Surviving

Well, I think he is going to live. Taking a good spill on the loose gravel at the bottom of a snow field on Mauna Kea, Dad cut his right hand open in several places and strained the muscles in his left shoulder. Always fearing infections, he wanted to go to the hospital to be sure it was cleaned out. Of course we had washed it out with bottled water and bandaged him up. Nevertheless, I took him to Urgent Care in Hilo after dropping the Brazilains off. That took nearly two hours and we got home about 11 PM. I told him I wasn’t bringing him to Hawaii anymore. We always go to Urgent Care – last time it was because he cut his foot on rocks while swimming.
He had a reaction to the medicine – Ibuprofen and the antibiotic of Sulfur. (I know I am allergic too it.) I strongly suggested he quit taking both medicines on day one and I’ve tried to keep him hydrated. He was looking awfully like an old man – unshaven, shuffling around, sometimes too weak to keep his hands from shaking and feeling dizzy. Let’s just say after two days of living in the bathroom and sleeping, he is beginning to turn the corner.

Last night he wanted a Burger King Junior Whopper (after not eating much more than a bottle of Ensure). I went out and got him one, but drew the line when he wanted to put salt on it.

This morning he saw that the park at Captain Cooks Bay had a bathroom, so he wanted to go there. I saw this as a good sign. And he wanted chicken noodle soup for lunch. Another good sign. He ate the whole can and not once while eating did he have to shuffle off to the bathroom.