December 11th 2012 1:52 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 2 people already have ]

Dad had the rest of his Wisdom Teeth out on Thursday. He had two of his Wisdom Teeth out when he was a teenager. It went badly and Dad was scarred for life. As long as Mom has known Dad, he was supposed to go back and get the other two teeth out, or else he would get an infection. Well, Dad never would go back, and then he got an infection and that was that; face the fear or die of infection. Mom assured Dad that THIS oral surgeon (the same one who took out her wisdom teeth) passed out drugs like it was candy, and that Dad would be fine. Plus, despite my lack of faith in Mom's Maternal Skills; Mom actually DOES possess "some" maternal skills, plus there was ME, Nurse Pennie to take care of Dad, and all would go well.

I took care of Dad from the time he stumbled into the house post oral surgery Thursday afternoon, all through Thursday, Friday, and into Saturday as well. I rarely left the couch except to eat and provide myself with nourishment -- even caregivers must eat.

Last night, Dad went to bed, but was now "off drugs." Mom encouraged him that perhaps he should take a pain pill; after all he had worked all day and it would help him sleep. Dad did not want to take a pain pill. After all the time that I spent as Nurse Pennie, attending to every post oral-surgery whimper that Dad uttered, I "thought" that I had earned the right to touch Dad while sleeping upon the Concrete Queen Bed.

I was wrong. I spent all that time as Nurse Pennie, hour upon sleepless hour, only to be informed that No Dogs May Touch Dad While Dad Sleeps On the Concrete Queen Bed. To add insult to injury, Dad was in quite a surly mood.

Dad's surliness immediately made both Sophie and Me, Nurse Pennie, feel extreme guilt, and like all dogs, we had an immediate need to touch and smother Dad. The more we touched and smothered Dad, the more Dad became annoyed because he could not sleep, AND because we were touching him. Mom kept attempting to intervene, encouraging us over to HER dog-friendly side of the Concrete Queen, but of course, being dogs, we HAD to make it right with Dad, and touch him until he loved us again.

I have given up on being Nurse Pennie to Dad. Next time he is ill and needs Compression Therapy, or has post-surgical pain and needs a Dog Heating Pad and Naturally Humidified Healing Vapors, I shall not administer them. I don't care about the Hippocratic Oath. I have my pride.