What a Day

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Went to the hospital again today. I know, I havent really kept any of you informed about my... plight with my parents, but suffice to say, it has been a battle.

I am a carer for both of them. They are both elderly and have major phsyical disabilities and, until recently I have been focused more on myself and my rather annoying (and emo) battle with bi-polar disorder.

About a year ago, my dad hurt his foot which caught an infection. Being a diabetic, this didnt heal very well and his feet began to swell to the point where he had serious trouble walking. We got him a scooter, adjusted our lives a lot for him and made some sacrifices because, as it was explained to us, being a diabetic, the healing process for him would be a lot longer than average.

Up until four days ago, his foot had been swollen, red with a minor sore on his heel. We had nagged him to keep his feet elevated and we redressed the sore every other day. It had gotten to the point where he needed a nurse to visit every other day to keep a watch on it. It was taking too long to heal.

Yesterday, the nurse visited to check his foot and. . . she nearly fainted. The small sore had turned into a giant black mass and had spread up the side of his heel - within a day.

She explained to us that it had that part of his foot was seriously infected, that his flesh was necrotic and that he had to go to hospital right away.

We took him to hospital, explained the situation to them and they told us that, as he had a general health check at another hospital tomorrow (today) the best they could do is redress the wound and send him home - which they did.

Come 2pm this afternoon, we took him for his general health check - and guess where the doctors sent us as soon as they saw his foot!

BINGO! The emergency center!

They could not believe that he had been sent home with the bottom part of his foot rotting. When we got to the emergency center, they also could not believe it and they admitted him immediately for treatment!

I dont usually bang our national health service, I admire it a lot and know for a fact that if we had a privatized system like america, we'd be screwed! But this was an appalling let down for us.

The doctors explained to us that if the very strong anti-biotic's dont work, that if they cannot surgically remove the infection from the wound, it will turn gangrenous - if that happens, he will have to have his foot removed. If he does not, he will get septicemia and die.

The doctor's follying around with him yesterday have cost him an entire days worth of treatment.

The nurse that came to dress his wound is furious. She cannot understand why there is a fast-track service if they wouldnt admit them to hospital without question (For my american readers, a nurse's fast track service allows the patient to be admitted to hospital for treatment without initial evaluation - basicly, they dont test them to see whats wrong, they take the nurses word for it)

The doctors from the general health center are furious with him, they cannot understand why a patient with obvious signs of necrosis wasnt admitted and treated immediately.

We're furious at him for not taking our advice to take better care of himself. For not keeping his foot elevated. For not helping himself. For just sitting there with the hope and self-understanding that it will, eventually, get better.

Im also incredibly sad for him. My father - my dad - is in his 70's now. He has been married for 50 years and they have never slept in a separate bed. Now they're in two different parts of the country.

We had to leave him because visiting time was over - and I was releived because his foot was in such a terrible state - but he looked so lost. He has had the same daily routeine for 20 years and not once did he ever complain about the monotomy of it - but now he just looks... he looked like the little boy I see in his baby pictures. He looks so scared.

My heart is both furious with him and breaking for him at the same time.

My mother is pretending she will enjoy the uninterrupted sleep and the peace of him not being around (as they argue like cat and dog) but I can see it in her too. She looks lost without him.

I feel let down. By my father, by the health service - by myself, for not being stronger for him.

I now know what rotting flesh smells like - it is suprisingly, sickeningly-sweet.