The Hunter Becomes the Hunted

I guess "the teacher becomes the student" is a little more apt. But whatever. I wrote this last week, then got distracted by a camping trip in the Porkies. More on that later.

Two Fridays ago, I got a call from my dad. He was in San Francisco and tells me he is in the hospital, needs an emergency appendectomy but refuses to go under the knife without a will or an advanced directive. After the initial shock of "I'm in the hospital," I was totally annoyed and outraged. I more or less contained it through the day's successful surgery, his couple more days hospitalized with a nagging fever and even through the delicious beet & chevre salad and mussels I had for lunch with him yesterday. I was about to get in the car to head back to Madison, when I kind of let him have it.

It's really dumb for him not to have a will. And he knows that. I was almost more irritated about the advanced directive because while not planning for the division of his stuff will create a headache for us, not expressing his desires for his health care is more troubling to me. And I threw in little things like that I give him the benefit of the doubt and don't think his not doing these things are a result of not caring about his health or his loved ones... but it can look like that. He hasn't thankfully had anything that turned out to be major, but he does have a tumor inside his skull, had a melanoma removed from his back and may need a heart valve replaced. So, like, we're all going to die, but there have been a couple reminders recently that he may sooner than... well.... enough reminders that it's dumb not to plan for the inevitable.

Anyway, I was also a little mad at myself because I had kind of assumed he made these plans and hadn't. So, now I know to nag him until he does (or the will in his chart at whatever SF hospital will remain in effect...) and I suggest you do the same with your delinquent parents in denial.