Wednesday, March 18, 2009

About Henry Binkley

About a week ago we arrived in Springfield to visit my father who was in St. John's Hospital. At that time he shared a room with another man: Henry Binkley of Bois d'Arc, Mo. Of the two men, my father looked the worst. Henry was up moving round, while my father was lying prone in his bed. Henry was in good spirits and wanted to go walking out in the hallway. He was talkative, and from looking at him you could not tell he had a medical problem. Henry told us he was suffering from congestive heart failure. It had been recommended to him that he go into hospice.

Shortly before we left the hospital that evening, Henry asked me to tie the strings at the back of his hospital gown. I did so, and that was the last I saw of him. He died that night in his bed next my father.

When he expired, he set off a monitering device of some kind, and the nurse came rushing into the room. She went to my father and check his vitals. My father said he felt all right. Then they checked on Henry and found him dead.

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