Dad Recovering At Home. Part 1
The shopping centre had been more crowded than usual this Saturday morning and I was glad to be on my way home.
As I turned into our driveway, my heart skipped a beat.
There was an ambulance parked there. I reversed back and parked on the street so as not to block it and then raced inside, my mind racing as to why it was there.
I burst through the front door, but no one was to be seen.
"Mum, dad!" I screamed.
"Out the back, Millie," I heard mum reply as I raced towards the back yard.
There was dad, lying flat on his back surrounded by two paramedics.
I noticed immediately to some relief, that his eyes were open, and he was holding mum's hand.
"Dad, dad, what happened? are you alright? Mum...." I stammered.
"I'm OK honey," dad replied somewhat unconvincingly. "I've just had a little fall."
I could see that the ladder and a flyscreen were at dad's feet. I recall him saying that some birds had been pecking at it and made a hole which he was going to fix. The window was on the high side of the house and although he didn't fall all that far, he must have landed awkwardly.
He had obviously placed his hands out to break his fall and the paramedics had placed bandages around the fingers of both hands.
Dad is 45 yo old and very fit, so he had that in his favour.
"We are taking your dad to the hospital for some x rays," said the female para. "We don't think there is a break in his spine, he can move his feet, but his fingers look bad, and he is in a lot of pain."
They slipped a rigid support under dad and lowered the gurney to ground level. The four of us where then able to manoeuvre him onto the gurney and wheel him around to the ambulance. Soon he was on his way to the hospital, with mum and I following in my car.
For three hours we waited patiently in the emergency department, until a doctor met us.
"Mrs Moore, the news is not too bad. There is no breakage, but there is evidence of a crushed vertebra. It will be painful for about a fortnight, but he should make a full recovery. He has however broken fingers on both hands which we have put in a cast. We are going to keep him overnight, but he can go home tomorrow, but he will need about two weeks of bed rest," the doctor advised.
We both let out an audible sigh of relief.
We were able to visit dad in his room.
He looked up sheepishly as we entered, no doubt expecting a tongue-lashing from mum for being so careless to fall from the ladder.
However, mum was sympathetic, no doubt still in shock from the morning's events.
"You were lucky Steve, the doctor said you have crushed vertebra and hopefully you will be up and about in 2 weeks. We will take you home tomorrow. I'll ring your work on Monday. You have plenty of sick leave so its bed rest for you." mum explained.
"And I'm on a uni break dad so I can be home to help. You just need to take it easy," I added.
The nurse came in and said she was going to give dad some painkillers and he should rest and we should go home. We kissed dad goodbye, saying we will be back tomorrow to take him home.
The hospital advised us to hire a walker. There was a medical supply department attached to the hospital, so we got a walker and took it home.
"Millie, I am so glad that you are home from uni to help me with your dad. I can take some time off work, but we have a project that we are finishing up, so I will have to go in most days, even if only for a few hours," mum explained.
"You know I will do all that I can, mum," I answered truthfully.
Next day, we got a call from the hospital, saying that dad could come home.
The nurse wheeled him out in a chair, and we gently manoeuvred him into the front seat. He winced slightly, despite our best care.
We drove home slowly and drove right up to the front door. Together, mum and I got dad out of the car. Thankfully, dad was not a particularly big person, rather athletic and not carrying an ounce of fat.
We decided to place dad in the downstairs guest bedroom which also had an ensuite toilet and shower.
It was Summer, so it was decided that dad would be most comfortable if he did not have to wear any clothes. This presented a little bit of a problem as dad had to be undressed and put to bed. I had never seen my dad naked, but now was not the time for any shyness. I needed to help mum undress him and get him comfortable in bed.
Mum and I had discussed this earlier and we agreed that we had to be mature and sensible with approaching this matter.
"Dad, I don't want you to be embarrassed, but if I am going to look after you for the next week or so, we have to accept that I will see you naked, so it's just the way it has to be. I'm Ok with it so I hope you will be too," I made clear.
"Millie, I understand, I'm just so grateful that you are here, I'm feeling pretty helpless, I can't use my hands," dad responded with a hint of a blush.
"Alright then," mum spoke up," let's get you in bed."
Dad could lift his arms, so mum removed his t shirt. Then the two of us helped dad out of the walker and guided his bottom onto the edge of the bed. He was then able to lie flat as we lifted his legs up.
Now was the time to remove his shorts. It was a single bed, so our plan was to stand either side of the bed and pull his pants down from there. To make it least painful, we removed his shorts and underwear in the one movement.
Although, it was my intention to make removing dad's clothes as clinical as possible, I found it impossible not to caste a glance at dad's cock. It was impressive; even flaccid it had imposing length and girth. Also, to my surprise, his pubic hair was neatly trimmed and even more surprising, there no hint of tanlines, suggesting dad most likely was in the habit of sunbaking nude. This was entirely possible, since I knew mum and dad went to the beach most weekends and I never went with them. Were they nudists without my knowledge? I guess it was none of my business, and I certainly had no problem with it.
So dad was now comfortably set up in bed. We drew a sheet up to preserve his dignity. There were four pillows there, so when needing food or a drink we could prop him up with them.
We gave dad some painkillers and left him alone to have a sleep.
It was now mid afternoon, so mum and I sat down and opened a bottle of white wine. We were in need of a drink after a hectic morning.
"What sort of a patient do you think dad will be mum?" I enquired, thinking he would be no trouble knowing his easy going nature.
"Oh, he will tough it out I'm sure. I think it will be harder on us than him," mum laughed.
"Mum, not that I was looking," I ventured hesitantly," but I couldn't help but notice dad had a bit of an all over tan. Do you guys go to a nudist beach?"
