I took Grandpa for an EGD this morning. He's had trouble swallowing for a good long while and it has finally become a big enough issue with eating & drinking that he was willing to have it checked out.
Good news: No cancer or other big scary things. He had a stricture (scar tissue, likely from years of acid reflux) that was narrowing his esophagus and makes swallowing difficult. They stretched it out and we are hoping that does the trick. Fingers crossed and prayers being said that he will be able to eat easier and can put some weight back on.
An EGD is done under conscious sedation, which means he's still pretty loopy and wobbly, so I'm hanging out with him until he's safe to be alone. Also, he's really funny on drugs. Just a few random and funny things he said in the hour after waking up...
"It wouldn't take much paint to paint a fire hydrant, would it?"
"When is Stacey going to... Stacey... not Stacey... Casey... CASEY... when is Casey going to be there?"
"There sure are a lot of foreigners in the medical field."
Grandpa: Wouldn't that be fun if they brought their weapons and had a shoot out?
Me: what? Who?
Grandpa: All these bikers.
Me: For Bikes, Blues & BBQ?
Grandpa: Yeah, wouldn't that be fun? They could all bring their weapons with them and have a shoot out.
Grandpa: Well, they have my permission.
Y'all that last one was so funny. I finally told him that he would be a terrible drunk.
He said he wasn't hungry, but I knew he needed to eat, so we stopped for a malt on the way home. And then this. Hilarious.
Since we've been home he's declared he's taking the trash out, has to stand up to swallow his medicine and that he NEEDS to wash his bedding. So far I've kept him seated while I took the trash out and washed his bedding. At the moment he is asleep in his recliner, the dog is asleep at his feet, and Eleanor is asleep on the quilt in the floor. Here's hoping that he wakes up feeling more coherent.