Jan. 11, 2010

Well it is 3:55 a.m., a lonely, solitary time when sitting in an ICU room with a fragile, ailing father. In the back round there is the quiet chatter of the ICU nurses and attendants as they go about their business caring for the very ill. Even though they have very stressful and demanding jobs, the staff here at Christian Northeast Hospital in St. Louis, MO are a very cheery and caring staff.

Tonight, dad has been hallucinating quite a bit. Thirty minutes ago, we had a conversation about my dead mother being in the room along with my grandmother and others that have departed this world, as they performed the First Noel, or so it was in dad's mind. He knew exactly where he was and who I was, but he was seeing things that I was not seeing and hearing things that I did not hear.

After being in ICU 3 days now, I guess it isn't that unusual for patients to hallucinate, but I dread these conversations because in the past when dad hallucinated, it was an indicator of worse things to come. I hope that this is not a repeat of last summer's hospital visit.

Well, the ICU nurse has come to do dad's morning blood work and take his blood sugar, so I most go for now.