Today, I got the disappointing news that my father is in ill health and not doing well.

He lives in the State of Maine, and had come down with pneumonia. He recovered, no small feat for a man in this 70s, and decided to head to Hawaii for a previously planned and already delayed vacation to complete his recovery. However, he relapsed once he arrived in the islands and was not responding to any oral antibiotics, so they put him on IV antibiotics and steroids and moved him by ambulance to the largest medical facility in Honolulu for a surgical sampling of lung tissue.

He got through the surgery well with vital signs stable, etc., although his white blood count is low, which indicates infection, despite the antibiotics. He still has a ventilator tube down his throat to help him breathe and has to write out his requests and answers to questions. It looks like he will be in the hospital at least another 3 more days as he waits on the biopsy results.

He was refusing pain medication for the first day following the surgery, until the nurse told him that they needed to change his bed sheets, brush his teeth, and wash his face (general upkeep) which would all cause still more pain. He agreed at that point to have some pain meds put into his IV.

So at this point, I think it's safe to say that his vacation in Hawaii is not going the way he had planned.

It looks like the tough old bastard (and I use those words with respect and affection) will survive this ordeal. Everyone in my family seems quite understandably freaked out. Life and death is the great matter, and this episode is another uncomfortable reminder of our mortality.