a chair and a man

 
This is a story about a chair and a man.  This is Truett's favorite green recliner.  This is Truett's bed.  But, what you may not know is that this chair swallows things whole and tumps grown men onto the floor!

First, I'll write about this "swallowing" chair.  It's true.  On many occasions, Truett has called me into the living room/TV room and said, "I can't find the remote controller.  Will you find it?"

"RATS!" I spurt, and then add, "Well, just get out of it!"  And my husband transfers himself to his indoor/outdoor scooter.

Then the search begins.  I flatten the chair out, feel down in the crevices, lift the pillows, and feel some more.  Now come on.  A chair can't EAT anything.  But, I swear, this chair does.

Next, I know I have to tump the recliner on its side and then reach my arm way up into the coils through a torn cloth bottom.  My fingers act like little octopus arms, wrapping around a bandana, a western paperback book, toothpicks, and crumbs . . .lots of crumbs.

When that fails, I heave the recliner upright and cuss a little bit.  Then I tump the recliner over on its other side and the search begins again.  Of course, I glare at Truett and spit, "Why didn't you put the remote controller on the table where it belongs?"

All he says is, "I was asleep!"

Finally, the controller drops through some hole and I throw a pillow on the tile floor and shine a flashlight under the chair.  Then I retrieve the controller, barely able to get off my sixty-eight year old knees.  Of course, I lecture Truett and he just says, "Be nice!"

 
This recliner also tumps grown men onto the floor, just as it did Wednesday morning.  Sure enough, at 7:15 a.m. I hear a thunk and then the cry, "Merry!"  I am beginning to hate that cry. 

Nevertheless, I rushed into the livingroom/TV room and find Truett upside down with his head on the tile floor and his legs in the air.

"JEEZE!" I cry.  Now I know I cannot lift Truett's dead weight, so I called one of our employees, "Come help me get Truett out of the floor!"  So Jimmy rushes over and lifts Truett to his feet while I up-right Truett's favorite green recliner.  The recliner from Hell, I call it!

Around noon on Wednesday, Truett complained of a severe headache.  I chalked it up to the "George Migranes" and I gave him four Tylenol.  However, the pain continued . . .and then the vomiting began.  I told Truett at 4:30 p.m., "Let's go to the ER." 

But, no.  He only mumbled and held his head.  "You're going to wait until dark," aren't you?" I said.  And sure enough, at 7:15 Truett said, "Let's go.  I don't feel right."

So I loaded Truett up in the Acadia and we drove five miles when Truett said,  "I think I feel better.  Let's go back home."  Part of me knows I quickly agreed because I have difficulty driving in the dark; and now I'm feeling really guilty that I didn't stick to my guns and get him to the ER sooner.  But, that's history.

 
  All through Wednesday night and Thursday morning Truett woke me every hour.  "My head is killing me!"  Then he would upchuck!

Around 8:00 a.m. on Thursday morning, I received a call from Truett's primary care doctor's nurse.  She told me Dr. Stalvey said to call 911 and get him into an emergency room immediately.

I looked at Truett and thought, "That's what I'm doing.  You're not talking me out of this trip again."

Ultimately, scans and MRI's were done and it appears that the bump Truett received from the flip of the recliner, caused bleeding into his brain . . .or onto his brain.  I saw the scans and it showed a river of blood around his brain. 

Since Truett has been on Coumadin for years, he bleeds freely.  Now, I believe the doctors agree to take him off Coumadin, after they loaded him up with Vitamin K.

End of story:

Truett is not as confused as he has been the past couple of days; however, he does say a few things that have no bearing on the conversation.  He is still in the Neuro ICU Unit and will probably be there for a couple of more days.  No surgery is needed.  The blood will ultimately be absorbed by his body...or brain?  I'm not certain.  But, he was better today than yesterday and the day before.

Thanks for all your prayers!

But, here is the bigger question . . ."What do I do with this chair?"  I think I may have to pull a mattress behind it in case it tosses Truett to the floor again!  And, as far as gobbling up our stuff.  Well, the chair can have it!

Comments

[merry jennifer]

We definitely need to do something about that damned chair.

[tina]

I know what to do with it, but Dad wouldn't like my idea!