Chapter 3 Hank Handles His Affairs
Hank was watching out the window for Temperance to arrive. Booth had taken Parker camping with his best friend's Boy Scout troop for the weekend. Brennan realized this was a good opportunity for her to continue the conversation Pops had started a year ago when his heart problems had first presented.
She pulled into a space in the Willow River parking lot, got Christine out of her car seat and into her stroller, and started down the sidewalk toward the retirement home's front entrance. Hank met her at the door, and Christine jabbered excitedly at the sight of her great-grandfather's smiling face. "'Ops, Ops!" she exclaimed.
"I'm baffled as to why she can pronounce ending 'p's but not starting ones," Brennan remarking wryly as she gave Hank a hug.
"Kids come up with their own version of what to call their relatives, honey, and there's no explaining it. Jared and Shrimp had some strange names for me and their Gran when they were very young."
"I'm so glad you had a chance to come see me; the ladies are excited to see our little lady here, and I could use a good chess partner for a change. Poor Fred's had a sore throat and I'm not interested in catching it from him, so we haven't been able to play. Most of the other old geezers around here don't have the patience for chess games, and checkers is just too boring after one or two rounds to hold my interest."
"I'll be glad to take you on, Hank. You're always a worthy adversary. My dad said he was going to come up and challenge you to a few matches later this month. He rarely let me win when I was a child, but he says that's why I'm a good chess player now."
"I saved my pudding from lunch for Christine; it's vanilla, so is that okay for her to have?"
"Sure, Hank, she's just like her father; they both love their pudding way too much."
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Once they settled Christine with her treat and had the chess board set out on the small table in Hank's room, Pops motioned for Brennan to take the easy chair and pulled a folding chair out of his closet.
"No, Hank, you sit in your chair and I'll use the folding one," Brennan urged him.
"Okay, honey, suit yourself. But before we start our game, I've got something to show you."
Hank walked over to his dresser and pulled a folder from the top drawer. He withdrew a piece of paper and handed it to Brennan.
"You remember what I told you about when I went to the hospital last year? Well, I took care of it myself, because I'm not sure Shrimp could take the plunge on my behalf. I decided it was better to get my affairs in order medically like I have on my will. So I had the retirement home's administrator Helen draw me up an advanced directive that spells out my wishes. This way Seeley doesn't have to make any decisions, he just has to follow what it says here. I know he probably won't like it, but that's just the way I feel."
"Hank, I admire you for handling this yourself. An advanced directive doesn't mean you're declining all medical care and treatment, it just delineates how far you want EMT's and doctors to go when you start to have life-threatening issues. This will make things a lot easier for Booth, and Jared both."
"Well, I've read that CPR on us old foks just causes broken ribs and a lot of complications, so if things start to go south for me, I don't think I want some young strapping fellow pounding on my chest. And I don't want some doctor jamming a breathing tube down my throat if that's what it takes to keep me alive. Other than that, I'm fine with medications and such," Hank declared.
"Just be sure you have several copies on record with your doctor, in the retirement home's administrative offices, and with your will. You may want to put a copy in your wallet as well," Brennan said.
Hank hugged her. "Thanks for seeing this my way, Temperance. I'm glad Shrimp has a logical lady to lean on when things get dicey. You'll be a big comfort to him when it's time for me to go on. You may not buy into formal religion, but you are very spiritual in your own way, and I respect that. You've given my grandson a wonderful life and love I thought he might never find. His Gran and I had many years together, but you never get enough. I hope you two are around for each other for decades to come. Now let's stop this serious stuff and play some chess!"
Brennan bent to wipe the pudding off Christine's face, and clean her hands before unbuckling her from the stroller. She helped her daughter out of the seat and spread a blanket on the floor for her to sit on. Hank pulled the box of wooden blocks and Duplos pieces he'd kept in his closet for her to play with. He handed it to Brennan who placed it on the floor. Christine reached for it and promptly dumped its contents gleefully in front of her.
"That should keep her occupied for a little while. Let's see if I can't beat you, Bone Lady," Hank smiled.
"Oh, Hank, those are fighting words; I think this match will be mine to claim!" Brennan retorted.
A/N: I had originally planned to carry this story further, but the recent hospital stay of an older relative has squashed my appetite for writing any more medical crisis chapters at the moment, so I'm leaving Hank and Brennan to their pawns, bishops and queens for now. I apologize for the plot inconsistency errors I made in Chapter 2. Writing fragments of a story at someone's bedside wasn't the best idea I ever had.
