Behind Closed Doors: A Full-Circle Health Scare

After a harrowing hospital experience, an interesting request.

It’s funny how some memories come back to you. One afternoon when I was about eight years old, my stepdad and I were out running errands and we decided to stop at a bar for lunch. We sat at a high-top table and he had a drink (maybe two) while we ate.

He didn’t get drunk. He wasn’t intoxicated. However, I still vividly remember him saying, “Don’t tell mom we went to a bar for lunch” when we left.

He’s my parent.

I respect him.

Like any obedient kid, I didn’t tell my mom.

Fast forward 30 years. My stepfather is now 82 and had a very serious health scare (health scare at 82 — hard to believe, right?).

Kidney failure, a wonky heart and a few other issues all led to a month-long vacation in a local hospital. The first week of his hospitalization, he was in a coma.

I’m allowed to visit and as I walk toward his room, I’m a mess. I don’t know what I’m walking into. Is this it? Am I saying goodbye? I’m sick to my stomach, and tears are forming in the corners of my eyes.

I take a deep breath outside his room, collect myself and walk in. Twenty seconds later, I’m laughing. His dry-erase patient-information board says:

CAUTION! HIGH FALL RISK

I look at him and, as per usual when someone is in a coma, my stepfather is not moving. He’s lying down, and he looks like the antithesis of a fall risk. As someone who had a few drinks prior to the visit, I’m the one who’s a high fall risk.

After about a month in the hospital, my stepdad gets discharged, and I take him home.

As I drive, he asks me, “Where are we going?”

“Home!”

“Are we making a pit stop first?”

“I guess so... what are you thinking?”

“Tito’s sounds good.”

“Umm... OK, I guess?”

After a month in the hospital, I get it. My stepdad wants to socialize for a few minutes, see his Happy Hour pals and experience a few minutes of normalcy, so I oblige, but make it clear that we are only staying 30 minutes.

It only takes two or three sips for my stepdad to get a little tipsy. (Looking for a quick buzz? Kidney failure will do the trick!)

That’s when it hits me: Thirty years after that afternoon lunch with the high-top tables, I had to look my 82-year-old stepfather right in the face and say, “Don’t tell mom we just went to a bar for lunch.” Full-circle moment!

When we walked back into the house, my stepdad dimed us out immediately. My mom started screaming immediately, but only I could hear her because my stepdad left his hearing aids in the car. At least he didn’t leave them at the hospital!

We laugh about this to this day, and I’m happy to report that my stepfather is a very healthy 85 — and probably more active, social and less of a fall risk on most days than I am at 39. OSM