Lori and I went to Kelowna yesterday on the news that an old friend/distant relative of hers had taken ill and was in hospital. We had gotten word that it was serious and so we headed out first thing. 

Hospitals are not one of my favourite places but neither do I find them dreadful or scary, and when someone is wounded or pitifully sick it seems like a good idea to be in one. 

We arrived at about 10 in the morning. The five level parkade was completely full with half a dozen cars making their way up and down searching. As luck would have it, as we were making our turn around at the top, a young woman emerged from the elevator and proceeded to her car and we slipped into her spot just as the procession of ever circling space hunters once again rounded the last turn. As I slipped coins into the ticket machine a man beside us commented on how lucky we were to only be buying only one hours worth of parking…he was paying for six. I guess that’s why the lot was so full; many people visit for hours…and often do so on a daily basis. 

We found Lyle sitting up on the side of his bed finishing some juice and taking a shot of oxygen with help from a young woman. He didn’t look great but then again Lyle is six weeks shy of his ninety-ninth birthday so, as he would say, just to look alive is to look great. The fact that he was sitting up and able to talk to us seemed a good sign indeed. You see, last time we saw him he had announced his longevity goal to be one hundred and five and so we are naturally pulling for him. He had told us that at age one hundred he would receive a note of congratulations from non other than the queen herself…unless of course, she croaked in the meantime, in which case a note from the king would have to suffice…he would prefer the queen though. 

As we were chatting, a woman came in and introduced herself as his niece. She lives in Kelowna and has taken on being his ’go-to’ girl. She said she was planning a long visit so left us with him while she waited in the lounge. After a minute or two Lori excused herself and disappeared for twenty minutes or so. Lyle and I carried on. As it turns out his date of birth was a mere two weeks before my fathers. My father died in 1988 a few weeks shy of his sixty-ninth…younger than I am now…and he was a veteran of WW2 as was Lyle. I like to think that if my dad had lived to be Lyles age I would have gotten to know him better. 

So we had a good chat. He asked me how I was holding up and recommended taking vitamin B-12 ‘because your kidneys stop producing it right around your age.’ He demonstrated how he still worked at getting his arms over his head, something he’d been having trouble with since this latest annoyance. ’They say it’s my heart’ he said, ‘But I’ve never had any heart problems…I don’t believe ‘em. Still and all, I can’t go home until I get my strength back. I just get so damn tired for no reason.’ 

I suggested that being on the cusp of ninety-nine might have something to do with it. ‘Hmm, I suppose,’ he said with a smile. 

Lori came back in and we stayed until it became obvious that he needed some rest. 

On the way out she told me that she had gone out to get a full report on his condition from his niece. It was sad to hear. He has congestive heart failure. He won’t be going home again. He can go into a care facility when a space becomes available. Until then he’ll be in the geriatric wing of the hospital. He won’t like that. It is strange to think that just six months ago he took both cognitive and road tests in order to maintain his drivers licence…he passed. But now things have changed and this lovely man, so strong for so long, will decide just how much he really cares about congratulations from the queen. 

We’ll be visiting again soon.