that was rough

Bill and I are back at my mom's house and my dad was sleeping when we left him. The nurses tonight told us that he has two broken scapulae!! She said they were nasty breaks and that he would need two surgeries - one on each scapula (putting a plate on it and screwing it in). They said he has five broken ribs and did not know how many punctures to the lung. My mom said that the orthopedic surgeon had previously reported that he would operate on the clavicle. His vitals were too low for more pain meds. I was ready to spend the night, but he didn't want me to and asked Bill to take me home. So Bill brought me back here.

The chest tube that is in is really nasty and it is still draining......can't operate until the lung re-inflates - still won't let him eat in case he is cleared for surgery they want him ready to go immediately. :-( Poor dad/granddaddy/Steve is in a lot of pain and they are trying to manage it, but they just can't. The right scapula is (per patient report) floating around and probably in pieces (per my speculation).

Time for a funny story: My mom's dear friend, who shall remain nameless in the blog, actually beat my mom to the hospital after getting the call. She only had her husband's old vehicle, which is hilariously referred to as "hunk of junk." She got in it and drove it to the hospital despite her disdain for said vehicle. On the way out of her neighborhood, a neighbor flagged her down and asked her what happened because something really bad must have happened if she were leaving in that vehicle! I think that is both touching and insanely funny.

Also - my brother is obnoxiously funny in traumatic situations. He located a guy in the street on a wheelchair/scooter who was flying, by wheelchair/scooter standards. He was driving in the right lane and Bill and I were amazed. We saw the helicopter land and fly away during our time in what is being called "Suite B" aka Bed 2 of a semi-private suite. One room was guarded by a cop because the dude in there is not going home from the hospital if you know what I mean. When Bill and I went to get something to eat, we asked a nurse what floor to go to. She said, "Basement. The food's crap, but good luck!" as she was walking away from us.

FYI: he is in room 735 at University of Louisville in what is called Progressive Care. Sort of half-way between ICU and regular hospital. He may not feel like talking, but if you want to send him wishes, he will have access to this site through his iPhone and he will receive them. Mom is going back tomorrow early because the doctors come in at 5:00 and she wants to get an update. Hoping surgery will be scheduled soon to stabilize those bones that are extremely painful. Keep the prayers coming.

lyons out