Papa Brenan

2-17-11




I come to this with bad news.



Papa Brenan is in the hospital.



After tossing and turning for an hour, I finally fell asleep last night. I was once again feeling nauseous. I was asleep when I felt Ken push on my legs at the foot of the bed. The only words I heard were, “Dad had a stroke”.



I think I asked if he was talking about his dad or my dad. I was very foggy, but I knew I had to wake up. Ken was in and out of the room, trying to call someone. I determined it was his mom, therefore making the sick dad his.



At one point, Ken asked me to dial the phone since he was shaking from cold and nerves. I spoke to his mom briefly. She didn’t sound as panicked as Ken looked. Ken got the phone from me and I heard him talking to her as he wandered out of the bedroom. I knew I was not going to go back to sleep at this point. I also knew that I needed to let him get his info and to be ready to help him when he needed it.



After 30 minutes or so I finally got the scoop.



Andy had spoken to their dad earlier, and he was fine. But in the evening, he wasn’t doing as well. Their was some difficulty in writing, and the tone of his voice was off. Ken talked to him last night, and his father though for a good chunk of the conversation that Ken was one of his coworkers. Ken also noted the change in the timber of his voice. Something was wrong.



Ken and Andy told their mom to call 911. It took a lot of convincing. She isn’t big on doctors. By the time the ambulance was taking him, she was coming around on the idea that something wasn’t right.



The Brenan sibs conference call sounded grim. Ken told me how even the normally jovial Andy was extremely serious. When Ken finally crawled back into bed, he was clearly shaken. It was tough to see.



His mom called around midnight. A stroke was ruled out. There also didn’t seem to be any issues with his heart. They were going to scan his head to see what was causing his symptoms. Andy was going to go up this morning. There is a big storm up there right now, causing even the ambulance to need chains to get to the Compound.



Sleep was not restful. Between concern and feeling sick, I am beat this morning. I am also on high alert. If something is really bad, Ken is going right up. This will mean I may need to retrieve Dax this morning. It will also mean some scheduling issues with taking the boys to school tomorrow. On the plus side, I am sure that if need be, on Monday they can hang with my folks as my mom will have that day off.



Poor Holly is dealing with this information while she is in St. Louis, caring for her best friend of 30 years who is dying. Her friend, Laura, had breast cancer that spread. The doctors have given her 3 weeks to 2 months to live. According to Holly’s updates, it doesn’t sound like she will have the 2 months. Holly is a wreck.



Papa Brenan is 76, if I remember correctly. We have now entered the part of our lives in which we start taking care of our folks more than they take care of us. It is a scary transition.



Ken has to go to Dax’s parenting class this morning. I am sure he is not up for it. I half expect him to call me to do it. I just emailed him the homework for class. I kind of hope he goes if only to get his mind off of things.



I don’t feel well. I want to sleep some more. I am worried about Papa Brenan. I hate this.