Hallucinations and blood thinners are not a good combination.
Actually, I don’t think anything combines well with hallucinations. Well, Girl Scout cookies maybe. But definitely not blood thinners.
Gary has been on blood thinners
since his heart attack nearly two years ago.
It added another level of stress when he fell and he gets the usual
bruising from doing nothing but, other than that, it’s no big deal. Except when the hallucinations complicate
things.
Every once in a while, (twice,
to be exact), he claws the flesh from his chest to let out the spiders. Once I get everything cleaned up, the wound
is not so bad (it only needs to be big enough to let out the spiders after all). But thanks to the blood thinners, the bloody
chaos that awaits me is vaguely reminiscent of the Tate murder scene. I mean, he’s bedridden – how does he get
blood on the ceiling? The TV on the
other side of the room? It’s not even
worth trying to salvage the sheets.
As I collect my latex gloves
and paper towels and Clorox Wipes and trash bags, I remember the good old days
when hallucination clean-up was picking up tissues he threw all over the room
because he thought there was a baby skunk trapped in the tissue box. And as I survey the mess that seems
positively insurmountable and wonder what’s coming next, I miss the baby skunk
hallucinations.
And Girl Scout cookies.
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