Just got off the phone with my youngest brother (the calm one) who is very agitated about this whole trip to the beach. He talked to my mom this morning and found out my dad had a really bad day yesterday (fever, extremely low blood pressure at dialysis, shaking, wheezing). Then he talked to my other brother (who picked up my dad from dialysis last night) who thinks Dad might have pneumonia. The two of them want to meet with me tonight, decide a plan of action, and then go over to our parents' house as a united front. Somehow I don't think I'm going to be leaving for the beach tomorrow.
Update: Apparently my dad's cardiologist got wind of the trip and called to tell them he thought traveling now would be a very bad thing. He's trying to get my dad in to see the cardiac surgeon at Hopkins ASAP. So we're bagging the trip (well, Dan told me to wait to cancel my kayak/beach wheelchair rentals until this evening after they've heard whether or not they'll be meeting with the surgeon sometime soon).
Another Update: My brother Dan just called--he and my mom are taking my dad over to the ER. Apparently Dad has become very, very weak. Just cancelled the rentals, the hotel reservations, and the petsitter. Keep us in your thoughts.
So, just today, we've finally received some conclusive word on why my father is filling with fluid: the replacement bovine mitral valve that was put in five years ago is not working properly (I'm going to try to focus on being grateful that we finally have an answer and suppress the overwhelming rage I'm feeling right now that it has taken months to check on what seems like an obvious suspect).
Still, it's good news after what has been a few very rough past weeks. Well, kinda good news. It means major heart surgery, which my father is eager to do. Not that I blame him. I stayed over last weekend (I've spent most of my weekends down at their house, trying to help out though I end up feeling a bit helpless that all I can do is empty the dishwasher, get the paper, and help him get in and out of the car and chair) and he's so filled with fluid that he looks a bit like Martin Short's Jiminy Glick character. But I have my reservations.
I also have reservations about our upcoming trip to the Outer Banks. We (my mom, dad, and I) are leaving Friday and driving down to Newport News, staying the night, and continuing on to Nags Head. My mom is the only one who can drive, which makes me nervous (and yes, people, I've put in motion efforts to get my license but that's going to take a little while) but she assures me she feels up to it. And she rejected my suggestion that we fly to Norfolk, rent a car, and drive (a 2-hour drive as opposed to a 4-hour drive to NN, and then a 3-hour drive to Nags Head the next day).
However, if we can pull this off, it'll really raise his spirits. My brother Dan and his family are coming down for the first week and then Colin and Karen are coming for the second. So the whole family will be around, which will be a big help and a comfort to him and to my mom (who is exhausted and emotionally wrung out. Well, they both are). I've rented a beach wheelchair for him and a kayak for myself so he'll be able to sit on the beach and laugh at me when I inevitably wipe out while trying to surf the waves (and I suspect I'll be roped into getting into the kayak and carrying his lure beyond the surf break so he can fish).
I'm crossing my fingers this all works out without any trips to the OBX ER.
