Posted by: Joelle Burnette | May 5, 2011

Dad’s nuts exploded

Mom: “Your father-in-law’s nuts are as big as pumpkins.”
Mark: “Then why don’t you carve them. Put some lights inside them and turn them into Jack-o-lanterns.”

If I had said that to my mother as she sat in the emergency room—her second home—she would have called me a bitch. If she was completely worn out and pissed at my dad, she would have screamed that I am a terrible daughter. But because my husband said it to her, she laughed it off as the joke it is.

Not so deep, doc. Sawing off my cast.

I had my foot surgery more than a week ago and I’m sick of taking pain meds and being stuck in the house. I’m sure my boss would also like me to get back out there and dig up more stories. It’s amazing how much I need two feet to get around.

Of course, while I am mostly dependent upon everyone around me until my foot has healed enough from being sliced open in two places, my mother always manages to find a way to outweigh anything bad in my life with something worse in hers.

“Well, you’ve been doing that, and I’ve been fighting hospitals, doctors, nurses and a machine,” one-upped my mother over the phone tonight.

That tooth pick is supposed to stop the saw from cutting off my foot?

“They may have to cut off your father’s foot,” she had told me last week as I sat on a chair with my foot elevated and covered in ice packs. She always starts off with the worst possibilities until I wade through her hyperboles to discover the reality of the situation.

My dad is on dialysis after too many years of abusing his diabetic condition by eating things he shouldn’t and not exercising enough. He’s also 81, which in his family is old, and pretty good for a diabetic. Dialysis is generally the last stage of his disease. And yes, because of current medical issues, he may indeed lose his foot…but not yet, and only if other options don’t work in the next few weeks or months.

Please, don't slip!

Back and forth mom drives my dad to the hospital and doctors’ offices as they try to help my dad who is looking so very old these days.

He was doing the dialysis at home, but when dad’s balls began to fill up with dialysis liquid, something was definitely wrong. “Your father’s nuts exploded last night,” is how she originally told me about this latest development.

“They really exploded?” I asked.

“Well, no, not completely, but you wouldn’t believe how big they are.”

“They just done blowed up?” I joked in my husband’s sometimes Southern accent.

Layers and layers and layers

“You want me to send you a picture? I’ll take a photo with my phone and send it to you if I can figure out how to send it,” she says. She’s had the phone for how many years and still can’t remember how to send a photo over her iPhone after I (and the kids) have taught her too many times.

Eew. “No, mom. I don’t need to see my father’s nuts. I know what they look like. And remember, I was with you at the hospital last time his nuts blew up.” Shivers.

Because there is now an apparent leak somewhere in my father’s belly, the dialysis liquid is leaking out and into my dad’s balls. That means he needs to be hooked up to the dialysis machine at the dialysis center instead of the one at home. The dialysis center didn’t have time in their schedule for my dad who is in pain; they wanted him to wait another day while his balls continue to resemble bowling balls. No worries; my mother knows how to get medical action fast.

The big reveal. Yippee, more scars. I get sick looking at this.

“I looked at your father and asked, would you mind?” she told me over the phone. Dad didn’t care anymore who sees whatever part of his body, so mom whipped out her iPhone and began showing all the photos from different angles of my dad’s scrotum.

“They looked like they were going to barf and they got him in there today. He’ll be there again tomorrow.

Go mom!


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