Not a Nice Holiday

Dad is down from Sydney this week, he was coming down for the Melbourne Cup (which is today). However, instead of seeing the horses run around the track, my Dad thought it would be better to see the inside of our hospitals.

It appears that some left overs that he ate at home before leaving on his road trip to Melbourne have caused quite a serious case of food-poisoning. He went to the local medical centre at 6.30pm last night, after suffering with it (quietly) for the past three days, the Dr organised an ambulance to take Dad to the hospital because of his high fever and abdominal pain.

After much talk of putting cameras on tubes into places no one wants them to go, a surgeon was called on to look at the blood work, x rays and other test results.
The surgeon was in Theatre and we waited as long as we could but, we left the hospital at 2 in the morning after we could keep our eyes open no more, leaving Dad to rest.

When we got home about 2.30 Helen (Dad’s girlfriend) called the hospital to see if the surgeon had been by, apparently the surgeon felt it is very very bad food poisoning, started him on IV fluids and hopefully he’ll be right today.
So if he is well and not too tired from lack of sleep, we’ll probably end up at Crown Casino to watch the big race. If he is too tired, he can watch it on the big screen at home.

5 thoughts on “Not a Nice Holiday”

  • Thanks for the kind words, he’s still not feeling too good, but he’s home.

    Sounds like they are spending the day at home today. I’m writing instructions at the moment on how to use the TV and DVD player… as you no doubt know; these require extensive instructions for our technophobic families.

  • Goodluck, one of the perks of being International now is that my family are less inclined to phone up for remote assistance on video programming, and dvd use.

    … and you saw our remote control collection, my folks had huge issues. The house alarm was bad enough. We’d be interstate somewhere or at an airport, and the security company would phone us to tell us the alarm had been activated. That’s how we knew my parents had arrived. *laugh*

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