Bad Call

There's never a good time for a bad call.

Round about 6:40 this evening, the phone rang. This is not unusual; there seems to be an autodialer that enjoys annoying us in the evenings, no matter how many times it gets our answering machine. But this was not an autodialer. It was my uncle.

He was at Grandpa's house.

Sometime during the day, his old thermostat malfunctioned. Did he know it was malfunctioning? Had he felt chilled and turned the gauge up? Had he tried to call? We will probably never know; he's been losing his words, over the years, losing the focus needed to pick up a telephone and dial for help... if indeed he recognized that he needed help.

By the time my uncle stopped in after work, the entire house - including the basement - was about 100 degrees. Grandpa was lying in bed, panting, hardly coherent.

Heatstroke, the EMTs confirmed.

He's in the hospital now, being cooled down from a high core temp of 105 (CORRECTION: Evidently, we misheard. It wasn't 105. It was 109.) It's too soon to tell if there will be lasting brain damage, if he might develop pneumonia... if he has spent his last night in his own home.

Since they only want one relative at a time to see him, and since my uncle and aunt (and her husband) were already there, Mom opted to stay home unless called for now.

He's proven remarkably hardy in the past, so we're all hopeful that this isn't the end. Not yet. He was apparently twitching his feet and toes when they got him into the ER, which is a "good sign" according to the doctors. In the meantime, there's not much to do except keep an ear cocked for the phone to ring.

And hope that it's not another bad call.

WEDNESDAY UPDATE: This afternoon, right after work, I headed over with the family to see Grandpa in the hospital. He's still pretty out of it, but he opened his eyes now and again and was determined to get his oxygen mask off. Looks like he can move on both sides of his body, but it's still too soon to tell if he's lost anything else to heatstroke. He's doing much, much better than yesterday, though... evidently, he was down to brain-stem functioning. Probably less than an hour from actual death. In any event, it'll be a few days before he can go home, if it's determined that he can head home at all. We'll be inspecting the furnace and replacing the controller thermostat before then. (I proposed subjecting the faulty equipment to a sledgehammer retirement, but I expect my uncle will opt for more traditional removal methods.)

FRIDAY UPDATE: First, the Killer Furnace update. Evidently, the older model of thermostat in Grandpa's house had a little glitch: if the thermostat died, the furnace would run indefinitely. (Ours has died and our furnace just wouldn't kick on, but ours is newer.) So, even though the max thermostat setting was 99, the place actually got significantly warmer. Hence, the near-death. But it's Being Dealt With.
Now, the other update...
After a bad night, the hospital was forced to sedate him to keep him calm enough to stay in bed. Today, Grandpa was evidently doing Not So Great (TM). The drugs might explain some of it, but the doctors believe there is actual brain damage from the heatstroke. The upshot is that he can't live alone, possibly not ever again.
This will have to be Dealt With Soon...
Dang it...

SATURDAY UPDATE: According to relatives, he was doing better today, but still needs rehab at the least and alternate permanent housing at the worst. His short-term memory, never his strong suit these days, seems to be worse, and he's confused about why he's at the hospital, or if he's at the hospital at times. He's also being treated for pneumonia.