Afternoon at the Lake

The recent weather in central Oklahoma has been gorgeous and unseasonably cool. Dad and I enjoyed the wonderful weather this past Sunday on the inside patio of the Lakeside Restaurant that abuts scenic Lake Hefner. I was happy we went there, for more than one reason.

My Dad is ninety. Two Mondays ago, my brother Jack and I had to take him to the emergency room because he had fallen during the night. He had a big knot on his forehead and a cut on his nose that required three stitches.

Visiting him later, I noticed he was wearing a pair of shoes with the laces removed. He couldn’t get on his size eight shoes on to his swollen feet so I bought him a new pair, size eleven and a half.

“I’ll have the nurse look at his feet,” the friendly attendant told me.

Brother Jack called the next day. He’d had a lengthy phone conversation with Dad’s geriatric doctor and the prognosis sounded dire.

“He thinks he has congestive heart failure. We may have to hospitalize him. They can keep him alive with drugs but his quality of life will be almost nothing. We’ll have to decide if we want to keep giving him the drugs. We have an appointment at eleven thirty tomorrow.”

Following my conversation with Jack, I felt a horse had kicked me in the head. The doctor’s visit turned out well. Dad’s heart is strong, as are all his vital signs. Doctor K prescribed compression hose for his swelling and told us to check back in six months.

At the Lakeside Sunday, I was happy that my Dad is a healthy ninety-year old. I was also happy because the mild weather had brought out more pretty females than I could shake a stick at. I don’t know if Dad noticed, but I did.

Fiction South