Thankful Thursday - Health Care Professionals

I'm getting a late start today. I called my grandpa at his hospital room earlier this morning. I've been doing it each morning since he was admitted for pneumonia on Monday. He's in a hospital that is a little over three hours from my home, so calling is the best I can do for now.

He sounded tired. And he went into coughing spasms while we spoke, which has probably been going on all along, but it's the first time I heard it. It sounded gut wrenching. I hated it.

Grandpa is not sleeping well in unfamiliar surroundings. He's not eating well because his appetite is minimal right now. And I know he does not like being in a hospital, having someone care for him. He's always been extremely self-sufficient and proud.

But this Thankful Thursday, I am just blessed knowing that he's being watched and cared for by professionals in the health care field. I feel a peace knowing he is being given medication to kill off the germs invading his body.

I like knowing he has nurses talking to him several times a day, even if just for a bit. My grandpa is very social. Actually, he's a big 89-year-old flirt. It felt good when he told me on Tuesday, "I've got some pretty... well, actually they aren't that attractive, but they're good nurses."

That just cracked me up. My grandpa's eyesight has been declining since before I was born. If Angelina Jolie and Dr. Ruth were standing in front of him, he likely wouldn't be able to see the difference. (He would say that he could feel the difference. Really. He has said that. In public. My brothers and I cringe, but he's harmless. He just likes getting people riled up. Most especially his grandkids. And waitresses. And nurses. Pretty much anyone who'll take the bait.)

Before he went into the hospital, Grandpa very stubbornly refused the suggestion from my older brother that we get some type of home health care for him. He is unsteady on his feet due to medications he takes. He also has arthritis. And feet that have been "bad" since he fell out of a barn decades ago and broke nearly every bone in them. (He drove himself to the hospital following that incident. He had to. My grandmother never drove. She never even had a license, as far as I know.)

In any case, he had been falling often in the week prior to his hospital admission. And he'd be on the floor sometimes for hours before someone realized he needed aid. He got a cold while attending my aunt's funeral a little more than a week before all the falling started. Between the falls and the cold, it's no wonder he ended up with pneumonia.

But that pneumonia landed him in the hospital. And now, all of a sudden, he's okay with us getting home health care. Once he gets home.

Some of his acquiescence may come from his acceptance of his own imitations. But I'm sure some of it also comes from his interactions with the hospital staff. I think he's tired of being lonely. And having someone check on him at home will give him regular opportunities to be silly and get someone riled up good. It's just in his nature.

I could never be a nurse. I'm too squeamish!

But I am so thankful for those called into that profession who have a love for helping people. A big shout out to all my nursing friends, too. You know who you are. You may not be The Nurse helping my grandpa, but you've done it for others countless times.