Tributes

Last Sunday the town of Ruby did something special to honor their Doctor (who just happens to be my father). Daddy first came to them in October, 1963. He left a good job in the city, as the song goes...a very large city. He had been working at DC General Hospital in Washington and we lived in Falls Church, Virginia. My sister Holly had just graduated High School (Bishop DJ O'Connell a Catholic High School we both attended) and my parents had just sold the house we lived in to the State of Virginia. Where our house once stood, Route 66 was going through. Now, my Dad swears this is what happened. Knowing Mama, I have no doubt of it whatsoever. He says that after the house sell Mama called him at work and told him "Daddy is here with the truck, we're packing up and moving to Chesterfield. " Most men would not be quite so obliging as to pack in a career and move South on a whim...but to say he loved Mama is an understatement. He talked to the other Doctor's with whom he worked and they told him that if he had to go, then he had to but if he changed his mind his place would be available for him. We'd only been back in Chesterfield a week when the job offers started coming in. He had his first patient after having been a guest of my Grandparents for a day. He asked my Grandmother how this person had known he was there and that he was a Doctor. My grandmother replied, "this is Chesterfield, everyone knows everything about everyone." He was asked to work in Charleston, SC, he had an offer from Jefferson and my Uncle Gary (Douglas) persuaded him to take the town of Ruby up on their offer. The new Doctor they'd hired had backed out at the last minute and the new Clinic stood empty. This is how we arrived here all those years ago. When Daddy was taken suddenly ill a few weeks ago and had to have emergency surgery, so many people from the Town and outlying areas who had been his patients for so many years, became alarmed that this stalwart servant of the people was lying ill in hospital and only his family had known. Some of the patients became so upset that they called the Sheriff's Department to report him missing. Just as the door was about to be broken in someone called my brother on his cell phone and reported that there was a "mob" of cop cars parked in Daddy's yard and wanted to know if everything was okay. I in turn called the Sheriff's office to ask THEM what was going on. Okay, we got that cleared up and the Law left happily. Since he has treated most of them (or any who stopped in) for free for years, I'm sure they were glad to know that he was alright, too. After Daddy arrived home from the hospital my sister Toni told me that the town was planning a big "surprise" presentation for him at the Ruby Baptist Church. I thought about this for about a week and then I called Daddy and let the cat out of the bag. (Okay come on, you knew there'd be a cat in this somewhere). I didn't tell anyone I was spilling the beans, I didn't want anyone talking me out of it. I just decided that you didn't pull a surprise like that on a 95 year old man who never considered himself anything other than a Doctor doing his job...he didn't want thanks and couldn't figure out why they (the Town) wanted to do anything special like this for him. I called Toni and told her that he knew what was going on and she was so glad. So all his family (see photo and click to enlarge) and friends were there, there to tell him that they appreciated all he had done for them over the years and that they loved him. It was a beautiful event for an unassuming man. It made us all proud.

Update on The World's Worst Patient

I just wanted to let everyone know that Daddy is doing so much better that St. Toni of Columbia (who was in danger of being demoted to Simple Caregiver) , has taken the little bell that sat by our beloved father's bedside and thrown it out the front door where it rests for eternity in a drain pipe in front of her house. No longer sure that anyone is trying to kill him (unless he stays at St. Toni's for much longer) he is up and about and able to take a little broth. And a steak. Don't forget the baked potato...sour cream with that please. Salad? Who wants a stupid salad...where's the butter? Who hid the salt and pepper?

We love him. Mama spoiled him for any women but those in his family who are used to his demanding (yet somehow loving) ways. I hear the phone ringing. I'll let the machine get it. I'll listen to make sure that St. Toni is not on the line with information on when he may be expected to return to our loving care.

The Simple Caregiver assures me that the end of the week will see him back in the bosom of his family. I love him, you all know that I do. But who has the directions to the Airport?

How to reassure the practically Immortal they are not dead

In the following imagine that the ornery old man who is my father is speaking like Ricky Ricardo...I did tell you I was reared by Lucy and Ricky, right? Okay, so as you read, remember the accent. And that particular little whine that latins have when they are trying to get a point across...

Okay, it's been an exhausting week, and it's only Thursday. I can't imagine what my sister Toni is feeling...like death warmed over would be my guess. It all started Monday...I was giving the kitten (which we call Baby because he's not old enough to tell us his name yet) his 9 AM feeding when the phone rang. So I'm balancing kitten and milk filled syringe and a phone (of course the Baby takes umbrage at the audacity of anyone trying to interfere with the feeding he has anticipated for two hours and promptly pees on me.) It's my younger sister Toni and she's saying "well this is what's happening, I'm on my way down to Cheraw (she lives in Columbia which is not exactly just down the block) because Crystal (our cousin) has Daddy and is on the way to the hospital ER with him." I drew a blank for a minute and then I said WHAT? Toni wasn't sure exactly what was wrong but said our sister Holly had been down on Saturday and she had felt something just didn't seem right. Did I mention that our father is 92 years old? Did I mention that he is still extremely clear headed and healthy and practicing medicine? I didn't? Well, he is and he is. He has been practicing medicine in this county for about 45 years. He is never sick. He is the healthiest man I know, and we decided long ago that he would outlive us all. So I get everything here settled, tell Mac where I'm headed and get to the hospital pretty closely behind Toni. I go in search of my father and am taken to the cubicle where he is resting and find him, Toni and Crystal. He is in agony, terrible pain, he tells me . He announces to me immediately "Sandi, help me they're killing me". Doctor's are notorious for making absolutely awful patients. "Daddy, they're not killing you...what's wrong?" He tells me he doesn't know, but it's a terrible pain and he's been feeling not quite himself for about 2 weeks. We later find it's been more like 2 months, but we were in no position to know this. I've often heard that animals hide their illnesses and pain in a manner of self defense. I liken Daddy to the old War Horse who refuses to relinquish control of his gait to any young whippersnapper with his hands on the reins. So they give him pain medication, determine he has a bowel infection and prepare him to see the surgeon. Luckily the pain medication doesn't let that information about possible surgery through or he would have bolted. We're consoling him and answering health questions asked by Chuck, the Charge Nurse who asks "Doctor, when did you retire?" The three of us, (Toni, Crystal, me) turned to look at him as if he had lost his mind. Daddy looks at him as if he is just slightly soft in the head. "I am not retired, I still work everyday." Chuck looks at us and says "really?" as though this doddering old man can't possibly still be at the art of medicine. We all nod as one. Sudden respect from the young Charge Nurse who is now hoping to be half this healthy when he is in his nineties. Daddy is moaning in pain as Chuck begins asking questions. High blood pressure? no Heart disease? No Diabetes? No And on and on and he is in disbelief. "Look Chuck," I said, "except for the excruciating pain he's in right now, he's in better shape than we are, and probably in better shape than you are." The Surgeon eventually sees him, and he is scheduled for surgery at 7:30 AM the next morning. They put him on fluids and and antibiotics and he is settled in, and it's clear that the pain meds are not touching the depth of it. In between moans of agony he is introducing us as "my babies " to the nurses and doctors that are in and out. And we stand there around his bed, this group of old babies, to console him. He begs me to stand at the OR door and make sure they don't kill him. "Don't leave me Sandi," he pleads. I assure him I'm not going anywhere, and he is satisfied. He is pleased that Toni is staying for the duration and seems happy that we will protect him from any harm.
He announces to anyone who will listen that he is dying. We assure him he is not dying, that he's too ornery to die and try to get him calm. In between demanding to know why he didn't call us when he first noticed that he was sick and telling him that no one was trying to kill him my sister Toni (who I plan to nominate for Sainthood while the Pope is here) was on the phone notifying our brother and other sisters of the situation. Finally at about 4:30 PM the pain meds had seemed to be working a bit better when Toni's husband Tim called. Toni asked Daddy if he wanted to speak to Tim and of course he did. He took the phone and said "Tim, come here and get me they're trying to kill me". We refused him any telephone contact after that. Did I mention it was a rough week? Well, it certainly doesn't improve. The 7:30 surgery isn't done till after 1 pm the following day. I at least have the luxury of going to my home and getting some rest (seems poor health is an advantage after all) while Toni has become one of the walking wounded having had no sleep (or not much at any rate) trying to care for the Nominee (World's Worst Patient) 24/7. Sister Nikki arrives and tries to take over the duties Toni and I have been handling for two days and we swat her away like an annoying mosquito, relegating her to the bedside to hold his hand and let us Grownups handle this. She is twenty years younger than I am and ten years younger than Toni. We can be forgiven for treating her like the child she is. Toni and I give each other glances when Nikki tries to take over. She hasn't figured out that she can not win against the powerful front we become. Finally the surgery is over and Daddy is back in his room. When he opens his eyes and sees all of us, brother Michael has now joined the group, he asks quite innocently, 'I am alive? Not dead?" Michael once again consoles him with the now popular words of "no Daddy, you're not dead...you're to ornery to die." It's the dark humor of the Douglas Clan that gets us through. But in my heart I know that when the Angel of Death arrives, he's going to have his hands full...our father will not go gently into that good night.