Early Morning Ultrasound

Opa and I are not morning people. So, needless to say, I wasn’t thrilled when Opa’s ultrasound was booked for 7:30 am. I was even less thrilled when I learned that the test required an 8 hour fast. Opa is a round-the-clock grazer and he is also very persistent, especially when it comes to quenching his thirst.

Opa drinks 3 quarts of milk a day, and only turns to water when no other drinkable liquids are available. (I recently found a bottle of Tamari on his nightstand.) So I am thinking that it will be quite a challenge to keep Opa on this 8 hour fast. I decide to discuss it with him.

“You know, Dad, you have a checkup appointment tomorrow morning at the hospital and you’re not allowed to have anything to eat or drink after midnight.”

“No problem!” he says confidently.

“Yes, but I was wondering if it might not be a good idea to put a note on the fridge to remind you just in case?”

“The note is a good idea,” he says. “But I don’t think you should put it on the fridge.”

“Where should I put it then?”

“On my finger,” he says with a grin. “If you tied a note to my finger I would notice it right away.”

I laugh. “But what if you rip it off in your sleep?”

“Hm... Yes, yes, I would probably do that. You could tie a note to the handle of the fridge. I would notice that right away too.”

“Thanks, Dad. Great idea.”
 

At midnight, I have the note ready. And I tie the fridge and cupboard door handles securely together with string.

 

 

I also take some extra precautions: wine and cognac are removed from the cold cellar, and scissors and knives are removed from the kitchen and stored in my room for the night.

When I get up rhis morning at 5:30, the note has been moved to the kitchen table, but everything else is intact. At 6:00 am, I wake up Opa. He springs to life and seems quite happy.

“Where are we going?” he asks with a smile of anticipation as I get his shaving stuff ready. But when he hears my answer, his mood fizzles. “To the hospital for a checkup? At this hour? It’s still dark!”

“I know, Dad. It’s really early. I tried to get a different time for you, but...”

“No, I am not going.” He turns and walks away. “I go back to bed.”

 I know from experience that you don’t try to oppose Opa (or me) first thing in the morning. I also know that today I have an advantage: Opa’s 8 hour fast.  

“Before you go, Dad, I was hoping to treat you for a big breakfast after the appointment. Bacon and eggs, pancakes with syrup, orange juice, coffee... or whatever else you’d like. What do you think?”

He turns and glares at me. Then his eyebrows slowly unfurl and I know I’ve got him. Within seconds he is a happy again and lets me shave him (note to self: research electric razors). The rest of the day goes without a hitch... well, except for the clearly audible commentaries about his fellow patients in the waiting room (“Why is that bald man who just came in not wearing a hat? Is he not freezing?” “Look at that woman in the corner! Vow, is she big!”). But I am used to this now.

Breakfast was delicious. We're off to see his family doctor soon for the results of other tests. Maybe afterwards we'll go out for fish and chips.