My Dad seems to have taken a slight dive this past week. His memory has been more scrambled along with his coordination. We called the doctor to ask questions about this and his
meds and the doctor sent us to the VA emergency room. The doctors there decided to check him into the hospital - a decision they eventually and always do regret. In the hospital my sweet, mild manner Dad turns into a Mr Hyde. This morning I arrived early to find my Dad tied to his bed with restraints. I can tell you how not happy he was. We calmed him down and released him from his prison bed. After several hours I left to find a vending machine while the male nurse took him to the bathroom. I returned a few minutes later to find him tied into a chair.
(The story goes he took a swing at the nurse in the bathroom, escaped and ran pell mell down the hall with his hospital gown trailing in the breeze.) He accused the poor nurse of all sorts of things before he calmed down, took a short nap and woke very apologetic and contrite. After this the doctors previously unwilling to send him home until tomorrow decided to fast track the IV treatment so he could go home tonight.
(They can't say I didn't warn them!)I turned the father sitting over to my brother late afternoon. By six I had a call from my sister-in-law. I could hear my Dad yelling at the top of his lungs in the background. He was once again tied up after going ballistic over being asked to
take some medication. He was threatening to call the bishop, the stake president, church headquarters and the police in one fell swoop. He wanted everyone there jailed and excommunicated. He was sure the hospital stole his clothes and were poisoning him with pills. My brother said the normal 1 1/2 hour check out process was consdensed into 20 minutes. He had an entire personnel crew clipping off bracelets, taking out
the IV and heart monitors, filling out papers all at once. My brother then took him downstairs
(still yelling) out down to the parking lot where two police cars happened to be waiting. My father started to holler,
"Over here. Hey, over here. Help, help, I'm being kidnapped." He told the police that my brother was a liar, a character
(that part is true - the character part that is!) and to not believe anything he said. Even the cops looked a little shocked and were at a loss for words. There's more but you get the picture. My sister drove up and he leaped into her car like he had been saved from utter destruction and escaped from the jaws of heck itself.
I just dropped by my sister's house to deliver a new catheter bag and my Dad was sitting genteelly at the table eating ice cream. He burst into a broad smile, welcomed me, got up and dipped me ice cream and asked when we were going to work on temple cards again. He showed me the picture of his four children and told me how wonderful we all were. He said he'd had a great day in the temple and had gone to the VA hospital to check on his hearing aids and that it had taken a little longer than he had expected. :)
I believe the crux of Christian living is based in forgiveness. We obviously need the forgiveness of God individually and therefore why should we withhold it from each other? How beautiful it would be if we all approached others' foibles and sins the same way we would like the Savior to treat our own - with compassion. It is so easy to become critical of others as if we were omniscient in passing an all-knowing judgment on what they should do. We at times hold on to offenses for dear life. It's such a waste of happiness.
