necessary.  I have no idea when dad will be released. 

When I picked up some take out food for dad late last night, the restaurant had about 5 tables.  1 large table filled with kids and adults all happy and celebrating loudly.  Another table of 4 had a very quiet birthday dinner.  The singing of Happy Birthday sounded like a whisper.  Another small table with twenty somethings eating quietly but animatedly.  Conversations flowed back and forth.  No one had a smartphone out.  4 young people then walked in, all in black. No one was smiling, they just wanted to quiet their hunger.  They were all twenty somethings and maybe it was their first time dealing with death. 

The manager called me and gave me my food along with best wishes for my dad.  I walked out into the night with a mixture questions, worries, fears and hope.

An update to my previous pulse...

It's just heartbreaking seeing dad in the hospital bed and crying out in pain.  While the pain is now manageable, he is still bedridden.  He finally started to eat some solid foods.  He has no idea why he is in the hospital and we have to slowly reorient him back to reality.  We have to do this daily.  There's always one of us with him.  I'm there during the daytime.  My brother leaves work early, gets our dinner and anything else we need and relieves me.  My sister comes in later at night and stays over.  She goes home, does some work and gets to sleep in the late afternoon.  My dad's grasp of reality is sometimes good and sometimes delusional.  He tried to pull out his IV one night and climb out of bed.  My sister and the night nurse stopped him. 

He forgets that we are there, forgets that he had tests, alternates between being angry to the staff and being meek.  Sometimes he'll wake up and has this look of utter panic until I walk over and hold his hands.  He is appalled & humiliated that people have to clean and change him.  He is too frail for a bedpan. 

We have no idea what happened to him but believe the problem was caused by a fall.  After being in bed for so many days, he'll have to slowly get his strength and balance back.  A social worker and others will recommend what we need for home.  I'm sure he'll need around the clock care.

This afternoon, my brother and I were talking outside his room while he was asleep.  If I'm outside the room, I usually check every couple of minutes and this time, I saw him trying to sit up.  He said he needed to get out of bed and start walking.  I explained he was still too weak and a physiotherapist is seeing him tomorrow.  He kept saying he wasn't an invalid and we shouldn't just abandon him like a discarded log.  I had to slowly explain what happened and why he was so tired today after 2 painful trips downstairs for testing.  After many minutes of assuring him that we want him to get well and we want him to come home, he felt a bit better. 

What's really odd is as I was talking to him, I suddenly had this feeling of my mom telling me "I told him that he needs to get out of bed." 

In a rare moment of candor, he said he thought he would be spending his remaining years quietly reading his books and enjoying the time at home.  He can't believe he is suffering in a hospital.  He's already told us that retirement homes and seniors homes are where people are dumped before they die.  While I try to stay positive, there are many moments when I fear he will not go home. 

It's always interesting going to a hospital.  This time, I was the patient, not my dad.  I took a cab to the hospital and went  Emergency.  It wasn't busy and I saw the triage nurse within 5 minutes.  He took the usual information down.  I explained the problem and the medication I needed.  He made a few notes and walked me into the emergency room right away.  It was the same thing the last time. 

Within minutes two nurses (one was a good looking Chinese guy), a doctor and a student came in.  One person hooked me up to monitor while another stuck an IV in me.  They explained what they needed to do and what to expect.  I nodded and told them I remembered how it was last time.  They gave me my meds through the IV line and pushed it through.  I spent the next hour or so under observation.  But I know there wasn't much they were really going to do.

So I spent the time pondering and observing.  I watched patients getting hauled in.  One person didn't speak English that well and came in by ambulance from a nursing home.  When the nurse tried to put an IV into him, he let loose a torrent of Italian swear words.  Another patient started to cough really bad.  A nurse came in to help clear a lot of mucus.  They closed the curtain so I couldn't really see.  But they all wore masks and gowns before entering.  In the bed right in front of me, a woman had what I overheard was a gallstone or kidney stone.  There were 2 women who must have stayed up all night with that patient.  They both had very rumpled dresses and tired eyes.

The brief bed rest was an opportunity again for life to tell me something.  You become aware of your mortality when you sit in a hospital bed.  I started wondering what I did with my bucket list.  I mean, this wasn't a life threatening incident and I wasn't close to death.  But it's still the emergency room. I wanted a note book to jot down my thoughts.  But there were just questions.  What's worse, I was stuck in the quiet section of the ER.  The elderly man was now sleeping.  The coughing guy was quiet.  Another woman who came in with her husband was resting.  Everyone was quiet.  It was too much for me to handle. 

This was almost 3 weeks ago.  It seems so far away now. 

Lost

Dreams I've had when I was younger

We were inseparable

Laughter, fun times, a good life, exploring the world and exploring myself

If found, please contact the author of this blog

Wow... what a storm!  My power came back about 30 minutes ago but my sister / dad and my brother are still down.  A lot of streets are flooded, subways and commuter trains aren't working in certain lines.   I hear sirens every few minutes.  Even though I have power, I can't even get to my dad's place because a lot of the streets are blocked / closed. 

http://livenews.thestar.com/Event/Severe_thunderstorms_in_Toronto

Dear Lord,

I know you're busy trying to heal the sick, eliminate poverty, stop wars and preventing humans from being the worst enemies to themselves.  Could you just squeeze in one more thing on your agenda?  If I could just ask you to get the crazy drivers off the road, I would be eternally grateful.  Yeah, I know I speed a bit here and there but for the most part, I am pretty careful.  But yesterday I drove behind the slowest BMW M3 driver in the world.  He almost succeeded in getting my blood pressure to a record high.  On the way home, I almost got clipped by a van.  The driver was on my left lane and I was in the middle lane.  But she was so nervous driving so close to the retaining wall that part of her van was in my lane.  When I honked at her, she decided to just dive into my lane instead.  Even F1 drivers have better road manners.  I honked loudly but refrain from saying any nasty words.  

So if you could just throw some lightning bolts on those crazy drivers, that would make me real happy. 

Finally, and I know I'm pushing my luck; if you could give the Xanga 2.0 fundraising a gentle nudge, that would be great.  A lot of folks would be happy.  You can even disregard my earlier plea about crazy drivers.  I'm willing to make a sacrifice.

Matt

#WeAreXanga

We’re just over the halfway point for donations in the Xanga Fundraising Campaign (link).  Yet, aside from a couple of posts from the Xanga Team, the level of communication is less than what I had expected.   I can only conclude that they are overwhelmed with the work before them and simply don’t have the cycles execute a coherent communication plan.  As with any corporation or organization going through a significant change, you need a solid change management plan which includes a communication plan. 

With less than 3 weeks to go, I hope the Xanga team really step up the communication. 
 1.  Take advantage of the Front Page.  Feature the Fundraising Campaign more prominently in the Front Page.
 2.  Send out mass message.  I'm not the first to suggest this.  Jose mentioned this the other day.
 3.  Change the login so that when people log in, they get a reminder about the Xanga fundraiser and the link to it. 
 4.  Move out the top blogs so that @Edlives, @RoadLessTaken, @Saintvi and anyone else who is actively helping get permanently featured there until we meet our goals.
 5.  Ask the community for help in executing your communication plan. 
 
Many members of our the community who have jumped in.  Joel (Edlives) has done a good job of describing Xanga 2.0 and how it will be radically different than we see today.  Alex has spent quite a bit of time hosting a radio show on www.blogtalkradio.com/roadlesstaken with Xangans (past and present).  One of my favorite bloggers (Chris) will be on this Thursday June 27th at 8:30PM EST.  Check Alex's blog for the schedule.  There’s been so many good ideas expressed on that show.  Saintvi has a fundraising campaign.  Many others have offered suggestions on fundraising and alternate pricing models. I hope Xanga is listening.

Despite my concerns about the need for more communication from the Xanga team, I still have faith in the next version of Xanga.  I’ve pledged some time ago and will stay to see what the future looks like.  I've gotten a lot of support from my subscribers both past and present.  I've grown and learned a lot here.  I started my Xanga simply as an online journal.  But it's more than a journal now.  I have no idea who will be here with me.  I know some of you are moving on and I'll find a way to stay in touch with you. For those of you who are still on the fence, I hope you’ll make a donation.

Pledge Here: https://xanga.crowdhoster.com/relaunch-xanga

#WeAreXanga

corrected tag for Alex / Roadlesstaken & Joel / Edlives

It's almost 4AM and I'm wide awake.  My sister phoned me at 2 AM.  Dad fell down and wasn't able to get up. She wasn't strong enough to lift him up and she called me.  I was out the door within 10 minutes.  I got him off the floor and into the bed.  He kept apologizing for getting me out.  I smiled and said it was fine. He wasn't in any pain.  But I told my sister to call me in the morning to see if he could get out of the bed.  I will have to check to see if there's any techniques he can use to get himself off the floor. 

I probably won't be able to get back to sleep so I'll just have to do with a couple of hours of sleep today.  So much for getting to bed early to catch up on my sleep. 
This probably the only time the streets outside my condo is quiet.  The traffic has quieted down. The people have gone home.  It's just me and my noisy thoughts. 

Maybe I'll read a bit.