Called in urgently. Dad us confused and aggresive.

 

                                                Above picture is of Penarth Pier. (for effect)

It's about 14:35, Tuesday 30th December 2025 and I'm at work when my mobile rings.

'Hello, it's the sister at the ward where your dad is staying...'

panic, what now...

'There's nothing to worry about but, er, dad has become a little bit aggressive and somewhat violent and he's trying to pull out his IV lines. We've been trying to calm him down but we thought maybe he's confused and disorientated and wondered maybe if you could come in s a familiar face may help. He's saying he wants to go home.'

I was there within 20 minutes and when I got to the pin number controlled ward doors they were waiting for me. I turned the corner and there was dad, sitting in just a hospital gown on a plastic chair in the middle of the corridor, clearly highly agitated, (I guess he'd been taken from the ward or possibly he'd managed to walk there). He was surrounded by 4 nurses and a security guard.

'Ah, Izabelle. I want to go home; now. I'm not staying a moment longer, they're trying to keep me here, they have no right and I'm going home.' He tried to stand up and 4 nurses jumped to restrain him as he tried to pull out his IV lines. 'I'm not staying in this wretched place a moment longer.' he turned to the nurse 'Don't touch me. I know my rights. I'm going to call the police...'

'Dad. You OK?' I said, not knowing what else to say, although he clearly wasn't OK. 'You have to stay until your ribs are better, remember?'

'No! I'm not staying here. I know my rights!' He tried to get up again, pushing the male nurse away. The nurses moved away and he lowered his volume and spoke silently to me, 'They're trying to kill me.'

I looked at him, wondering if I'd misheard. 'How'd you mean?'

I bent down to hear him better. Again in a low voice he said 'I know they're trying to kill me. I need for  you to take me home. Now.'

'Er, shall we take you to your bed dad, it's quieter there, I can't quite hear you...'

He stood up, the nurses desperately trying to untangle his lines from the chair. I grabbed the oxygen cylinder and we all walked to his bed.

'I'm not getting in that bloody bed. I'm going home. Don't you DARE tell me what to do. I know my rights. Get the police!' He began flinging his arms about aggressively.

'OK dad,' I said. 'Just sit down there while we sort this out OK. So we can have a chat. There see all the lovely nurses will leave us alone but it's quieter in here so you can tell me what's been going on.'

He gestured me to come closer - as if he was going to tell me something of utmost importance. With total lucidity he said 'They're extremely clever you see. You'd never know. They come at night time and they put things in the drip. Not all of them - just some of them... They're going to poison me with tranquilisers and then kidnap me. I KNOW you don't believe me but you have to believe it. They are so very convincing...'

Ye gods I thought am I losing my mind, I was starting to believe him, until he suddenly broke off and said... 'Ohhhhhhhhh wow look at those beeeaauuttiffuuuuulllll lights. Look at those colours! I don't think I've ever seen anything quite so amazing in my life...'

I looked at the ceiling where he was pointing, to be greeted with the sight of a standard white plain hospital ceiling. 'Okkaaaaaaay,' I said, trying to process it.

'And that high OAK beam fireplace, that's just lovely. beautiful.' He pointed to the opposite wall where the electrical wiring conduit they have on all wards was, at about the same height as the fireplace.

'Let me just have a quick chat with the nurses.' I said, and got up off the chair. He tried to get up. 'No. dad, you stay there a minute. I will be right back...'

A nurse came past, so I told her. Another nurse said she'd keep an eye and I nipped outside. The nurse said it was common in the elderly and especially one on painkillers and antibiotics and everything else and the ward was a new environment for him. They'd tried to take a sample of urine earlier to see if he also had a water infection but he wouldn't let them have any, saying they weren't stealing anything from him anymore.

As I was talking to the nurse and telling her this was a very new thing, usually he was sharp as a pin and never confused or apt to flights of fancy, or visions or confusions. Then my eyes started prickling. I apologised as the tears started flowing (again). She offered me a cup of tea and a tissue - as is the normal thing to do in such circumstances. As I tried to stem the flow of tears, I heard him yelling again that he was going home whether they liked it or not. He would just walk out the door. I figured he wasn't aware yet the door had a coded lock on it.

I phoned a friend. This lady has been a total rock for my family, she is a member of the local church he goes to and despite his obnoxiousness, stubbornness and bad attitude, she has stayed in touch, offering help and helpful, down-to-earth advice throughout the past few years. The lady is called Julie and she has no idea what a saint she is. I called Julie and told her what had happened and she offered to come straight over to the hospital. Dad listens to Julie, perhaps not all the time, but he respects her as a sensible grown up (a status he has still not granted to me). Bless her she was there within about 20 minutes, having walked over.

Between us and the painkiller patches the nurses stuck on him, he calmed down, had a cup of coffee and although confused, he was OK for us to leave at the end of visiting hours, although he still tried to get up and leave with us, asking for his shoes. He asked where his car keys were. I asked why he wanted them - we figured it was best to play along. He said his car was outside. I asked which car. He snapped 'the blue car of course,' like I was stupid. He hasn't had a blue car since about 1995.

Oh dear.