Mom was supposed to get out of the hospital today.
I say "supposed to" because there was another glitch. Her blood count is down to a little over 8 from over 10 yesterday.
Sigh.
What this means is she'll likely have to have another transfusion in the next day or so. Her leg is still bothering her and is very swollen, so we know the clot hasn't dissolved. Not that we'd expect it to in such a short time.
It would just be nice if she could catch a break once in a while.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
You Can't Win If You Don't Play
Mom has apparently won the lottery.
She told us so today.
She said she's been praying and praying for a way to pay for college for all five grandchildren, and today when she checked her ticket against the numbers in the newspaper, it happened. She couldn't believe it, so she checked it twice.
She won $32,000. Enough to pay for all the grandchildren's education, she said.
I only wish it was true.
Not only that she won the lottery, but that $32,000 would pay for all five to go all the way through school. She even wanted to pay off DIL's medical school bills, but didn't think she had enough for that.
Mom is a giver, and that's for certain. Even in her present state she thinks of everyone but herself. Even in her dreams.
She'll be released from the hospital tomorrow after almost eleven days' stay this time. Her feeding is going well and her pain is under control. The clot is still a danger, but she'll be on blood thinners until it doesn't pose such a threat. We can only hope and pray she doesn't have to come back to the hospital for more transfusions until the clot is history, but we know that's unlikely.
We're not exactly sure how much more time she has in rehab before she has to go on Medicare's Part B. We'll have to check with the rehab center to see. Right now we don't have a place for her other than the nursing home attached to the rehab center. While that is an option, it is also at least a twenty minute drive. That may not seem like it's so far away, but it really gets tiresome day after day.
I'll be looking at another place closer to home this week. I spoke with the social worker there today, and now all I have to do is find the time to go there. Sis is more inclined to leave Mom where she is so that she can work with the same doctors and therapists she's become used to. However, winter is coming. I'd feel better if we had Mom closer to home. It's something we need to decide together soon.
The main thing is that Mom is very well cared for and as happy as she can be in the situation and place where she lives. We can work out all the rest of it as it comes.
She told us so today.
She said she's been praying and praying for a way to pay for college for all five grandchildren, and today when she checked her ticket against the numbers in the newspaper, it happened. She couldn't believe it, so she checked it twice.
She won $32,000. Enough to pay for all the grandchildren's education, she said.
I only wish it was true.
Not only that she won the lottery, but that $32,000 would pay for all five to go all the way through school. She even wanted to pay off DIL's medical school bills, but didn't think she had enough for that.
Mom is a giver, and that's for certain. Even in her present state she thinks of everyone but herself. Even in her dreams.
She'll be released from the hospital tomorrow after almost eleven days' stay this time. Her feeding is going well and her pain is under control. The clot is still a danger, but she'll be on blood thinners until it doesn't pose such a threat. We can only hope and pray she doesn't have to come back to the hospital for more transfusions until the clot is history, but we know that's unlikely.
We're not exactly sure how much more time she has in rehab before she has to go on Medicare's Part B. We'll have to check with the rehab center to see. Right now we don't have a place for her other than the nursing home attached to the rehab center. While that is an option, it is also at least a twenty minute drive. That may not seem like it's so far away, but it really gets tiresome day after day.
I'll be looking at another place closer to home this week. I spoke with the social worker there today, and now all I have to do is find the time to go there. Sis is more inclined to leave Mom where she is so that she can work with the same doctors and therapists she's become used to. However, winter is coming. I'd feel better if we had Mom closer to home. It's something we need to decide together soon.
The main thing is that Mom is very well cared for and as happy as she can be in the situation and place where she lives. We can work out all the rest of it as it comes.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Watching And Waiting
I've been worried about Mom all day.
The tube is working well and they have begun feeding her through it, but she's having a hard time tolerating the pain she feels from the procedure to put it in. Since her pain tolerance is zero, even a little puts her over the top. The nurses have been good about pain meds, but understandably don't want to use them too much. Morphine can cause constipation, yet without it her blood pressure rises due to the pain. It's a fine line to walk.
Possibly because of the morphine or the dilantin or a host of other reasons, Mom has been having problems with strange dreams. She wakes up in the middle of them, thinking they're real. She's also having problems with repeating the same thing over and over and over. It's as if she gets stuck on a thought, like a scratch on a record, and can't get past it.
That last remark was for those of you who actually REMEMBER records and record players.
She also has a place on her lip that has caused her whole lower lip to swell to about twice the normal size. It was thought she might be allergic to some medication she was getting, so the doctor prescribed Benedryl for her.
It was a gift from God.
It did nothing for the swelling, but it knocked her out enough to where she could sleep. When we left at 10 p.m. she was out like a light, and had been for several hours.
Why were we there so late? Because we had other news today as well.
Mom has a blood clot.
Her left leg has been swelling abnormally. We mentioned it to the nurses a couple of times, but they always said it was because she wasn't getting good circulation due to being in bed all the time. They put the "squeezy thingies" on her legs to encourage circulation and left it at that. Yesterday I brought it to their attention again because the squeezy thingies were so tight on her left leg. It had swollen more. They removed the squeezy thingies to let her legs rest for a while, and put them back on later.
Then today the physical therapist came in. She was moving Mom's legs to keep them from stiffening up, and commented on the size of her left leg. She got the nurse to look at it and they both poked around it for a while. The nurse called Doc, who ordered a sonogram of the leg, and the clot was found.
It's in her thigh, and it's huge. It's long. Sis was there for the sonogram and told me it reached at least half of her thigh and maybe more. She now has to have blood thinners to let the blood in her leg circulate, which brings us full circle. If she has blood thinners she has gastric bleeds. If she doesn't, she has clots. Clots are life-threatening. Bleeding is life-threatening.
In other words, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't.
In the meantime, there's always a chance that part of the clot will break off and cause even more problems. So because I was worried, I went back to the hospital around 5:30 p.m., and Sis and I stayed there together until 10 p.m.
We trust that she's in His care, no matter what happens.
He can take the night watch. We'll be back tomorrow.
The tube is working well and they have begun feeding her through it, but she's having a hard time tolerating the pain she feels from the procedure to put it in. Since her pain tolerance is zero, even a little puts her over the top. The nurses have been good about pain meds, but understandably don't want to use them too much. Morphine can cause constipation, yet without it her blood pressure rises due to the pain. It's a fine line to walk.
Possibly because of the morphine or the dilantin or a host of other reasons, Mom has been having problems with strange dreams. She wakes up in the middle of them, thinking they're real. She's also having problems with repeating the same thing over and over and over. It's as if she gets stuck on a thought, like a scratch on a record, and can't get past it.
That last remark was for those of you who actually REMEMBER records and record players.
She also has a place on her lip that has caused her whole lower lip to swell to about twice the normal size. It was thought she might be allergic to some medication she was getting, so the doctor prescribed Benedryl for her.
It was a gift from God.
It did nothing for the swelling, but it knocked her out enough to where she could sleep. When we left at 10 p.m. she was out like a light, and had been for several hours.
Why were we there so late? Because we had other news today as well.
Mom has a blood clot.
Her left leg has been swelling abnormally. We mentioned it to the nurses a couple of times, but they always said it was because she wasn't getting good circulation due to being in bed all the time. They put the "squeezy thingies" on her legs to encourage circulation and left it at that. Yesterday I brought it to their attention again because the squeezy thingies were so tight on her left leg. It had swollen more. They removed the squeezy thingies to let her legs rest for a while, and put them back on later.
Then today the physical therapist came in. She was moving Mom's legs to keep them from stiffening up, and commented on the size of her left leg. She got the nurse to look at it and they both poked around it for a while. The nurse called Doc, who ordered a sonogram of the leg, and the clot was found.
It's in her thigh, and it's huge. It's long. Sis was there for the sonogram and told me it reached at least half of her thigh and maybe more. She now has to have blood thinners to let the blood in her leg circulate, which brings us full circle. If she has blood thinners she has gastric bleeds. If she doesn't, she has clots. Clots are life-threatening. Bleeding is life-threatening.
In other words, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't.
In the meantime, there's always a chance that part of the clot will break off and cause even more problems. So because I was worried, I went back to the hospital around 5:30 p.m., and Sis and I stayed there together until 10 p.m.
We trust that she's in His care, no matter what happens.
He can take the night watch. We'll be back tomorrow.
Friday, October 3, 2008
The IV League
Oh yes.
The title is courtesy of Sis, because that's what she spouted when she found out Mom now has two new IVs in her right arm rather than one in each arm. I was leaning toward "Because God Made The IV Line" (think old songs) but I'll save that one for later.
Because I'm sure we'll need it.
Mom's feeding tube is now in place. They are testing it today with water, and will begin feedings tomorrow, gradually building up the amount she gets hour by hour. Unfortunately, the GI department didn't call her down to have it put in until noon, then we had to wait even longer for them to take her back and actually do the procedure. I offered to stay today since Sis has missed more work than I have, so she wasn't there when we got back to the room around 3 p.m. She came by after work, after I'd already seen and gotten used to the look of the site and the tube.
When Sis first got a look at it, she said something akin to "Gee Mom, it looks like you're inflatable now..."
We were having one of those days.
Sis and I laugh. It's really what we do best together, other than take care of Mom. And we laugh at inside jokes, at quirks we both have, and with Mom. She's where we got our sense of humor.
As the nurse was working with Mom and listening to us giggle tonight, she told us how close she is with her sister. How they finish each other's sentences, how they are each other's best friend, how they can blow off steam with each other, how they love to do things together. Sis and I looked at each other and laughed some more.
"Yeah, NOT us at ALL," I said.
Thankfully, the nurse didn't take offense or order enemas for both of us. Although, come to think of it, it might have been funnier if she had.
She didn't realize how very different the two of us are. I like to think she couldn't see the differences because we work so well TOGETHER taking care of Mom. We both have the same heart in that regard. We both love Mom and want the best possible for her in all things.
And in my book, that makes us IV League as well.
The title is courtesy of Sis, because that's what she spouted when she found out Mom now has two new IVs in her right arm rather than one in each arm. I was leaning toward "Because God Made The IV Line" (think old songs) but I'll save that one for later.
Because I'm sure we'll need it.
Mom's feeding tube is now in place. They are testing it today with water, and will begin feedings tomorrow, gradually building up the amount she gets hour by hour. Unfortunately, the GI department didn't call her down to have it put in until noon, then we had to wait even longer for them to take her back and actually do the procedure. I offered to stay today since Sis has missed more work than I have, so she wasn't there when we got back to the room around 3 p.m. She came by after work, after I'd already seen and gotten used to the look of the site and the tube.
When Sis first got a look at it, she said something akin to "Gee Mom, it looks like you're inflatable now..."
We were having one of those days.
Sis and I laugh. It's really what we do best together, other than take care of Mom. And we laugh at inside jokes, at quirks we both have, and with Mom. She's where we got our sense of humor.
As the nurse was working with Mom and listening to us giggle tonight, she told us how close she is with her sister. How they finish each other's sentences, how they are each other's best friend, how they can blow off steam with each other, how they love to do things together. Sis and I looked at each other and laughed some more.
"Yeah, NOT us at ALL," I said.
Thankfully, the nurse didn't take offense or order enemas for both of us. Although, come to think of it, it might have been funnier if she had.
She didn't realize how very different the two of us are. I like to think she couldn't see the differences because we work so well TOGETHER taking care of Mom. We both have the same heart in that regard. We both love Mom and want the best possible for her in all things.
And in my book, that makes us IV League as well.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
A Hard Day's Night
Mom had a hard time sleeping last night because they chose the nighttime to run potassium again. If you've ever had potassium through an IV or know anyone who has, you know it stings like crazy the whole time it's going in, unless it goes in a PICC line. Since Mom doesn't have one of those this time, she got very little rest.
And since she got very little rest, she made up for it today.
She had a bad headache today along with various other aches, so the nurse was kind enough to give her some pain medicine. It worked so well that she slept until around 5 p.m., then woke up with the headache still there. More pain meds, and she was out until after I left the hospital.
Since she did not have the feeding tube placed today it will be placed early tomorrow morning. At least we hope it will be early, so Sis and I can see her through it before we go to work and then check in on her later. That will mean showing up at the crack of dawn to wait to be called.
Fun times.
At least Mom will be able to get nutrition instead of the PPN she's getting now. The poor woman has an IV in each arm, and it's hard for her to do much of anything without getting tangled up in tubing.
The neurologist said it may be a day or so before they try it out for medications and another day before they try it out for feeding. It will depend on what the GI doctor says. We're hoping everything will be smooth sailing and there will be no worries.
It would be a nice change of pace.
And since she got very little rest, she made up for it today.
She had a bad headache today along with various other aches, so the nurse was kind enough to give her some pain medicine. It worked so well that she slept until around 5 p.m., then woke up with the headache still there. More pain meds, and she was out until after I left the hospital.
Since she did not have the feeding tube placed today it will be placed early tomorrow morning. At least we hope it will be early, so Sis and I can see her through it before we go to work and then check in on her later. That will mean showing up at the crack of dawn to wait to be called.
Fun times.
At least Mom will be able to get nutrition instead of the PPN she's getting now. The poor woman has an IV in each arm, and it's hard for her to do much of anything without getting tangled up in tubing.
The neurologist said it may be a day or so before they try it out for medications and another day before they try it out for feeding. It will depend on what the GI doctor says. We're hoping everything will be smooth sailing and there will be no worries.
It would be a nice change of pace.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Down The Tube
Mom is having a feeding tube inserted tomorrow.
Doc talked with her about it, but she didn't seem too keen on the idea. Then the GI doctor came in while one of her friends was there visiting. He explained the procedure and told her it would not be as painful as the carotid surgery was. When she still balked at the idea, her friend stepped in and told her she had to do it because she'd starve to death otherwise.
So Mom agreed. It was as simple as that.
The neurologist stopped in this afternoon while Sis and I were both there. The MRI came back and we were extremely happy to hear that she did NOT suffer her second stroke. It seems the problems she's been having with staying awake are due to the anti-seizure medication, which was too highly concentrated in her body. The medication was stopped for today and they will do another test tomorrow to see what the level is before they begin it again at a lower dosage. He also seemed confident that she would be able to re-learn how to swallow, and that the feeding tube would be temporary.
I wish I was that confident.
The medication is also one of the reasons she has been so wacky lately, other than the fact that she's just getting over two seizures. The dementia is much worse than before. Today she was worried about not having dinner ready for her Bunco group tonight, and had to be told over and over that it was being taken care of by someone else. She had bread in the oven that needed taking out. She cooked a roast beef dinner, but didn't have time to make hot rolls. And she was bound and determined that there was a pair of scissors in her bed that I could use to cut off her identification wristband.
She is very restless, pulling her covers off almost as soon as they're straightened. Then she complains she's cold, so the covers are put on again. Then she complains she's hot, so off they come. It's an endless cycle. She wants things moved to the closet, then wants them back on the shelf. She keeps trying to remove the protective padding over the rails on her bed until she is told why it's there. Then she leaves it alone until the next round.
My hopes are not high that this part will improve. We've been disappointed in this area too many times for me to hope again, so I'll just accept what comes along.
Doc talked with her about it, but she didn't seem too keen on the idea. Then the GI doctor came in while one of her friends was there visiting. He explained the procedure and told her it would not be as painful as the carotid surgery was. When she still balked at the idea, her friend stepped in and told her she had to do it because she'd starve to death otherwise.
So Mom agreed. It was as simple as that.
The neurologist stopped in this afternoon while Sis and I were both there. The MRI came back and we were extremely happy to hear that she did NOT suffer her second stroke. It seems the problems she's been having with staying awake are due to the anti-seizure medication, which was too highly concentrated in her body. The medication was stopped for today and they will do another test tomorrow to see what the level is before they begin it again at a lower dosage. He also seemed confident that she would be able to re-learn how to swallow, and that the feeding tube would be temporary.
I wish I was that confident.
The medication is also one of the reasons she has been so wacky lately, other than the fact that she's just getting over two seizures. The dementia is much worse than before. Today she was worried about not having dinner ready for her Bunco group tonight, and had to be told over and over that it was being taken care of by someone else. She had bread in the oven that needed taking out. She cooked a roast beef dinner, but didn't have time to make hot rolls. And she was bound and determined that there was a pair of scissors in her bed that I could use to cut off her identification wristband.
She is very restless, pulling her covers off almost as soon as they're straightened. Then she complains she's cold, so the covers are put on again. Then she complains she's hot, so off they come. It's an endless cycle. She wants things moved to the closet, then wants them back on the shelf. She keeps trying to remove the protective padding over the rails on her bed until she is told why it's there. Then she leaves it alone until the next round.
My hopes are not high that this part will improve. We've been disappointed in this area too many times for me to hope again, so I'll just accept what comes along.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Hi, My Name Is Laura, And This Is My Other Sister Laura
It was not a good day or evening at the hospital.
Sis was with Mom most of the day while I was at work. Mom, however, was still in the mostly-asleep-only-sometimes-awake mode she's been in the past couple of days. She's not talking in her sleep as much, but she is still very, very confused.
I walked in tonight to take over from Sis and told Mom I loved her as I bent to give her a kiss. She grabbed my hand and in a very plain voice, said, "I love you, too, Laura."
It hit me off-guard, that one did. Somehow I always thought she'd know ME, her firstborn. ME, the one she could always count on for help. ME, the one who would fight her battles with utility companies and slay her dragons. After all, it was ME.
Not Laura. I don't even know who Laura is. Neither does she.
And then she turned to Sis. I asked her who Sis was, and she answered the same way, "Laura." Apparently Sis and I are now twins in that we're both named Laura.
Sis went home after we spoke about doctors and such, and promised to come back up later so I could get home at a reasonable hour. After she left, the neurologist came in. I explained to him that Mom was asleep much of the time still, and her confusion seemed to be worse than it ever had. I told him about her talking in her sleep, the random thoughts out of nowhere, the fact that she didn't recognize me or Sis earlier. He said it was very unusual for the anti-seizure medication to cause those symptoms this far out from the seizure, and he suspected there might have been another stroke.
Just what we needed to hear.
He ordered an MRI, but it hadn't been done as of the time I left. If it is another stroke, plans for her recovery will change. As of today she failed another swallow test as well as a video swallow test, so we know that there will be long-term consequences from that. Whether she will have to have a feeding tube inserted or whether she will be able to learn to swallow again is up in the air. With her mental status as it is now, learning to swallow again is unlikely.
In the meantime, the hunt for nursing homes is on again. I made another visit to the one I was at first impressed with over the weekend, and found it to be lacking in a big way. Another I will look at is full and has a waiting list. The one attached to the rehab center will likely be where she goes following this hospital stay, as we don't think she'll qualify for rehab anymore.
My mother, the person I knew and loved before the stroke, would rather die than be the person she is today. My mother, the person I know and love today, still wants to live.
How do I reconcile the two?
Sis was with Mom most of the day while I was at work. Mom, however, was still in the mostly-asleep-only-sometimes-awake mode she's been in the past couple of days. She's not talking in her sleep as much, but she is still very, very confused.
I walked in tonight to take over from Sis and told Mom I loved her as I bent to give her a kiss. She grabbed my hand and in a very plain voice, said, "I love you, too, Laura."
It hit me off-guard, that one did. Somehow I always thought she'd know ME, her firstborn. ME, the one she could always count on for help. ME, the one who would fight her battles with utility companies and slay her dragons. After all, it was ME.
Not Laura. I don't even know who Laura is. Neither does she.
And then she turned to Sis. I asked her who Sis was, and she answered the same way, "Laura." Apparently Sis and I are now twins in that we're both named Laura.
Sis went home after we spoke about doctors and such, and promised to come back up later so I could get home at a reasonable hour. After she left, the neurologist came in. I explained to him that Mom was asleep much of the time still, and her confusion seemed to be worse than it ever had. I told him about her talking in her sleep, the random thoughts out of nowhere, the fact that she didn't recognize me or Sis earlier. He said it was very unusual for the anti-seizure medication to cause those symptoms this far out from the seizure, and he suspected there might have been another stroke.
Just what we needed to hear.
He ordered an MRI, but it hadn't been done as of the time I left. If it is another stroke, plans for her recovery will change. As of today she failed another swallow test as well as a video swallow test, so we know that there will be long-term consequences from that. Whether she will have to have a feeding tube inserted or whether she will be able to learn to swallow again is up in the air. With her mental status as it is now, learning to swallow again is unlikely.
In the meantime, the hunt for nursing homes is on again. I made another visit to the one I was at first impressed with over the weekend, and found it to be lacking in a big way. Another I will look at is full and has a waiting list. The one attached to the rehab center will likely be where she goes following this hospital stay, as we don't think she'll qualify for rehab anymore.
My mother, the person I knew and loved before the stroke, would rather die than be the person she is today. My mother, the person I know and love today, still wants to live.
How do I reconcile the two?
Monday, September 29, 2008
Back To The ER, Back To The ER, Back To The ER Again
Yesterday I received a call at 6:30 a.m. It was the rehab center.
Mom had suffered a seizure while they were getting her dressed for breakfast. They'd called an ambulance and were taking her to the hospital. I called Sis, got dressed and headed to the ER.
It's become a too familiar place for us to be.
Half an hour later the ambulance showed up. We met it, assured Mom we were there and that we loved her, and left the experts to their work.
But things were different this time.
It took a much longer time than usual for anyone to let us know what was going on, and when they did they told us the doctor would meet us in the waiting room. That's never happened before. We've always met the doctor back in the ER after the initial look-over. We were worried.
Eventually the doctor came out and spoke with us. It seemed Mom had suffered another seizure when she arrived at the ER, and they were getting her stabilized. It would be a few more minutes before we were allowed back.
When we were finally allowed to see her, she had been given anti-seizure drugs and was completely out of it. She remained that way for the rest of the day, except for telling us she hurt in various places. Her legs kept cramping up, and her back hurt most of the day. The doctor prescribed morphine for her pain and we let her sleep.
Today she was more awake. They found her potassium was extremely low, so she was started on that. They ran tests, including an EEG and a swallow test. She failed the swallow test miserably, choking on applesauce. She is not allowed to have anything by mouth until she is more alert and can be tested again, hopefully with better results.
In the meantime, her blood pressure is very high, tonight reading at 174/104. Scary numbers. She's doing a lot of talking in her sleep about strange things. I don't know if the drugs are causing it or if it's something else, but I really don't know anyone named Cassandra and I haven't been invited to her coming-out party, so I don't believe I have to buy her a gift even if Mom thinks so. And I think we can wait to buy the Easter baskets until closer to Easter.
So we're back at the hospital for an undetermined length of stay.
Last night was another Every So Often Bawl, and I don't mean we danced. Sis and I are getting to the point where a breakdown is almost a certainty, whether it's one like I had last night or one of the nervous breakdown variety. Mom is so precious to us, yet we hate to see this happen to her day after day, time after time.
We want Mom to be free of all this pain, all this seemingly unnecessary suffering she's going through. But God knows better than we do what is best, so we'll trust His judgement and keep on keeping on.
Mom had suffered a seizure while they were getting her dressed for breakfast. They'd called an ambulance and were taking her to the hospital. I called Sis, got dressed and headed to the ER.
It's become a too familiar place for us to be.
Half an hour later the ambulance showed up. We met it, assured Mom we were there and that we loved her, and left the experts to their work.
But things were different this time.
It took a much longer time than usual for anyone to let us know what was going on, and when they did they told us the doctor would meet us in the waiting room. That's never happened before. We've always met the doctor back in the ER after the initial look-over. We were worried.
Eventually the doctor came out and spoke with us. It seemed Mom had suffered another seizure when she arrived at the ER, and they were getting her stabilized. It would be a few more minutes before we were allowed back.
When we were finally allowed to see her, she had been given anti-seizure drugs and was completely out of it. She remained that way for the rest of the day, except for telling us she hurt in various places. Her legs kept cramping up, and her back hurt most of the day. The doctor prescribed morphine for her pain and we let her sleep.
Today she was more awake. They found her potassium was extremely low, so she was started on that. They ran tests, including an EEG and a swallow test. She failed the swallow test miserably, choking on applesauce. She is not allowed to have anything by mouth until she is more alert and can be tested again, hopefully with better results.
In the meantime, her blood pressure is very high, tonight reading at 174/104. Scary numbers. She's doing a lot of talking in her sleep about strange things. I don't know if the drugs are causing it or if it's something else, but I really don't know anyone named Cassandra and I haven't been invited to her coming-out party, so I don't believe I have to buy her a gift even if Mom thinks so. And I think we can wait to buy the Easter baskets until closer to Easter.
So we're back at the hospital for an undetermined length of stay.
Last night was another Every So Often Bawl, and I don't mean we danced. Sis and I are getting to the point where a breakdown is almost a certainty, whether it's one like I had last night or one of the nervous breakdown variety. Mom is so precious to us, yet we hate to see this happen to her day after day, time after time.
We want Mom to be free of all this pain, all this seemingly unnecessary suffering she's going through. But God knows better than we do what is best, so we'll trust His judgement and keep on keeping on.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Room 413 And Lionel, Who Isn't A Train
Mom is back at the rehab center, safely ensconced in room 413. Room 413 is old hat to us. It's a private room they use for patients with communicable disease. In Mom's case, C Diff.
They've hired a new aide in our absence, one we know will do a wonderful job. His name is Lionel, and he's the epitome of what you want an aide to be. He is polite, courteous and gentle, yet strong enough to handle Mom's weakness. He took care of her last night, her first night back.
When I arrived at the rehab center after work today I was greeted as I am almost every day nowadays by Mom. Not with "Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" or "Where've you been? I've been waiting for you all day!" but with "My butt hurts." And not once, but at least fifteen times before I suggested we go back to her room and put her to bed. It seemed to be all she could focus on.
So we had a talk. Because Sis and I have become extremely weary of the dead horse Mom beats over and over and over again.
I reminded her of all the migraines she used to have and how she never let out a peep. About the horrible cramps she had every month that she never complained about. And I told her she needed to come up with some of that strength now, to try to stop telling us so much about her bottom woes. I told her there was nothing on earth we could do to make it better for her, and hearing her constant moaning and repeating of how much her behind hurt was hurting us since we were so helpless to help her. I reminded her that when the aide came in to get her ready for bed he had cleaned her up and she hadn't complained at all, so I knew she could do it.
The nurses have told us that when we aren't there she does just fine. But let us show up, and the floodgates of complaining open and open wide. It's kind of like a little child playing one parent against the other in a way. Except in this case, Sis and I are up to here (lifting hand above head) with it.
Lionel caught on right away. Mom tried the complaining with him, but got nowhere. He asked her if all the complaining made her feel any better. She told him no, it didn't. So he asked her why she was still doing it.
He said she quit right after that.
God bless Lionel. He can run on my track any time.
They've hired a new aide in our absence, one we know will do a wonderful job. His name is Lionel, and he's the epitome of what you want an aide to be. He is polite, courteous and gentle, yet strong enough to handle Mom's weakness. He took care of her last night, her first night back.
When I arrived at the rehab center after work today I was greeted as I am almost every day nowadays by Mom. Not with "Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" or "Where've you been? I've been waiting for you all day!" but with "My butt hurts." And not once, but at least fifteen times before I suggested we go back to her room and put her to bed. It seemed to be all she could focus on.
So we had a talk. Because Sis and I have become extremely weary of the dead horse Mom beats over and over and over again.
I reminded her of all the migraines she used to have and how she never let out a peep. About the horrible cramps she had every month that she never complained about. And I told her she needed to come up with some of that strength now, to try to stop telling us so much about her bottom woes. I told her there was nothing on earth we could do to make it better for her, and hearing her constant moaning and repeating of how much her behind hurt was hurting us since we were so helpless to help her. I reminded her that when the aide came in to get her ready for bed he had cleaned her up and she hadn't complained at all, so I knew she could do it.
The nurses have told us that when we aren't there she does just fine. But let us show up, and the floodgates of complaining open and open wide. It's kind of like a little child playing one parent against the other in a way. Except in this case, Sis and I are up to here (lifting hand above head) with it.
Lionel caught on right away. Mom tried the complaining with him, but got nowhere. He asked her if all the complaining made her feel any better. She told him no, it didn't. So he asked her why she was still doing it.
He said she quit right after that.
God bless Lionel. He can run on my track any time.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Counting Chickens Is Not Such A Good Idea
Mom was NOT released from the hospital today. Instead, she was given two more pints of blood.
It seems as though her hemoglobin dropped to 8.5. The same hemoglobin that supposedly was remaining stable at over 10. Which meant that even though all the blood thinners had been stopped, she was still bleeding internally.
Sis and I determined we were going to have to talk her into having the colonoscopy. The previous test they'd done showed the bleeding was coming from somewhere below her ribcage. She was refusing the colonoscopy due to the prep and all of the cleanup her already raw bottom would have to take. Then a helpful nurse suggested something called a rectal tube.
Supposedly this tube could be inserted to catch the output and save Mom from the cleanup problems. While it might be a bit uncomfortable, it would keep her skin from further damage, and that's what she worried most about.
I reasoned with her. I explained we didn't want to have to keep taking her back to the hospital and exposing her to C Diff every other week if we didn't have to. I wheedled a little. I bargained. I cajoled. And I almost had her talked into it. Almost. She wanted Sis to weigh in on it tomorrow morning before she made her final decision.
And then.
On the way home I called Sis to report the evening's happenings. I told her we were almost a shoe-in for the colonoscopy. And she told me something as well.
Mom's hemoglobin had gone up .6 points before they ever started the first pint of blood. Which meant she had stopped bleeding. Which meant all my cajoling was in vain.
While I was perturbed to have spent all that time talking Mom into something that wasn't going to happen, I couldn't have been happier. To think she might actually be free of the internal bleeding for the first time since the stroke is somewhat unbelievable. So unbelievable in fact, that I think I'll have to reserve judgment on that for a few weeks.
I'm from Missouri. So show me.
Mom was depressed and upset today. She's had it with all this and just wants to go home. I don't blame her one bit, and I truly wish she could do just that. Unfortunately, that may never happen again. She can't afford the round-the-clock care it would take, and neither can we.
In a perfect world, we'd buy a different house with a walk-out apartment on the lower level where Mom could feel like she had some independence. We'd have someone in while we were at work to keep her company and meet her needs, maybe even someone to live with her permanently in her little apartment. She could decorate it the way she wanted, have friends over, and do all the things she'd do in her own home, but with help just a few steps away.
But those are just dreams.
We're not counting those chickens now. Or probably ever.
It seems as though her hemoglobin dropped to 8.5. The same hemoglobin that supposedly was remaining stable at over 10. Which meant that even though all the blood thinners had been stopped, she was still bleeding internally.
Sis and I determined we were going to have to talk her into having the colonoscopy. The previous test they'd done showed the bleeding was coming from somewhere below her ribcage. She was refusing the colonoscopy due to the prep and all of the cleanup her already raw bottom would have to take. Then a helpful nurse suggested something called a rectal tube.
Supposedly this tube could be inserted to catch the output and save Mom from the cleanup problems. While it might be a bit uncomfortable, it would keep her skin from further damage, and that's what she worried most about.
I reasoned with her. I explained we didn't want to have to keep taking her back to the hospital and exposing her to C Diff every other week if we didn't have to. I wheedled a little. I bargained. I cajoled. And I almost had her talked into it. Almost. She wanted Sis to weigh in on it tomorrow morning before she made her final decision.
And then.
On the way home I called Sis to report the evening's happenings. I told her we were almost a shoe-in for the colonoscopy. And she told me something as well.
Mom's hemoglobin had gone up .6 points before they ever started the first pint of blood. Which meant she had stopped bleeding. Which meant all my cajoling was in vain.
While I was perturbed to have spent all that time talking Mom into something that wasn't going to happen, I couldn't have been happier. To think she might actually be free of the internal bleeding for the first time since the stroke is somewhat unbelievable. So unbelievable in fact, that I think I'll have to reserve judgment on that for a few weeks.
I'm from Missouri. So show me.
Mom was depressed and upset today. She's had it with all this and just wants to go home. I don't blame her one bit, and I truly wish she could do just that. Unfortunately, that may never happen again. She can't afford the round-the-clock care it would take, and neither can we.
In a perfect world, we'd buy a different house with a walk-out apartment on the lower level where Mom could feel like she had some independence. We'd have someone in while we were at work to keep her company and meet her needs, maybe even someone to live with her permanently in her little apartment. She could decorate it the way she wanted, have friends over, and do all the things she'd do in her own home, but with help just a few steps away.
But those are just dreams.
We're not counting those chickens now. Or probably ever.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
So Long, Farewell
Mom is leaving the hospital tomorrow.
She is permanently off of the Plavix. The cardiologist and Doc have been talking, and both have decided that one aspirin a day is all she needs to keep her blood thin enough to guard against heart attack or stroke. Her hemoglobin has stayed above ten since the Plavix has been gone, so we know that was the culprit in the case of the internal bleeding. We're hoping the aspirin doesn't have to go as well.
The C Diff is another story.
It's evil.
Mom is a pooping machine, and that machine seems to be able to put out veritable mountains of product. And each and every of the many times a day it happens it's as if her bottom is being burned by acid - which it is, in a way. Until this clears up she will have to suffer through many, many times of being cleaned up, and each of those times is agony for her.
On a lighter note, she has discovered the wonders of morphine. After particularly grueling sessions of being cleaned up in the hospital she has asked for and gotten her pain relieved. Since she has a PICC line rather than a traditional IV, the nurses can push the morphine in fast without worrying if it hurts her or not. Mom loves the fact that it works right away and that it lets her sleep for a couple of hours.
My mother, the junkie. :>)
Seriously, if it makes her feel better I'm all for it. She's suffered enough for a lifetime these past months.
Sis and I talked today about her return to rehab and after. During this last stay we've had to face some hard facts. One is that Mom is never going to be able to live in assisted living. That was the hardest decision for me. I wanted so much more for her than living out her life in a nursing home. However, with her mental and physical limitations there is no way she would qualify to live in any assisted living center. Doc confirmed that today to Sis.
Today is the first time I've been able to say that out loud and accept it.
Another thing we discussed is the closing down of her house. It took me a while to get to the point where I was ready to clean out the freezer and the kitchen cabinets, but I'm there. Now that I'm there I'm ready to begin to tackle the rest of the house as well. Not closing it altogether, but deciding the price things should sell for, then purchasing what we want from the house before we sell the rest. Of course, the family heirlooms will be divided between us.
But we both aren't there yet. Sis is the one that's OK with cleaning out the cabinets and freezer, but she's not able to go further yet. And truth be told, when we get into the actual sorting through things I may not be there as much as I think I am now.
It's hard to let go of a lifetime of concrete objects and have them become mere memories. It's hard to let go of what was and embrace what is. It's such a cruel, painful thing to have to let go of not only the places and things you loved, but the person you knew and loved who made it all what it was.
It's just hard.
She is permanently off of the Plavix. The cardiologist and Doc have been talking, and both have decided that one aspirin a day is all she needs to keep her blood thin enough to guard against heart attack or stroke. Her hemoglobin has stayed above ten since the Plavix has been gone, so we know that was the culprit in the case of the internal bleeding. We're hoping the aspirin doesn't have to go as well.
The C Diff is another story.
It's evil.
Mom is a pooping machine, and that machine seems to be able to put out veritable mountains of product. And each and every of the many times a day it happens it's as if her bottom is being burned by acid - which it is, in a way. Until this clears up she will have to suffer through many, many times of being cleaned up, and each of those times is agony for her.
On a lighter note, she has discovered the wonders of morphine. After particularly grueling sessions of being cleaned up in the hospital she has asked for and gotten her pain relieved. Since she has a PICC line rather than a traditional IV, the nurses can push the morphine in fast without worrying if it hurts her or not. Mom loves the fact that it works right away and that it lets her sleep for a couple of hours.
My mother, the junkie. :>)
Seriously, if it makes her feel better I'm all for it. She's suffered enough for a lifetime these past months.
Sis and I talked today about her return to rehab and after. During this last stay we've had to face some hard facts. One is that Mom is never going to be able to live in assisted living. That was the hardest decision for me. I wanted so much more for her than living out her life in a nursing home. However, with her mental and physical limitations there is no way she would qualify to live in any assisted living center. Doc confirmed that today to Sis.
Today is the first time I've been able to say that out loud and accept it.
Another thing we discussed is the closing down of her house. It took me a while to get to the point where I was ready to clean out the freezer and the kitchen cabinets, but I'm there. Now that I'm there I'm ready to begin to tackle the rest of the house as well. Not closing it altogether, but deciding the price things should sell for, then purchasing what we want from the house before we sell the rest. Of course, the family heirlooms will be divided between us.
But we both aren't there yet. Sis is the one that's OK with cleaning out the cabinets and freezer, but she's not able to go further yet. And truth be told, when we get into the actual sorting through things I may not be there as much as I think I am now.
It's hard to let go of a lifetime of concrete objects and have them become mere memories. It's hard to let go of what was and embrace what is. It's such a cruel, painful thing to have to let go of not only the places and things you loved, but the person you knew and loved who made it all what it was.
It's just hard.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Not Today, But Maybe Tomorrow...Or Not
Mom is still in the hospital.
Doc did not call today. I overslept and called the hospital to find this out.
BAD DOC. SHAME ON YOU.
She has been removed from the Plavix, but still seems to be bleeding internally. What they know from yesterday's test is that it's somewhere from the ribcage down. The GI doc wants to do another colonoscopy, but we've been down this road before. Once she's taken off of the blood thinners, the bleeding stops and they can never find anything. And if they do find something and start her back on the Plavix again, who's to say it won't break through in some other place and have her back in the same situation all over again?
Frustration runs high.
In the end it's Mom's decision. She's pooping like a banshee on Ex-Lax overdose now due to the C Diff, so the only difference would be the cramping that goes along with the laxative and the inability to eat. However, she doesn't want to eat anything anyway because she doesn't want to poop.
Again, it's her call.
We'll be there to support her either way.
Doc did not call today. I overslept and called the hospital to find this out.
BAD DOC. SHAME ON YOU.
She has been removed from the Plavix, but still seems to be bleeding internally. What they know from yesterday's test is that it's somewhere from the ribcage down. The GI doc wants to do another colonoscopy, but we've been down this road before. Once she's taken off of the blood thinners, the bleeding stops and they can never find anything. And if they do find something and start her back on the Plavix again, who's to say it won't break through in some other place and have her back in the same situation all over again?
Frustration runs high.
In the end it's Mom's decision. She's pooping like a banshee on Ex-Lax overdose now due to the C Diff, so the only difference would be the cramping that goes along with the laxative and the inability to eat. However, she doesn't want to eat anything anyway because she doesn't want to poop.
Again, it's her call.
We'll be there to support her either way.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I Have Some Good News, And Some Bad News
Mom has C Diff again.
I'm thinking I hear a collective groan from the readership as I write this. Kind of like the groan we let out when we found out today that the test was positive. Blood in her stool and C Diff.
Same song, 1,345th verse.
Her heart rate has decreased since the transfusion, which is a good thing. They were also able to start her on Flagyl immediately for the C Diff rather than waiting a couple of weeks like they did last time. Another good thing. They did a test today with radioactive dye to try to tell where she was bleeding out, but we don't have the results of it back yet. Her congestion sounds better and the perturbing stories were gone. Again, good.
I spoke with Doc today and let him know that Sis and I would like her taken off of even the Plavix. If blood thinners are going to cause her to be going back and forth to the hospital every few days with GI bleeding, they aren't worth it. The quality of life Mom has now is almost none due to her constant hospitalizations. If we take her off of all blood thinners we risk her having a massive heart attack, yes, but at least she has a chance of LIVING the life she has left instead of living through it.
Amazingly, Doc seemed to see where we were coming from on this one. He'll see Mom in the morning again to see how her bleeding is, and then he promised to give me a call at home to let me in on the game plan. I may have to be awake at dawn thirty, but I don't have to get up and be dressed to talk.
And that's a good thing, too.
I'm thinking I hear a collective groan from the readership as I write this. Kind of like the groan we let out when we found out today that the test was positive. Blood in her stool and C Diff.
Same song, 1,345th verse.
Her heart rate has decreased since the transfusion, which is a good thing. They were also able to start her on Flagyl immediately for the C Diff rather than waiting a couple of weeks like they did last time. Another good thing. They did a test today with radioactive dye to try to tell where she was bleeding out, but we don't have the results of it back yet. Her congestion sounds better and the perturbing stories were gone. Again, good.
I spoke with Doc today and let him know that Sis and I would like her taken off of even the Plavix. If blood thinners are going to cause her to be going back and forth to the hospital every few days with GI bleeding, they aren't worth it. The quality of life Mom has now is almost none due to her constant hospitalizations. If we take her off of all blood thinners we risk her having a massive heart attack, yes, but at least she has a chance of LIVING the life she has left instead of living through it.
Amazingly, Doc seemed to see where we were coming from on this one. He'll see Mom in the morning again to see how her bleeding is, and then he promised to give me a call at home to let me in on the game plan. I may have to be awake at dawn thirty, but I don't have to get up and be dressed to talk.
And that's a good thing, too.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
There Are Good Days, And Then There Was Today
Mom is bleeding internally again.
We know this because she's putting out black stool every hour and because her hemoglobin has dropped to 8. She's getting two more pints of blood by transfusion tonight.
She's also been coughing up some stuff, but the chest x-ray is clear as of tonight. However, her heart is another story. It's enlarged and beating anywhere from 110 to 120 times per minute. Way faster than it should be beating. Her blood pressure is within acceptable range, 110/60, but she's running a slight fever of 101.
Add to that the fact that she's talking completely out of her head, and you've got us worried.
She's come up with several different stories in her mind today, none of which are pleasant, and all of which she believed were true. The lower her hemoglobin goes and the more her behind hurts, the worse her mind gets. She should be better after the transfusion tomorrow, but she had a pretty miserable day and evening tonight. It tired Sis out this afternoon, and it wore me slick when I took over the evening shift. Around 9:30 p.m. Mom got so riled up and agitated that the nurse on duty finally gave her some morphine to calm her down and help her with the pain from her behind since she wasn't due for more pain pills for another thirty minutes.
I rose up right there and called her blessed.
And then I went home to see what my house and family look like.
We know this because she's putting out black stool every hour and because her hemoglobin has dropped to 8. She's getting two more pints of blood by transfusion tonight.
She's also been coughing up some stuff, but the chest x-ray is clear as of tonight. However, her heart is another story. It's enlarged and beating anywhere from 110 to 120 times per minute. Way faster than it should be beating. Her blood pressure is within acceptable range, 110/60, but she's running a slight fever of 101.
Add to that the fact that she's talking completely out of her head, and you've got us worried.
She's come up with several different stories in her mind today, none of which are pleasant, and all of which she believed were true. The lower her hemoglobin goes and the more her behind hurts, the worse her mind gets. She should be better after the transfusion tomorrow, but she had a pretty miserable day and evening tonight. It tired Sis out this afternoon, and it wore me slick when I took over the evening shift. Around 9:30 p.m. Mom got so riled up and agitated that the nurse on duty finally gave her some morphine to calm her down and help her with the pain from her behind since she wasn't due for more pain pills for another thirty minutes.
I rose up right there and called her blessed.
And then I went home to see what my house and family look like.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Room With A View Instead Of ICU
Room 617.
Ah, the 6th floor. It's become our home away from home at the hospital. Only this time instead of being in room 604 or 605, we've switched hallways and graduated to room 617.
To let you know how often we've been on the 6th floor in the past three months, I can tell you that they finally have new chairs in the rooms for friends and family. These chairs are actually COMFORTABLE to sit in, unlike the plastic-ish let-me-torture-your-backside chairs that were there before. A person might actually enjoy sitting in these chairs.
And I knew they were new. Imagine that.
Mom's low blood pressure is again a concern, which is why they have her on the telemetry unit. She keeps saying her heart is wearing out, but it keeps on beating as far as we can tell. The incision site looks good. No oozing of any kind, and they've taken all bandages off of it now. The swelling is much, much less than before, although it's still very noticeable. Her voice is still really scratchy and deep from the vent tube, but that should improve in the next few days.
I spoke with the surgeon's nurse-practitioner today. She was the one who released Mom to the regular room. I asked how long the increased stroke symptoms could last, and she told me it could be as long as 6-8 weeks. She said she hoped there would be some improvement in the next couple of weeks, but she couldn't promise anything, especially given the rough time Mom had with the surgery.
Mom has been insisting she is making dinner for the family. She's having steak soup and homemade bread, and she's been making the soup all day today. She also baked the bread, and had Sis call me from the hospital to be sure I took it out of the oven before it burned. She wanted to hurry and finish her dinner tonight because she had to go to Panera to pick up a bread bowl for my nephew, who is a vegetarian and who will have cheese soup instead.
It's amazing what you can accomplish from a hospital bed when you put your mind to it. And what's even more amazing is that even in the state she's in right now, the uppermost thought in her mind is how she can serve her family. Not her garden, not a television show, not the house or anything else. She wants to do for those people she loves the most.
That's my Mom.
And I love her.
Ah, the 6th floor. It's become our home away from home at the hospital. Only this time instead of being in room 604 or 605, we've switched hallways and graduated to room 617.
To let you know how often we've been on the 6th floor in the past three months, I can tell you that they finally have new chairs in the rooms for friends and family. These chairs are actually COMFORTABLE to sit in, unlike the plastic-ish let-me-torture-your-backside chairs that were there before. A person might actually enjoy sitting in these chairs.
And I knew they were new. Imagine that.
Mom's low blood pressure is again a concern, which is why they have her on the telemetry unit. She keeps saying her heart is wearing out, but it keeps on beating as far as we can tell. The incision site looks good. No oozing of any kind, and they've taken all bandages off of it now. The swelling is much, much less than before, although it's still very noticeable. Her voice is still really scratchy and deep from the vent tube, but that should improve in the next few days.
I spoke with the surgeon's nurse-practitioner today. She was the one who released Mom to the regular room. I asked how long the increased stroke symptoms could last, and she told me it could be as long as 6-8 weeks. She said she hoped there would be some improvement in the next couple of weeks, but she couldn't promise anything, especially given the rough time Mom had with the surgery.
Mom has been insisting she is making dinner for the family. She's having steak soup and homemade bread, and she's been making the soup all day today. She also baked the bread, and had Sis call me from the hospital to be sure I took it out of the oven before it burned. She wanted to hurry and finish her dinner tonight because she had to go to Panera to pick up a bread bowl for my nephew, who is a vegetarian and who will have cheese soup instead.
It's amazing what you can accomplish from a hospital bed when you put your mind to it. And what's even more amazing is that even in the state she's in right now, the uppermost thought in her mind is how she can serve her family. Not her garden, not a television show, not the house or anything else. She wants to do for those people she loves the most.
That's my Mom.
And I love her.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Mom is being moved to a regular room sometime today if the surgeon signs off on it.
We're both glad and fearful at the same time. Glad, because it means she's that much closer to going back to rehab and eventually settling in her new home. Fearful, because it seems some things have changed.
Oh, we were warned. We were told that the symptoms of her stroke would worsen and that it would be temporary. The thing is, we don't know HOW temporary. A week? A month? This is something we need to find out from the surgeon, as well as possibly getting another brain scan to see if indeed she did have another stroke during the after-surgery problems.
The problems she's having now have to do with memory and speech. Her speech is slurred, much more than it was before. The nurses also say she is having problems swallowing again. But the worst problem is her memory.
She thinks she and Dad are still married.
They've been divorced since 1999.
She asked Sis yesterday where Dad was. When Sis told her he was out of town, she said that was typical of him. Let her be in the hospital, and he takes off on a trip!
Sis may or may not have struggled to keep a straight face with that one.
So today she'll be moved, and we'll work through all of this to see what tomorrow will bring. Hopefully more clearness, both in speech and memory. Hopefully better swallowing ability. Certainly there's more circulation.
I can't wait to see what happens when we do this next time.
We're both glad and fearful at the same time. Glad, because it means she's that much closer to going back to rehab and eventually settling in her new home. Fearful, because it seems some things have changed.
Oh, we were warned. We were told that the symptoms of her stroke would worsen and that it would be temporary. The thing is, we don't know HOW temporary. A week? A month? This is something we need to find out from the surgeon, as well as possibly getting another brain scan to see if indeed she did have another stroke during the after-surgery problems.
The problems she's having now have to do with memory and speech. Her speech is slurred, much more than it was before. The nurses also say she is having problems swallowing again. But the worst problem is her memory.
She thinks she and Dad are still married.
They've been divorced since 1999.
She asked Sis yesterday where Dad was. When Sis told her he was out of town, she said that was typical of him. Let her be in the hospital, and he takes off on a trip!
Sis may or may not have struggled to keep a straight face with that one.
So today she'll be moved, and we'll work through all of this to see what tomorrow will bring. Hopefully more clearness, both in speech and memory. Hopefully better swallowing ability. Certainly there's more circulation.
I can't wait to see what happens when we do this next time.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Breathing Easier
Mom was taken off of the vent today.
She is breathing well on her own, and just as predicted, her blood pressure has come back up.
Thanks to the marvels of modern pharmacology she is still feeling no pain and is resting comfortably. She will likely remain in ICU for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow.
More updates later!
She is breathing well on her own, and just as predicted, her blood pressure has come back up.
Thanks to the marvels of modern pharmacology she is still feeling no pain and is resting comfortably. She will likely remain in ICU for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow.
More updates later!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Life Goes On Somehow
Tonight Hubster and the kids came with me to see Mom.
They hadn't been in to see her since before her surgery, so it was time. Sometimes they need to see what Sis and I go through on a daily basis to appreciate the life they have and to understand more of the life Sis and I have to lead now. Regardless of whether or not Mom is "the same as she was before the stroke" or not, she is still a person - still someone worthy of love and respect. She is still the same person who fixed all those meals and babysat all those times. The same person whose main joy was in giving to her family. The same person who would do any and everything she could for the people she loved.
Sometimes they forget that. And sometimes they need to be reminded. So tonight they were.
Mom's neck looks much better. You can even tell she has a chin, which is a great improvement over yesterday. Rather than looking as if she has no neck at all, she now resembles a bullfrog.
Sorry, Mom. It will get better with time.
The huge bandage has been removed and replaced with a piece of gauze. There is still a very small amount of oozing from the incision, but it is hardly enough to notice.
Tomorrow morning they have decided to give her another trial to see if she is better able to breathe on her own. There is still some concern that the pressure of the swelling may be compromising her ability to breathe on her own, and if that's the case they'll just leave the vent in until the swelling subsides further.
In the meantime, they are still giving her medication to keep her blood pressure up. The sedation and the morphine seem to be lowering it quite a bit. The cardiologist was in today and ordered her to have more fluids in hopes of pushing her pressure up some, but both he and the ICU nurses believe once she is off of all the sedation and morphine it should right itself.
I'll go by there on the way to work tomorrow, and then again after work to see how she's doing. I usually call a few times in the hours I'm not there, so the nurses and I become well acquainted early on. My vacation/sick/personal leave is quickly being depleted or I would try to take part of tomorrow off to at least see her through the test she has to take.
This having-to-work-to-eat stuff really isn't all it's cracked up to be.
But life goes on, and so will we.
They hadn't been in to see her since before her surgery, so it was time. Sometimes they need to see what Sis and I go through on a daily basis to appreciate the life they have and to understand more of the life Sis and I have to lead now. Regardless of whether or not Mom is "the same as she was before the stroke" or not, she is still a person - still someone worthy of love and respect. She is still the same person who fixed all those meals and babysat all those times. The same person whose main joy was in giving to her family. The same person who would do any and everything she could for the people she loved.
Sometimes they forget that. And sometimes they need to be reminded. So tonight they were.
Mom's neck looks much better. You can even tell she has a chin, which is a great improvement over yesterday. Rather than looking as if she has no neck at all, she now resembles a bullfrog.
Sorry, Mom. It will get better with time.
The huge bandage has been removed and replaced with a piece of gauze. There is still a very small amount of oozing from the incision, but it is hardly enough to notice.
Tomorrow morning they have decided to give her another trial to see if she is better able to breathe on her own. There is still some concern that the pressure of the swelling may be compromising her ability to breathe on her own, and if that's the case they'll just leave the vent in until the swelling subsides further.
In the meantime, they are still giving her medication to keep her blood pressure up. The sedation and the morphine seem to be lowering it quite a bit. The cardiologist was in today and ordered her to have more fluids in hopes of pushing her pressure up some, but both he and the ICU nurses believe once she is off of all the sedation and morphine it should right itself.
I'll go by there on the way to work tomorrow, and then again after work to see how she's doing. I usually call a few times in the hours I'm not there, so the nurses and I become well acquainted early on. My vacation/sick/personal leave is quickly being depleted or I would try to take part of tomorrow off to at least see her through the test she has to take.
This having-to-work-to-eat stuff really isn't all it's cracked up to be.
But life goes on, and so will we.
ICU But You Don't See Me Because You're Sedated
And on a ventilator. Still.
Mom's neck still looks like the neck of someone who is world reknown for weightlifting or wrestling. To be sure her airway isn't compromised due to all the swelling, the ICU nurse is pushing for another 24 hours on the vent. That's fine with us at this point. We know how Mom would react to the swelling and to the pain if she weren't asleep.
Her blood pressure is holding steady except when they give her morphine. It takes a dip then, but they have medication to overcome it that works within 5 minutes. We can't tell if she's still seeping from the wound or not, as the doctor has given orders that the bandage is not to be moved for the time being. Again, that's just fine with us.
In the meantime, Sis and I are trusting the ICU to do its job. We come in two or three times a day to check on Mom, but there are no longer any marathon sit-in-the-ICU-all-day sessions as there were when she first had the stroke. It's better for us, and in the longrun, better for Mom. We need to let her rest and heal without hovering over her and worrying.
As I told the nurse, it's so much different this time. For one, we know she'll get better. There's almost no doubt of that. And for another, once you've been through the ICU in a situation where you truly don't know whether someone is going to live or die, it's much easier to turn their care over to professionals with more confidence.
So we'll wait. God will heal her in His own time, and then we'll begin the dance again. Only this time with more blood flow to her brain, and hopefully more energy.
Only time will tell.
Mom's neck still looks like the neck of someone who is world reknown for weightlifting or wrestling. To be sure her airway isn't compromised due to all the swelling, the ICU nurse is pushing for another 24 hours on the vent. That's fine with us at this point. We know how Mom would react to the swelling and to the pain if she weren't asleep.
Her blood pressure is holding steady except when they give her morphine. It takes a dip then, but they have medication to overcome it that works within 5 minutes. We can't tell if she's still seeping from the wound or not, as the doctor has given orders that the bandage is not to be moved for the time being. Again, that's just fine with us.
In the meantime, Sis and I are trusting the ICU to do its job. We come in two or three times a day to check on Mom, but there are no longer any marathon sit-in-the-ICU-all-day sessions as there were when she first had the stroke. It's better for us, and in the longrun, better for Mom. We need to let her rest and heal without hovering over her and worrying.
As I told the nurse, it's so much different this time. For one, we know she'll get better. There's almost no doubt of that. And for another, once you've been through the ICU in a situation where you truly don't know whether someone is going to live or die, it's much easier to turn their care over to professionals with more confidence.
So we'll wait. God will heal her in His own time, and then we'll begin the dance again. Only this time with more blood flow to her brain, and hopefully more energy.
Only time will tell.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Keeping the Status Quo
Fresh from a visit to the hospital, I bring you news.
The pulmonary doctor does not seem to think Mom aspirated any of the fluid or blood that was caused by the hematoma. This is a good thing, because there is less chance of infection developing in her lungs.
Right now she looks like someone took a winter muffler and wrapped it all the way around her neck, then covered it with skin. That's how swollen her neck is. The nurses say there are several drains in place that are catching the leakage, and hopefully the swelling will subside in a day or two. For right now they have ice packs on it.
They're talking about leaving her on the vent until they are completely sure there will be no compromised airway when they remove it. That may mean keeping her on it for a few days or even a week. But better to have her on it that to have her wake up and be scared about what's happened to her body while she was asleep.
Sis and I pop in throughout the day to visit for a few minutes and to make sure everything is going well. It's so different this time because we aren't that worried about if she's going to live or die. This time it's just a question of how long is it until she gets better.
In the meantime I'm trying to complete a project for my part-time job this weekend as well as be at the hospital and be home with my family. I don't think I have this particular juggling act down, so I'll have to muddle through somehow.
For right now though, I've taken a sleeping pill and can't keep my eyes open. G'night.
The pulmonary doctor does not seem to think Mom aspirated any of the fluid or blood that was caused by the hematoma. This is a good thing, because there is less chance of infection developing in her lungs.
Right now she looks like someone took a winter muffler and wrapped it all the way around her neck, then covered it with skin. That's how swollen her neck is. The nurses say there are several drains in place that are catching the leakage, and hopefully the swelling will subside in a day or two. For right now they have ice packs on it.
They're talking about leaving her on the vent until they are completely sure there will be no compromised airway when they remove it. That may mean keeping her on it for a few days or even a week. But better to have her on it that to have her wake up and be scared about what's happened to her body while she was asleep.
Sis and I pop in throughout the day to visit for a few minutes and to make sure everything is going well. It's so different this time because we aren't that worried about if she's going to live or die. This time it's just a question of how long is it until she gets better.
In the meantime I'm trying to complete a project for my part-time job this weekend as well as be at the hospital and be home with my family. I don't think I have this particular juggling act down, so I'll have to muddle through somehow.
For right now though, I've taken a sleeping pill and can't keep my eyes open. G'night.
Friday, September 12, 2008
The LOOOOONG And Winding Day
With apologies to Paul McCartney.
The day started out very early, as days are wont to do. I got to the hospital before either Sis or Mom, but both were there by 7:30 a.m. We had to wait a while to be called for admission since we were technically not supposed to be there before 8:45 a.m. The rehab center believes in sending clients an hour early, so we were there an hour early.
Mom didn't seem to have any fear or trepidation today. We were both glad for that. They called her back and got her loaded on the gurney, dressed in her gown, and the IV started. It took a while for the anesthesiologist to come in to talk to her, and after he did, her doctor came in. He explained what he was going to do, what we could expect, and how long we could expect the surgery to take.
I asked if he was a praying man, and he told me he certainly was - he prayed for each and every one of his patients as he scrubbed up for their surgeries. So he, Sis and I joined hands and prayed for Mom right then and there.
Mom, even without the benefit of anesthesia, slept through the whole thing.
Later, just before she was taken to surgery, another anesthesiologist came in to go over her meds and history with us. Imagine my surprise when I saw it was one of my best friends from high school! Mom knew her and she knew Mom, so we knew Mom would be well taken care of for sure. And off they went.
A couple of hours later the doctor came out and told us everything had gone well and Mom was resting comfortably in the Recovery Room. Sis decided to go to work for a couple of hours. An hour after that I was told she had been transferred to ICU, where she was to spend the night before being transferred to a regular room tomorrow.
And that's where things went a little wonky.
I went back to see her in ICU. The nurse was suctioning her throat, and told me she was just having a hard time coughing up the mucus from the breathing tube she'd had in during the surgery. There was a huge bandage on her neck that was leaking blood all around it. Mom was acting as if she couldn't breathe, even though the nurse said she could. Mom threw off her covers and told me she hurt and wanted me to do something about it.
All of a sudden she started bleeding a stream onto her neck. Since I'm not the type to handle blood and stay conscious, the nurse told me to head back to the waiting room. Being the obedient, not-wanting-to-faint type, I obeyed. I waited for a while, then decided to go one floor down to the coffee shop to get something to eat since I hadn't had anything all day. When I got back some of the other people in the waiting room told me the nurse had been looking for me. I told them I was back and they pulled me inside the ICU door before telling me Mom was back in surgery.
It was that quick.
The nurse hadn't wanted to tell me, but Mom pulling the covers off was a sign she was in distress. When she started bleeding the nurse knew she was in trouble. Apparently, because Mom was on Plavix when she had the surgery, it caused blood to seep into an area next to her esophagus forming a hematoma. It pressed on her esophagus, cutting off part of her airway.
Because of the quick thinking of the nurse, the doctor was able to get into the ICU and they were both able to help Mom in record time.
Mom's heartbeat sped up way too fast during this time because of all the stress. Due to this they had to use the paddles to shock it back into normal rhythm. The doctor pulled out "all kinds of clots" according to the nurse before he took her back to surgery. Thankfully, my friend was still there and she was able to come out and update both of us on what was happening, since Sis had rushed back.
When the doctor came out he told us he didn't think Mom had suffered another stroke due to this, and he'd run extra tests just to be sure everything was alright. He did take her off of the Plavix until further notice, and he told us he was going to leave her intubated and sedated in ICU for at least the night and probably tomorrow.
And then there was a tornado warning and we all had to go downstairs to the basement.
When we came back up we finally got to see Mom. She was peaceful, breathing well on the ventilator, and had been cleaned up from the last time I saw her. Sis and I both knew there was nothing else we could do tonight, so we made the decision to go home and get some rest for tomorrow.
Because it looks to be another long day.
The day started out very early, as days are wont to do. I got to the hospital before either Sis or Mom, but both were there by 7:30 a.m. We had to wait a while to be called for admission since we were technically not supposed to be there before 8:45 a.m. The rehab center believes in sending clients an hour early, so we were there an hour early.
Mom didn't seem to have any fear or trepidation today. We were both glad for that. They called her back and got her loaded on the gurney, dressed in her gown, and the IV started. It took a while for the anesthesiologist to come in to talk to her, and after he did, her doctor came in. He explained what he was going to do, what we could expect, and how long we could expect the surgery to take.
I asked if he was a praying man, and he told me he certainly was - he prayed for each and every one of his patients as he scrubbed up for their surgeries. So he, Sis and I joined hands and prayed for Mom right then and there.
Mom, even without the benefit of anesthesia, slept through the whole thing.
Later, just before she was taken to surgery, another anesthesiologist came in to go over her meds and history with us. Imagine my surprise when I saw it was one of my best friends from high school! Mom knew her and she knew Mom, so we knew Mom would be well taken care of for sure. And off they went.
A couple of hours later the doctor came out and told us everything had gone well and Mom was resting comfortably in the Recovery Room. Sis decided to go to work for a couple of hours. An hour after that I was told she had been transferred to ICU, where she was to spend the night before being transferred to a regular room tomorrow.
And that's where things went a little wonky.
I went back to see her in ICU. The nurse was suctioning her throat, and told me she was just having a hard time coughing up the mucus from the breathing tube she'd had in during the surgery. There was a huge bandage on her neck that was leaking blood all around it. Mom was acting as if she couldn't breathe, even though the nurse said she could. Mom threw off her covers and told me she hurt and wanted me to do something about it.
All of a sudden she started bleeding a stream onto her neck. Since I'm not the type to handle blood and stay conscious, the nurse told me to head back to the waiting room. Being the obedient, not-wanting-to-faint type, I obeyed. I waited for a while, then decided to go one floor down to the coffee shop to get something to eat since I hadn't had anything all day. When I got back some of the other people in the waiting room told me the nurse had been looking for me. I told them I was back and they pulled me inside the ICU door before telling me Mom was back in surgery.
It was that quick.
The nurse hadn't wanted to tell me, but Mom pulling the covers off was a sign she was in distress. When she started bleeding the nurse knew she was in trouble. Apparently, because Mom was on Plavix when she had the surgery, it caused blood to seep into an area next to her esophagus forming a hematoma. It pressed on her esophagus, cutting off part of her airway.
Because of the quick thinking of the nurse, the doctor was able to get into the ICU and they were both able to help Mom in record time.
Mom's heartbeat sped up way too fast during this time because of all the stress. Due to this they had to use the paddles to shock it back into normal rhythm. The doctor pulled out "all kinds of clots" according to the nurse before he took her back to surgery. Thankfully, my friend was still there and she was able to come out and update both of us on what was happening, since Sis had rushed back.
When the doctor came out he told us he didn't think Mom had suffered another stroke due to this, and he'd run extra tests just to be sure everything was alright. He did take her off of the Plavix until further notice, and he told us he was going to leave her intubated and sedated in ICU for at least the night and probably tomorrow.
And then there was a tornado warning and we all had to go downstairs to the basement.
When we came back up we finally got to see Mom. She was peaceful, breathing well on the ventilator, and had been cleaned up from the last time I saw her. Sis and I both knew there was nothing else we could do tonight, so we made the decision to go home and get some rest for tomorrow.
Because it looks to be another long day.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A Little Dab'l Do Ya
Doc took pity on poor Mom and prescribed the aforementioned Xanax for her today.
The dosage was very small - only .25 mg every four hours as needed - but even that amount relaxed her so much she had a hard time staying awake. At this point that's not such a bad thing. Much better that than all the tears and worry she was going through the night before.
During therapy today she was able to move her left leg even more than before she went to the hospital the last time. We're encouraged by that, but still not overly hopeful. The chances of her walking again are almost nonexistent, although she has taken a step or two with a walker.
Tomorrow is the day we've been waiting for since July. She'll arrive at the hospital around 7:30 in the morning to get checked in and prepped for her surgery at 10:15 a.m. We haven't been told yet how long the surgery will take, but we know she'll be staying overnight. We hope to take her back to the rehab center on Saturday with a much-increased blood flow to her brain on the right side. After all, you can't get much worse than 95% blocked, so it has to get better after the surgery. I just wish we hadn't had to wait so long for it to happen.
Call me crazy, but part of me still hopes that the Mom I used to know will come back after these surgeries are completed. The logical part of me knows it's a pipe dream, but the hopeful part of me so wants to believe she is still in there somewhere and will reappear. Yes, even after all this time. Yes, even after all the damage done to her brain. Hope dies hard in this daughter of a stubborn woman. I can't help it.
So tomorrow we'll go to the hospital and sit with her, then sit and wait while she's in surgery, then sit with her some more. And we'll pray the entire time that God's will is done in her life, whatever that may be.
But we'll hope for miracles.
The dosage was very small - only .25 mg every four hours as needed - but even that amount relaxed her so much she had a hard time staying awake. At this point that's not such a bad thing. Much better that than all the tears and worry she was going through the night before.
During therapy today she was able to move her left leg even more than before she went to the hospital the last time. We're encouraged by that, but still not overly hopeful. The chances of her walking again are almost nonexistent, although she has taken a step or two with a walker.
Tomorrow is the day we've been waiting for since July. She'll arrive at the hospital around 7:30 in the morning to get checked in and prepped for her surgery at 10:15 a.m. We haven't been told yet how long the surgery will take, but we know she'll be staying overnight. We hope to take her back to the rehab center on Saturday with a much-increased blood flow to her brain on the right side. After all, you can't get much worse than 95% blocked, so it has to get better after the surgery. I just wish we hadn't had to wait so long for it to happen.
Call me crazy, but part of me still hopes that the Mom I used to know will come back after these surgeries are completed. The logical part of me knows it's a pipe dream, but the hopeful part of me so wants to believe she is still in there somewhere and will reappear. Yes, even after all this time. Yes, even after all the damage done to her brain. Hope dies hard in this daughter of a stubborn woman. I can't help it.
So tomorrow we'll go to the hospital and sit with her, then sit and wait while she's in surgery, then sit with her some more. And we'll pray the entire time that God's will is done in her life, whatever that may be.
But we'll hope for miracles.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
What's Good For The Daughter May Be Good For The Mom
The Boy had a football game tonight, so I determined I was not going to the rehab center to see Mom.
So after the football game tonight I went to the rehab center to see Mom.
Guilt is a powerful motivator.
She had her hair cut and styled today and it looked nice. It's the first time she's been able to have her hair cut since June due to all the going back and forth to the hospital and canceling of appointments with the hairdresser, so I was glad to see it done.
There were three aides in the room when I got there, two of whom were getting her ready for bed. The other was wasting time, which seems to be a habit with this particular aide. Mom is still having problems with her bottom and the after effects of the bleeding in her GI tract. We're hoping this clears up soon. Until then it hurts her every time she has to be cleaned up, and she makes it known. I feel sorry for her, but I feel sorry for the aides as well.
The aides as well as the nurses have noticed her mood change since she's been back from the hospital. I explained to them that she is scared to death about the upcoming surgery, and one of the nurses suggested some Xanax might help relieve her anxiety. Being a fan of Xanax myself, I agreed. It's been a friend to me during times of extreme stress these past months. She'll be checking with the doctor to see what he thinks about using it short-term.
There are times I would like to grind it up and put it in every meal Mom eats, even though I will probably burn in hell for even thinking that.
Just pretend like you didn't read that last line.
At any rate, tonight's visit was very short since I had to pick up The Boy from the school. She's still concerned that he will be hurt during a game. The first question after I told her where I'd been tonight was not "Who won?" but "Is The Boy OK?" She worries.
But I'm thinking she might worry less after breakfast tomorrow....
So after the football game tonight I went to the rehab center to see Mom.
Guilt is a powerful motivator.
She had her hair cut and styled today and it looked nice. It's the first time she's been able to have her hair cut since June due to all the going back and forth to the hospital and canceling of appointments with the hairdresser, so I was glad to see it done.
There were three aides in the room when I got there, two of whom were getting her ready for bed. The other was wasting time, which seems to be a habit with this particular aide. Mom is still having problems with her bottom and the after effects of the bleeding in her GI tract. We're hoping this clears up soon. Until then it hurts her every time she has to be cleaned up, and she makes it known. I feel sorry for her, but I feel sorry for the aides as well.
The aides as well as the nurses have noticed her mood change since she's been back from the hospital. I explained to them that she is scared to death about the upcoming surgery, and one of the nurses suggested some Xanax might help relieve her anxiety. Being a fan of Xanax myself, I agreed. It's been a friend to me during times of extreme stress these past months. She'll be checking with the doctor to see what he thinks about using it short-term.
There are times I would like to grind it up and put it in every meal Mom eats, even though I will probably burn in hell for even thinking that.
Just pretend like you didn't read that last line.
At any rate, tonight's visit was very short since I had to pick up The Boy from the school. She's still concerned that he will be hurt during a game. The first question after I told her where I'd been tonight was not "Who won?" but "Is The Boy OK?" She worries.
But I'm thinking she might worry less after breakfast tomorrow....
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
De Mom Is Demanding
Sis went to the hospital this morning.
Doc called me at home to tell me he was releasing Mom since they couldn't hold her until the surgery due to the Medicare rule. I called Sis, and she told me to go ahead and go to work. She didn't think she'd have any trouble getting Mom back to the rehab center.
Of course, she didn't count on the hospital. Or the nurses. Or the social worker. Or Mom.
All told it took her from around 9 a.m. to around 2 p.m. to get all the paperwork done and Mom back in bed for a nap at Rehab Central. During this time Mom decided to be a pill, wanting this rubbed and that moved and this gotten and that taken somewhere else. And when it was all done just as she'd asked, she wanted to know where I was. Poor Sis had her hands full and then some.
I showed up this evening after work with chicken livers. Unfortunately, I bought them from a different place this time and they were about the consistency of rocks. Mom seemed to enjoy them, though. After dinner I took her back to her room and got her into bed. I unpacked some of her things and she talked to me about how scared she was about the surgery coming up on Friday. She honestly thinks she's got a good chance of dying, and nothing we say can convince her otherwise.
It all stems from a neighbor we had who was supposed to have had the same type of surgery over twenty-five years ago. She talked to Mom then about the "dangers" of the surgery and the "almost certain risk" there was of another stroke or death, and it stuck with Mom all these years. Now the neighbor is long dead, but the fear lingers on. Never mind that Mom's sister had the same surgery successfully. Mom thinks she's a goner.
And then she started feeling sorry for herself.
"What have I ever done to deserve this? I never hurt anyone in my life..."
And that's where I stepped in. After all, enough is enough, stroke or no. I told her in no uncertain terms she was NOT going to die, that this was common surgery, that her sister had lived through it, and so would she. I told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and to buck up and get over it, because none of us had the time or the energy to deal with it. And besides, she was getting the sheets all wet and the aides were going to think it was my fault. It was a pep talk that would've brought a tear to your eye. Truly.
In the end I got a grin out of her and got her out of the mood. But I don't think I got her out of the fear. Only getting through the surgery without dying will do that. And I'm sure it will come back before the next surgery. That's how her mind works now.
She's hoping to see some family before she goes in Friday. We told her a nephew and his family are coming up after the surgery on Saturday. Being the ever-optimistic person she is now, she said,"What good will that do me? I'll be dead by then!"
Of course, my sister Chopped and myself, Liver, will be there for the entire saga. But we don't count. It's the OTHERS she wants to see.
But if we're not there, you can bet she'll want to know why.
Doc called me at home to tell me he was releasing Mom since they couldn't hold her until the surgery due to the Medicare rule. I called Sis, and she told me to go ahead and go to work. She didn't think she'd have any trouble getting Mom back to the rehab center.
Of course, she didn't count on the hospital. Or the nurses. Or the social worker. Or Mom.
All told it took her from around 9 a.m. to around 2 p.m. to get all the paperwork done and Mom back in bed for a nap at Rehab Central. During this time Mom decided to be a pill, wanting this rubbed and that moved and this gotten and that taken somewhere else. And when it was all done just as she'd asked, she wanted to know where I was. Poor Sis had her hands full and then some.
I showed up this evening after work with chicken livers. Unfortunately, I bought them from a different place this time and they were about the consistency of rocks. Mom seemed to enjoy them, though. After dinner I took her back to her room and got her into bed. I unpacked some of her things and she talked to me about how scared she was about the surgery coming up on Friday. She honestly thinks she's got a good chance of dying, and nothing we say can convince her otherwise.
It all stems from a neighbor we had who was supposed to have had the same type of surgery over twenty-five years ago. She talked to Mom then about the "dangers" of the surgery and the "almost certain risk" there was of another stroke or death, and it stuck with Mom all these years. Now the neighbor is long dead, but the fear lingers on. Never mind that Mom's sister had the same surgery successfully. Mom thinks she's a goner.
And then she started feeling sorry for herself.
"What have I ever done to deserve this? I never hurt anyone in my life..."
And that's where I stepped in. After all, enough is enough, stroke or no. I told her in no uncertain terms she was NOT going to die, that this was common surgery, that her sister had lived through it, and so would she. I told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and to buck up and get over it, because none of us had the time or the energy to deal with it. And besides, she was getting the sheets all wet and the aides were going to think it was my fault. It was a pep talk that would've brought a tear to your eye. Truly.
In the end I got a grin out of her and got her out of the mood. But I don't think I got her out of the fear. Only getting through the surgery without dying will do that. And I'm sure it will come back before the next surgery. That's how her mind works now.
She's hoping to see some family before she goes in Friday. We told her a nephew and his family are coming up after the surgery on Saturday. Being the ever-optimistic person she is now, she said,"What good will that do me? I'll be dead by then!"
Of course, my sister Chopped and myself, Liver, will be there for the entire saga. But we don't count. It's the OTHERS she wants to see.
But if we're not there, you can bet she'll want to know why.
It's The Yo-Yo Effect, Only Back And Forth Instead Of Up And Down...Kind Of
Mom is being released from the hospital today for the 132nd time.
Her bleeding has stopped, and the only physical problem she now seems to have is the bottom area. However, that seems to be clearing up as well.
What is not so nice is that we have to take her back to rehab today, then haul her back to the hospital on Friday morning for her surgery. They won't even let her spend the night before surgery in the hospital so that she doesn't have to get up at zero-dawn-thirty to be there. So it's Sunday Monday in, Tuesday Wednesday Thursday out, Friday in, Saturday out.
No wonder the woman is confused.
She was also completely ticked that we had to miss her eye appointment on Monday due to all the hullabaloo, and insisted we could still go if they'd just take the catheter out. I disagreed.
She's been hard to get along with this past week, or maybe it's just that Sis and I are so tired. Last night she asked why Sis and I don't laugh anymore. It's hard to laugh when all you want to do sometimes is be as far away from the person you love and the situation they're in as you can get. Not because you don't love them or care about what happens to them, but because you're tired of it all. So stinking tired you could just keel over at any time. This is one of those times.
But it won't last forever.
We just have to hang on and trust that God has a plan in all of this. That Mom will eventually get through rehab and be the best that she can be. That we will find the best place for her. That we will settle in to whatever normal there is waiting for us and go on with our lives. That there will be happiness for all of us in this again.
God is big, and He can handle all of that. I can't. So I'm putting the yo-yo back in His hands again. He knows all the fancy tricks I don't. He's good at it. I'm not.
Play on, God. Play on.
Her bleeding has stopped, and the only physical problem she now seems to have is the bottom area. However, that seems to be clearing up as well.
What is not so nice is that we have to take her back to rehab today, then haul her back to the hospital on Friday morning for her surgery. They won't even let her spend the night before surgery in the hospital so that she doesn't have to get up at zero-dawn-thirty to be there. So it's Sunday Monday in, Tuesday Wednesday Thursday out, Friday in, Saturday out.
No wonder the woman is confused.
She was also completely ticked that we had to miss her eye appointment on Monday due to all the hullabaloo, and insisted we could still go if they'd just take the catheter out. I disagreed.
She's been hard to get along with this past week, or maybe it's just that Sis and I are so tired. Last night she asked why Sis and I don't laugh anymore. It's hard to laugh when all you want to do sometimes is be as far away from the person you love and the situation they're in as you can get. Not because you don't love them or care about what happens to them, but because you're tired of it all. So stinking tired you could just keel over at any time. This is one of those times.
But it won't last forever.
We just have to hang on and trust that God has a plan in all of this. That Mom will eventually get through rehab and be the best that she can be. That we will find the best place for her. That we will settle in to whatever normal there is waiting for us and go on with our lives. That there will be happiness for all of us in this again.
God is big, and He can handle all of that. I can't. So I'm putting the yo-yo back in His hands again. He knows all the fancy tricks I don't. He's good at it. I'm not.
Play on, God. Play on.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Just As We Suspected
Another scope was done this morning.
I went to work in order to keep my job, but Sis was there with Mom. Since Mom is an old hat at these things now, there was no reason for both of us to be there. After all, we knew what they'd find.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Since Mom is refusing the laxatives necessary for the camera swallow, there is nothing else the GI team can do except recommend she be taken off of the Coumadin. Of course, Drs. Me and Sis have already decided that, as well as Doc after a conversation with him this morning. We will do this no more.
Plavix will have to do the job, along with a daily aspirin. And if the bleeding continues, one of them will go. Better that than have her live the "life" she's been living the past few months.
As of now the surgery is still scheduled for Friday. We'll see what the morrow will bring, because the morrow has been known to leave some pretty nasty stuff.
And please, let me take this opportunity to thank those of you who have been so very encouraging, hopeful, and who smack me around when I need it. You let me vent here as I can no other place, and that means a great deal to me. I think particularly of my wonderful friend Linds, who has been the rock on which I've stood, leaned, cried, bellowed to, and rejoiced with. "Some American" cares for you more than you know, my friend!
I went to work in order to keep my job, but Sis was there with Mom. Since Mom is an old hat at these things now, there was no reason for both of us to be there. After all, we knew what they'd find.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Since Mom is refusing the laxatives necessary for the camera swallow, there is nothing else the GI team can do except recommend she be taken off of the Coumadin. Of course, Drs. Me and Sis have already decided that, as well as Doc after a conversation with him this morning. We will do this no more.
Plavix will have to do the job, along with a daily aspirin. And if the bleeding continues, one of them will go. Better that than have her live the "life" she's been living the past few months.
As of now the surgery is still scheduled for Friday. We'll see what the morrow will bring, because the morrow has been known to leave some pretty nasty stuff.
And please, let me take this opportunity to thank those of you who have been so very encouraging, hopeful, and who smack me around when I need it. You let me vent here as I can no other place, and that means a great deal to me. I think particularly of my wonderful friend Linds, who has been the rock on which I've stood, leaned, cried, bellowed to, and rejoiced with. "Some American" cares for you more than you know, my friend!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Better, But Still Not Perfect
OK. After the blowup of last post, we'll get on to a saner output in this one.
Mom is better today. No mixing up of words, no unfinished sentences. Her hemoglobin is back up, and measured at over 11 this morning, but had dropped to 10.4 by this afternoon. She is still bleeding from somewhere in the upper gastric region, and that was evidenced by continued nausea today. She was given medication for the nausea which did seem to help. We still have the same problems with her bottom and stools.
The GI doctor's partner came in to see her today and talked with her about doing another scope and possible camera swallow. Mom was emphatic that she was NOT going to take ANY more laxatives, and pretty much told the guy where he could place any laxatives he wanted to try to give her and how high they could go.
He gawked at her, then made a hasty retreat after saying he'd have the partner that usually talks with Mom come in to see her tomorrow. Somehow I think Mom will have the same opinion then as today, but I could be wrong. Or not.
It was all I could do to keep from giving her a "high five."
Mom had three different sets of visitors today, and when the last group left she was pretty tired out. Sis came in for the evening shift before 4 p.m. and I left for the day. I'll be going to work tomorrow, but I plan to stop by the hospital tomorrow morning early enough to talk with Doc about the plan of treatment this time. And to tell him she isn't leaving until whatever it is is FIXED this time. And that she's never going back on Coumadin again.
As for me personally, I am far from worn out. A good friend from church called to find out how things were going and how they could help, so I told her. And it was done. The church has been great throughout all of this from the beginning.
Now that I know that the chest pains were from excessive reflux due to stress they have gone away. I am making it a point to eat regularly, sleep well, and tonight I cooked dinner for both tonight and tomorrow night. The crockpot is my friend. I am not stressing over the state of the house. I am not stressing over the state of the flower beds or the yard. I am taking it one day at a time, and letting God handle the rest. I have no other choice.
This will not last forever. Mom won't be in the hospital forever. Mom won't be in rehab forever. I have to cherish the time I have with her while she's here, but I also have to cherish the time I have with my children while they are home, and with my husband.
Because you never know what tomorrow will bring.
Mom is better today. No mixing up of words, no unfinished sentences. Her hemoglobin is back up, and measured at over 11 this morning, but had dropped to 10.4 by this afternoon. She is still bleeding from somewhere in the upper gastric region, and that was evidenced by continued nausea today. She was given medication for the nausea which did seem to help. We still have the same problems with her bottom and stools.
The GI doctor's partner came in to see her today and talked with her about doing another scope and possible camera swallow. Mom was emphatic that she was NOT going to take ANY more laxatives, and pretty much told the guy where he could place any laxatives he wanted to try to give her and how high they could go.
He gawked at her, then made a hasty retreat after saying he'd have the partner that usually talks with Mom come in to see her tomorrow. Somehow I think Mom will have the same opinion then as today, but I could be wrong. Or not.
It was all I could do to keep from giving her a "high five."
Mom had three different sets of visitors today, and when the last group left she was pretty tired out. Sis came in for the evening shift before 4 p.m. and I left for the day. I'll be going to work tomorrow, but I plan to stop by the hospital tomorrow morning early enough to talk with Doc about the plan of treatment this time. And to tell him she isn't leaving until whatever it is is FIXED this time. And that she's never going back on Coumadin again.
As for me personally, I am far from worn out. A good friend from church called to find out how things were going and how they could help, so I told her. And it was done. The church has been great throughout all of this from the beginning.
Now that I know that the chest pains were from excessive reflux due to stress they have gone away. I am making it a point to eat regularly, sleep well, and tonight I cooked dinner for both tonight and tomorrow night. The crockpot is my friend. I am not stressing over the state of the house. I am not stressing over the state of the flower beds or the yard. I am taking it one day at a time, and letting God handle the rest. I have no other choice.
This will not last forever. Mom won't be in the hospital forever. Mom won't be in rehab forever. I have to cherish the time I have with her while she's here, but I also have to cherish the time I have with my children while they are home, and with my husband.
Because you never know what tomorrow will bring.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
We're Thinking About Taking Out Stock
After all, with the amount of time we've spent in the hospital lately, we might as well be stockholders. Or at least have our own personal suite.
Mom is back in the hospital again, getting yet another transfusion. There is another bleed somewhere in her upper GI tract. Sis and I are both doubtful the GI docs will be able to find it. After all, they've been down her gullet with a scope three times now, and haven't found it yet. Why should this time be different?
But we have made a decision.
Mom will receive no more Coumadin. She's already on Plavix to keep her stents from clotting up, and there is no need for her to be on two different blood thinners. Besides that, Coumadin has done nothing but cause her grief since she's been on it. Rather than keep her from having another stroke, it's kept her from taking advantage of the rehabilitation she could be utilizing now by causing all of the bleeds she's had over the past few months. If they can't keep her INR where it needs to be with the Plavix, then we'll just take the risk of her having another stroke. The way she's living now is literally a living hell, and we won't see her go through it any more. It's too painful for her, and she will not suffer through it again.
Her behind is broken out still and is bleeding every time she's cleaned up. No matter how much protective cream they put on her it doesn't seem to help. She cries out in pain every time she has to be cleaned up, and it breaks our hearts. But it has to be done.
Along with the internal bleeding this time, something else strange is happening. Mom is mixing up words, calling things by the wrong name. She's also unable to speak in complete sentences some of the time, or to tell us where exactly she hurts. Tonight she called the call pad for her nurse a "biscuit" and told the nurse she didn't hurt anywhere even though she was groaning in pain. When she doesn't feel well she often transfers her pain in her mind to other people, including her doctor. The last time she was in the hospital she said she felt sorry for Doc because his hip hurt so much. The first time she had to have a transfusion she was upset because she thought Cutie had to have one as well.
The stress associated with all of this for Sis and me is almost greater than we can bear. We both feel so torn between our mother and our families at home. Sometimes I feel as though I'm the only one from my home family who gives a rip about her anymore, and the rest of them just want it all to be over with so I can come home and cook dinner and be Mom again. My son from out of town comes in when he can to help, but even then Mom wants to know where I am.
For the past three weeks I hid the fact that I've been suffering chest pains. When I went to the doctor for my asthma shots I mentioned it once and attributed it to stress. However, the next time I went I asked for something to help with the pain, thinking it had to do with my lungs. Instead, that doctor sent me to a cardiologist. Thankfully there was no problem on the EKG, and I believe it may have been the reflux raring its ugly head.
All this to say there is no easy fix to this. No magical cure that will make everything all better again. There's just Mom and the love we have for her, and the time we're willing to sacrifice for her because of that love. But somewhere, somehow, there has to be a balance we can reach in all aspects of this without feeling guilty.
And if you could tell me where that is, I'd most certainly buy stock.
Mom is back in the hospital again, getting yet another transfusion. There is another bleed somewhere in her upper GI tract. Sis and I are both doubtful the GI docs will be able to find it. After all, they've been down her gullet with a scope three times now, and haven't found it yet. Why should this time be different?
But we have made a decision.
Mom will receive no more Coumadin. She's already on Plavix to keep her stents from clotting up, and there is no need for her to be on two different blood thinners. Besides that, Coumadin has done nothing but cause her grief since she's been on it. Rather than keep her from having another stroke, it's kept her from taking advantage of the rehabilitation she could be utilizing now by causing all of the bleeds she's had over the past few months. If they can't keep her INR where it needs to be with the Plavix, then we'll just take the risk of her having another stroke. The way she's living now is literally a living hell, and we won't see her go through it any more. It's too painful for her, and she will not suffer through it again.
Her behind is broken out still and is bleeding every time she's cleaned up. No matter how much protective cream they put on her it doesn't seem to help. She cries out in pain every time she has to be cleaned up, and it breaks our hearts. But it has to be done.
Along with the internal bleeding this time, something else strange is happening. Mom is mixing up words, calling things by the wrong name. She's also unable to speak in complete sentences some of the time, or to tell us where exactly she hurts. Tonight she called the call pad for her nurse a "biscuit" and told the nurse she didn't hurt anywhere even though she was groaning in pain. When she doesn't feel well she often transfers her pain in her mind to other people, including her doctor. The last time she was in the hospital she said she felt sorry for Doc because his hip hurt so much. The first time she had to have a transfusion she was upset because she thought Cutie had to have one as well.
The stress associated with all of this for Sis and me is almost greater than we can bear. We both feel so torn between our mother and our families at home. Sometimes I feel as though I'm the only one from my home family who gives a rip about her anymore, and the rest of them just want it all to be over with so I can come home and cook dinner and be Mom again. My son from out of town comes in when he can to help, but even then Mom wants to know where I am.
For the past three weeks I hid the fact that I've been suffering chest pains. When I went to the doctor for my asthma shots I mentioned it once and attributed it to stress. However, the next time I went I asked for something to help with the pain, thinking it had to do with my lungs. Instead, that doctor sent me to a cardiologist. Thankfully there was no problem on the EKG, and I believe it may have been the reflux raring its ugly head.
All this to say there is no easy fix to this. No magical cure that will make everything all better again. There's just Mom and the love we have for her, and the time we're willing to sacrifice for her because of that love. But somewhere, somehow, there has to be a balance we can reach in all aspects of this without feeling guilty.
And if you could tell me where that is, I'd most certainly buy stock.
Here We Go For The Hundredth Time
We're headed back to the hospital.
Mom awoke this morning incoherent after an evening of complaining about her stomach and her behind. Her hemoglobin is back down to 6, and her INR has yet to be determined. She also has a urinary tract infection.
I so wish this part would END and she could get on with the rest of her life!
Mom awoke this morning incoherent after an evening of complaining about her stomach and her behind. Her hemoglobin is back down to 6, and her INR has yet to be determined. She also has a urinary tract infection.
I so wish this part would END and she could get on with the rest of her life!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Sing Me A Song
When I arrived at the rehab center tonight Mom was just finishing dinner. She was sitting with two very nice ladies. I had seen one of the ladies playing the piano on several occasions and I mentioned how much I enjoyed listening to her.
Big mistake on my part.
Mom got the idea that Dorothy could play the piano and I could sing. That wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that I haven't sung on a regular basis for several months now, and I'm really rusty. But Mom was not to be deterred.
So we left the dinner table and went over to the piano. Dorothy played, and I sang. And Mom, for her part in the little trio, cried. It was really kind of comical. Dorothy playing the piano with a broken ankle, me singing off-key with no breath control at all, and Mom crying because it was so beautiful and she was so proud.
Poor Mom.
Thankfully, our little impromptu concert didn't last long. I threatened the nurses with Ex-Lax if they even acknowledged they had heard anyone singing, much less me. To their credit, they cowered appropriately between laughs.
Big mistake on my part.
Mom got the idea that Dorothy could play the piano and I could sing. That wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that I haven't sung on a regular basis for several months now, and I'm really rusty. But Mom was not to be deterred.
So we left the dinner table and went over to the piano. Dorothy played, and I sang. And Mom, for her part in the little trio, cried. It was really kind of comical. Dorothy playing the piano with a broken ankle, me singing off-key with no breath control at all, and Mom crying because it was so beautiful and she was so proud.
Poor Mom.
Thankfully, our little impromptu concert didn't last long. I threatened the nurses with Ex-Lax if they even acknowledged they had heard anyone singing, much less me. To their credit, they cowered appropriately between laughs.
Monday, September 1, 2008
More Gas In Her Tank
The energy level at the rehab center seems to have increased.
When I arrived after dinner tonight Mom was set for the night, in bed, covers pulled up, but wide awake and loaded for bear. She was fooling with her FotoDialer, and I asked her what she was doing.
"Trying to call YOU. Where have you been?"
I explained the grandkids were over today and I was late getting there. She, of course, thought she had been forgotten. Somehow there is going to have to come a day when we will be able to go a day without seeing her and having her being OK with it. I just don't know when that day will ever come at this point.
Today Mom didn't take a nap. Instead, she joined several of the other residents to watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers on the big screen television. She really enjoyed the movie, the original with Gordon Macrae. She enjoyed the big screen even more, because she could actually SEE the television. Since the stroke it's been hard for her to see much of anything. Tomorrow I'll be making an appointment for her to see an eye doctor to get new glasses in hopes she'll be able to have somewhat better eyesight. Right now it's hard for her to see even the food on her plate. With different glasses we hope that will improve.
She did not enjoy sitting in the wheelchair for the entire afternoon. Apparently her tailbone got quite sore. Wheelchairs are nothing like easy chairs. The comfort level is greatly diminished, even with a good cushion.
She told me she was able to swing her left leg in her therapy session today. We have also noticed some movement, albeit involuntary, in her left arm. Add that to the fact that she comprehends things she didn't before, and we are very encouraged.
While she was in the hospital after the heart procedure she told me she realizes her mind has been playing tricks on her. For instance, if she is asked to pick up a fork, she honestly believes she is doing it, yet her hand does not move. Whereas before she would argue that the fork had been picked up, she now realizes that her hand is not moving when her brain tells it to even though she thinks it is. That's quite a step forward.
Her new roommate told me she is (so far) very pleasant to live with, and we hope that continues. Mary Lou seems like such a sweet lady. She said that she and Mom talked for quite a while after I left last night.
When I left tonight at 7:15, Mom was just starting to feel a little sleepy. She's got a full day of therapy tomorrow with lots more energy to accomplish a lot more. We'll hope for the best and see what she can do!
When I arrived after dinner tonight Mom was set for the night, in bed, covers pulled up, but wide awake and loaded for bear. She was fooling with her FotoDialer, and I asked her what she was doing.
"Trying to call YOU. Where have you been?"
I explained the grandkids were over today and I was late getting there. She, of course, thought she had been forgotten. Somehow there is going to have to come a day when we will be able to go a day without seeing her and having her being OK with it. I just don't know when that day will ever come at this point.
Today Mom didn't take a nap. Instead, she joined several of the other residents to watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers on the big screen television. She really enjoyed the movie, the original with Gordon Macrae. She enjoyed the big screen even more, because she could actually SEE the television. Since the stroke it's been hard for her to see much of anything. Tomorrow I'll be making an appointment for her to see an eye doctor to get new glasses in hopes she'll be able to have somewhat better eyesight. Right now it's hard for her to see even the food on her plate. With different glasses we hope that will improve.
She did not enjoy sitting in the wheelchair for the entire afternoon. Apparently her tailbone got quite sore. Wheelchairs are nothing like easy chairs. The comfort level is greatly diminished, even with a good cushion.
She told me she was able to swing her left leg in her therapy session today. We have also noticed some movement, albeit involuntary, in her left arm. Add that to the fact that she comprehends things she didn't before, and we are very encouraged.
While she was in the hospital after the heart procedure she told me she realizes her mind has been playing tricks on her. For instance, if she is asked to pick up a fork, she honestly believes she is doing it, yet her hand does not move. Whereas before she would argue that the fork had been picked up, she now realizes that her hand is not moving when her brain tells it to even though she thinks it is. That's quite a step forward.
Her new roommate told me she is (so far) very pleasant to live with, and we hope that continues. Mary Lou seems like such a sweet lady. She said that she and Mom talked for quite a while after I left last night.
When I left tonight at 7:15, Mom was just starting to feel a little sleepy. She's got a full day of therapy tomorrow with lots more energy to accomplish a lot more. We'll hope for the best and see what she can do!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Back Where We Belong
Mom is officially back in her home away from home, the rehab center.
She was a bit confused today. At first she thought she was leaving the upstairs of the farmhouse where she grew up because it was being sold, and that made her very sad. After we assured her the farmhouse had been sold many years ago she remembered, but then thought she had been staying at Doc's house. She wanted to stop at Panera to get a gift basket for Doc and his wife to thank them for their hospitality, especially since Doc's wife had been so nice to cook so many meals for her. We avoided that.
After all, if ANYONE is getting Panera, it's US. :>)
The rehab center had stored all her belongings for us, knowing she'd eventually return. It took us a good long while to get her moved into her new room, and not very long at all for us to decide she had accumulated way too much stuff in the short time she'd been there. Sis carted off a whole box of things that were no longer needed. Since there isn't a dresser in her new room Sis will be making a trip to the store to purchase one of those multi-drawer plastic contrivances to hold extra items. As it is she only has three drawers in a nightstand. Far too little storage for anyone, much less Mom.
She seemed to hold up well during all the unpacking, only complaining of her back hurting as she sat in the wheelchair. Sis left with Giganto Box O' Stuff, and I stuck around to get Mom settled back in. The nursing director came in to welcome her back, as did many of the staff. We headed down to the lounge near the dining area where Mom decided she'd like to sit in one of the easy chairs. I helped her into it and we sat and talked for quite a while.
Supper time came, and she ate very well. If she could actually see what was on the plate instead of having to feel around for it things would be easier, but she managed quite well nevertheless. Some of the friends she's made at the rehab center welcomed her back and told her she was missed, and that meant a lot to her. After supper her back was still bothering her so I got her pain pills and got her into bed.
But there was a difference.
Whereas before she would be out like a light immediately after she was put to bed, she is now wide awake. Even with the pain pills, even after the tiring day she had, even after all she's been through. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
So I laid down with her for a while and snuggled. I figured she doesn't get enough of that, and frankly, neither do I. No matter how old I get, and no matter how old she gets, I think I'll still love to lay down next to her and hold her close. She told me a while back that she misses being hugged. She misses physical contact; the closeness of personal touch. But this makes up for it in spades.
She was still awake as I got ready to leave at 7:00 p.m., so I turned the television on for her. I left the volume low enough to where it wouldn't bother her roommate, but it might occupy Mom's mind while she was awake. The aides will come in later and turn it off.
It's good to have things back to semi-normal. Or new normal. Or pseudo-normal. At least we're more comfortable feeling as though we're back where we should be.
And maybe it will stay that way for a while.
She was a bit confused today. At first she thought she was leaving the upstairs of the farmhouse where she grew up because it was being sold, and that made her very sad. After we assured her the farmhouse had been sold many years ago she remembered, but then thought she had been staying at Doc's house. She wanted to stop at Panera to get a gift basket for Doc and his wife to thank them for their hospitality, especially since Doc's wife had been so nice to cook so many meals for her. We avoided that.
After all, if ANYONE is getting Panera, it's US. :>)
The rehab center had stored all her belongings for us, knowing she'd eventually return. It took us a good long while to get her moved into her new room, and not very long at all for us to decide she had accumulated way too much stuff in the short time she'd been there. Sis carted off a whole box of things that were no longer needed. Since there isn't a dresser in her new room Sis will be making a trip to the store to purchase one of those multi-drawer plastic contrivances to hold extra items. As it is she only has three drawers in a nightstand. Far too little storage for anyone, much less Mom.
She seemed to hold up well during all the unpacking, only complaining of her back hurting as she sat in the wheelchair. Sis left with Giganto Box O' Stuff, and I stuck around to get Mom settled back in. The nursing director came in to welcome her back, as did many of the staff. We headed down to the lounge near the dining area where Mom decided she'd like to sit in one of the easy chairs. I helped her into it and we sat and talked for quite a while.
Supper time came, and she ate very well. If she could actually see what was on the plate instead of having to feel around for it things would be easier, but she managed quite well nevertheless. Some of the friends she's made at the rehab center welcomed her back and told her she was missed, and that meant a lot to her. After supper her back was still bothering her so I got her pain pills and got her into bed.
But there was a difference.
Whereas before she would be out like a light immediately after she was put to bed, she is now wide awake. Even with the pain pills, even after the tiring day she had, even after all she's been through. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
So I laid down with her for a while and snuggled. I figured she doesn't get enough of that, and frankly, neither do I. No matter how old I get, and no matter how old she gets, I think I'll still love to lay down next to her and hold her close. She told me a while back that she misses being hugged. She misses physical contact; the closeness of personal touch. But this makes up for it in spades.
She was still awake as I got ready to leave at 7:00 p.m., so I turned the television on for her. I left the volume low enough to where it wouldn't bother her roommate, but it might occupy Mom's mind while she was awake. The aides will come in later and turn it off.
It's good to have things back to semi-normal. Or new normal. Or pseudo-normal. At least we're more comfortable feeling as though we're back where we should be.
And maybe it will stay that way for a while.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
We're Springing Her From Da Joint
Tomorrow Mom will be released from the hospital.
It seems as though the doctors agree there should be two weeks between her angioplasty and any other surgery. That means the carotid surgery will have to wait until its scheduled date of September 12th. Barring any more bleeding issues, heart attacks, infections, too-thin blood, pestilence or plague, we hope this will take place.
But we all know what's happened when we've planned on a surgery date before.
Son came up yesterday with Cutie at the special request of his grandmother before she went in for the angioplasty. Today I let Son do the visiting with Mom while I stayed home and played with Cutie, because to be perfectly honest, I was exhausted. Countless hours at the hospital every day will do that to a person. Sis has been putting in overtime as well, and both of us could use a week in the Bahamas about now.
At least now we can go back to our semi-regular routine of every other day. I'm hoping when we get Mom moved into her permanent residence we can cut down a bit on the visits without the intense feelings of guilt both of us seem to have if one of us doesn't go to see her every day.
And it would be so very much easier if that place was only two minutes from my house.
From my keyboard to God's ear....
It seems as though the doctors agree there should be two weeks between her angioplasty and any other surgery. That means the carotid surgery will have to wait until its scheduled date of September 12th. Barring any more bleeding issues, heart attacks, infections, too-thin blood, pestilence or plague, we hope this will take place.
But we all know what's happened when we've planned on a surgery date before.
Son came up yesterday with Cutie at the special request of his grandmother before she went in for the angioplasty. Today I let Son do the visiting with Mom while I stayed home and played with Cutie, because to be perfectly honest, I was exhausted. Countless hours at the hospital every day will do that to a person. Sis has been putting in overtime as well, and both of us could use a week in the Bahamas about now.
At least now we can go back to our semi-regular routine of every other day. I'm hoping when we get Mom moved into her permanent residence we can cut down a bit on the visits without the intense feelings of guilt both of us seem to have if one of us doesn't go to see her every day.
And it would be so very much easier if that place was only two minutes from my house.
From my keyboard to God's ear....
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sooner Than We Thought
I fully planned on going to work this morning. However, I received a phone call from Sis, telling me Mom was having chest pains yet again.
It seems as though Doc had been in and tried to convince her to have the angioplasty. It apparently upset her so much that she started in with chest pains, proving that, HELLO, she needed the angioplasty.
When I got there things were under control again. Sis was ready to leave for work, and I had decided to take the day off to sit with Mom. And then the cardiac doctor came in.
I explained to him exactly how she felt. That she was scared, that she didn't want to hurt any more, that she was tired of being tired. And in a very gentle way, he somehow managed to convince her that there would be very little pain, almost nothing to be scared about, and that the procedure would give her more energy. In an amazing turn of events, she changed her mind and agreed to the procedure.
We took her down to the Cardiac Cath Lab about 11:00 a.m. About an hour later the cardiac doctor came out and told us they had found a significant blockage in the right artery leading to her heart, and he believed that was the cause of the heart attacks. He told us his associate would be putting a stent in to open the passage, and they'd keep us updated on the progress.
Mom came through it just fine, although it took a total of over four hours to complete. It seems as though her artery had many twists and turns, unlike the average bear, which caused the doctor no end of grief. However, when it came down to it, he stuck it out like a man and did what had to be done. He ended up placing two stents, and this after using four different sizes of balloons to compress the plaque built up inside the artery.
The artery was 99.1% blocked.
After she returned to her room I stayed with her to make sure she didn't move the leg they had to cut into in order to reach the vein that led to her heart for the time prescribed by the doctor. The first few hours were a piece of cake, but the last couple were a trial. She kept complaining of cramping feet and aching ankles, sore knees and an aching back. She kept me busy until I was able to talk a nurse into some pain meds for her that knocked her out again. I finally left the hospital at 10:30 p.m.
Needless to say, this day has been 243 years long. I'm headed to bed, but with a very, very grateful heart. God answered a huge prayer of mine today, and I couldn't be happier.
It seems as though Doc had been in and tried to convince her to have the angioplasty. It apparently upset her so much that she started in with chest pains, proving that, HELLO, she needed the angioplasty.
When I got there things were under control again. Sis was ready to leave for work, and I had decided to take the day off to sit with Mom. And then the cardiac doctor came in.
I explained to him exactly how she felt. That she was scared, that she didn't want to hurt any more, that she was tired of being tired. And in a very gentle way, he somehow managed to convince her that there would be very little pain, almost nothing to be scared about, and that the procedure would give her more energy. In an amazing turn of events, she changed her mind and agreed to the procedure.
We took her down to the Cardiac Cath Lab about 11:00 a.m. About an hour later the cardiac doctor came out and told us they had found a significant blockage in the right artery leading to her heart, and he believed that was the cause of the heart attacks. He told us his associate would be putting a stent in to open the passage, and they'd keep us updated on the progress.
Mom came through it just fine, although it took a total of over four hours to complete. It seems as though her artery had many twists and turns, unlike the average bear, which caused the doctor no end of grief. However, when it came down to it, he stuck it out like a man and did what had to be done. He ended up placing two stents, and this after using four different sizes of balloons to compress the plaque built up inside the artery.
The artery was 99.1% blocked.
After she returned to her room I stayed with her to make sure she didn't move the leg they had to cut into in order to reach the vein that led to her heart for the time prescribed by the doctor. The first few hours were a piece of cake, but the last couple were a trial. She kept complaining of cramping feet and aching ankles, sore knees and an aching back. She kept me busy until I was able to talk a nurse into some pain meds for her that knocked her out again. I finally left the hospital at 10:30 p.m.
Needless to say, this day has been 243 years long. I'm headed to bed, but with a very, very grateful heart. God answered a huge prayer of mine today, and I couldn't be happier.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tests And Results
Today was joy and agony all in the same day.
Mom got to do her video swallow test again today. She's been on nectar-thick liquids since the last time she was in the hospital because the video swallow test she did then showed she was unable to swallow thin liquids without danger of aspirating some of them. However, today she passed the test with flying colors!
We were so happy that we called her speech therapist at the rehab center to tell her. Mom told her that whenever they asked her to swallow she kept hearing Kelli, her speech therapist, saying, "Norma! You're not paying attention to me! Tuck your chin!" and that got her through the test. Kelli was thrilled to hear it.
Mom has decided she does not want to go through with the heart cath. We tried several times to explain to her what was involved, but she keeps associating it with the bypass surgery some of our relatives have had rather than a less invasive procedure. She keeps saying, "I don't want to hurt anymore. I've hurt for the past two months, and I don't want to hurt anymore." Nothing we say can convince her it won't hurt or will hurt very little.
The problem is that her right carotid is blocked 95%, and her left is blocked 89%. Without the cardiac cath, there will be no surgery on her carotids. The doctors believe she would have another heart attack on the table if they attempted surgery without first trying to fix what they now believe to be a blockage in her heart.
So we're stuck.
The only other option I can think of is to let it go for now, then possibly get her to have the procedure done at a later date along with one of the carotid surgeries. Then again, she may never want to have it done. Of course, there is always the chance of another heart attack or stroke.
Yes, she suffers from dementia. No, she doesn't think clearly a lot of the time. But in the end, it's her life. If it's going to scare her to death to have the cath, we aren't going to force it on her. We'll just hope and pray she comes around to it in her own time.
And we'll hope that time is soon.
Mom got to do her video swallow test again today. She's been on nectar-thick liquids since the last time she was in the hospital because the video swallow test she did then showed she was unable to swallow thin liquids without danger of aspirating some of them. However, today she passed the test with flying colors!
We were so happy that we called her speech therapist at the rehab center to tell her. Mom told her that whenever they asked her to swallow she kept hearing Kelli, her speech therapist, saying, "Norma! You're not paying attention to me! Tuck your chin!" and that got her through the test. Kelli was thrilled to hear it.
Mom has decided she does not want to go through with the heart cath. We tried several times to explain to her what was involved, but she keeps associating it with the bypass surgery some of our relatives have had rather than a less invasive procedure. She keeps saying, "I don't want to hurt anymore. I've hurt for the past two months, and I don't want to hurt anymore." Nothing we say can convince her it won't hurt or will hurt very little.
The problem is that her right carotid is blocked 95%, and her left is blocked 89%. Without the cardiac cath, there will be no surgery on her carotids. The doctors believe she would have another heart attack on the table if they attempted surgery without first trying to fix what they now believe to be a blockage in her heart.
So we're stuck.
The only other option I can think of is to let it go for now, then possibly get her to have the procedure done at a later date along with one of the carotid surgeries. Then again, she may never want to have it done. Of course, there is always the chance of another heart attack or stroke.
Yes, she suffers from dementia. No, she doesn't think clearly a lot of the time. But in the end, it's her life. If it's going to scare her to death to have the cath, we aren't going to force it on her. We'll just hope and pray she comes around to it in her own time.
And we'll hope that time is soon.
A Total Eclipse Of The Heart
Remember those chest pains I mentioned Mom having? It seems as though they weren't so banal.
They were her second heart attack.
This morning I found out from her doctor that he believes she did indeed have a heart attack in addition to the stroke, and that before she received a transfusion this time she suffered another heart attack. He assured me it was a mild one, but a heart attack nevertheless.
How much more does this woman have to go through???
Now he's talking cardiac catheterization to see what's going on inside her heart. With the anxiety she felt from the scope alone, I can only guess what will happen to her blood pressure when she finds out about this. She'll be scared to death.
They were her second heart attack.
This morning I found out from her doctor that he believes she did indeed have a heart attack in addition to the stroke, and that before she received a transfusion this time she suffered another heart attack. He assured me it was a mild one, but a heart attack nevertheless.
How much more does this woman have to go through???
Now he's talking cardiac catheterization to see what's going on inside her heart. With the anxiety she felt from the scope alone, I can only guess what will happen to her blood pressure when she finds out about this. She'll be scared to death.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Three Little Spots
Five pints of blood, two pints of plasma and a partridge in a pear tree later....
The GI doctor did another scope today. Mom was much more able to tolerate it and a deeper sedation, so more could be accomplished. Today there was no blood to be seen anywhere, so we're blessed that the doctor was able to get in yesterday to get the lay of the land and find the general area to look today.
There were three tiny spots, each about twice the size of the end of an earring post. That's all. Just those three little spots. But add Coumadin to the mix and those three spots become bleeders. The bleeders seep rather than bleed heavily, so it takes a while for Mom's hemoglobin to change. But since they don't clot off, the bleeding is a dangerous thing.
The doctor was able to cauterize all three spots, hopefully eliminating the bleeding problem. Our prayer is that it doesn't show up somewhere else. Mom seems to be doing well, other than having some chest pains. They did an another echocardiogram on her heart today just to make sure all was well, and they've had her on the telemetry unit to keep an eye on how her heart is doing throughout all of this.
Today she was able to eat for the first time in three days. The diarrhea has stopped, but then again, there really hasn't been anything in her stomach except blood. We'll wait out the next couple of days to see how things go. We've asked for her to be able to sit in a chair and perhaps have physical therapy come in so that she doesn't lose what she's gained so far. Throughout this whole ordeal it seems it's been two steps forward, three steps back. We're hoping it turns around as of today.
The GI doctor did another scope today. Mom was much more able to tolerate it and a deeper sedation, so more could be accomplished. Today there was no blood to be seen anywhere, so we're blessed that the doctor was able to get in yesterday to get the lay of the land and find the general area to look today.
There were three tiny spots, each about twice the size of the end of an earring post. That's all. Just those three little spots. But add Coumadin to the mix and those three spots become bleeders. The bleeders seep rather than bleed heavily, so it takes a while for Mom's hemoglobin to change. But since they don't clot off, the bleeding is a dangerous thing.
The doctor was able to cauterize all three spots, hopefully eliminating the bleeding problem. Our prayer is that it doesn't show up somewhere else. Mom seems to be doing well, other than having some chest pains. They did an another echocardiogram on her heart today just to make sure all was well, and they've had her on the telemetry unit to keep an eye on how her heart is doing throughout all of this.
Today she was able to eat for the first time in three days. The diarrhea has stopped, but then again, there really hasn't been anything in her stomach except blood. We'll wait out the next couple of days to see how things go. We've asked for her to be able to sit in a chair and perhaps have physical therapy come in so that she doesn't lose what she's gained so far. Throughout this whole ordeal it seems it's been two steps forward, three steps back. We're hoping it turns around as of today.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Ladies And Gentlemen, We Have A Bleeder!
After the scope today the GI doctor came out to tell us that Mom does indeed have a bleeder. However, due to her weakened condition he was only able to sedate her lightly and to keep the scope inside for a very short time before he had to stop.
During that time he saw both old blood in the stomach as well as fresh blood in the duodenal area, though he couldn't stay long enough to see exactly where it was coming from. Mom's vital signs started dropping, so he stopped. His plan is to build her up with more blood, which was done today, and then try again tomorrow.
What we didn't realize was that her hemoglobin was again down to dangerous levels. We were told initially it was 7.5, then 7.1, which is still bad, but not as bad as the 4 she was at the last time. However, it turned out she was at 5 this time. With all the blood and plasma she's had, she's now up over 11.
On a positive note, she's been cleared of the C Diff. She's had two negative tests so far, so that means no more isolation for her. However, she's still suffering from lots of stools, probably from all the blood. The nurse tonight said she wants to give her Immodium if it keeps up.
I had to get mean today. Mom hasn't been up and about in a few days, and that causes her muscles to cramp up. Mostly her back, hip, leg and foot. Today she was hurting so much she was crying no matter what we did. I asked the nurse if we couldn't get her something stronger for the pain, and she told me our doctor likely wouldn't order anything stronger because he was known for that.
And she left it at that.
And I almost left it at that.
And then I looked at Mom again and saw how much she hurt. So I went to the nurse and told her that I'd like for her to call the doctor anyway, and if he gave her any guff about giving Mom something that was stronger I wanted to talk to him personally, because it was ridiculous in this day and age to have someone suffer when drugs are readily available to ease pain.
I went back in to Mom's room, and she told me we'd probably be fired from that doctor. I told her if we were that doctor could take a big bite out of my nether regions, because there were plenty of others in the city.
We got morphine within fifteen minutes, and Mom finally got some rest.
And it's after 10 p.m., so I plan to do the same. Only without the morphine.
During that time he saw both old blood in the stomach as well as fresh blood in the duodenal area, though he couldn't stay long enough to see exactly where it was coming from. Mom's vital signs started dropping, so he stopped. His plan is to build her up with more blood, which was done today, and then try again tomorrow.
What we didn't realize was that her hemoglobin was again down to dangerous levels. We were told initially it was 7.5, then 7.1, which is still bad, but not as bad as the 4 she was at the last time. However, it turned out she was at 5 this time. With all the blood and plasma she's had, she's now up over 11.
On a positive note, she's been cleared of the C Diff. She's had two negative tests so far, so that means no more isolation for her. However, she's still suffering from lots of stools, probably from all the blood. The nurse tonight said she wants to give her Immodium if it keeps up.
I had to get mean today. Mom hasn't been up and about in a few days, and that causes her muscles to cramp up. Mostly her back, hip, leg and foot. Today she was hurting so much she was crying no matter what we did. I asked the nurse if we couldn't get her something stronger for the pain, and she told me our doctor likely wouldn't order anything stronger because he was known for that.
And she left it at that.
And I almost left it at that.
And then I looked at Mom again and saw how much she hurt. So I went to the nurse and told her that I'd like for her to call the doctor anyway, and if he gave her any guff about giving Mom something that was stronger I wanted to talk to him personally, because it was ridiculous in this day and age to have someone suffer when drugs are readily available to ease pain.
I went back in to Mom's room, and she told me we'd probably be fired from that doctor. I told her if we were that doctor could take a big bite out of my nether regions, because there were plenty of others in the city.
We got morphine within fifteen minutes, and Mom finally got some rest.
And it's after 10 p.m., so I plan to do the same. Only without the morphine.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Here We Go Again
Mom is back in the hospital.
I got a call at work today about noon telling me she had been sick in therapy and had thrown up blood clots. This after a solid day of constant diarrhea the day before, which was unusual even with the C Diff. It got so bad the doctor prescribed something stronger than Immodium AD for her to take to stop it, even with the C Diff.
They called an ambulance to take her to the hospital yet again, and Sis and I met her there. After several tests were done she was admitted and two pints each of frozen platelets and blood were ordered. It took until 5:30 p.m. to get her to a room, and by the time Sis and I finally left at 10 p.m. the blood and platelets still had not arrived.
Sis and I make quite a pair when it comes to taking care of Mom. We have our differences, but when we're in a hospital situation it's almost comical to see us work together. One of the nurses, seeing us turn Mom tonight for the second or third time, told us we really didn't have to do that. She'd be happy to do it for us. We explained we were used to it and considered ourselves to be consummate professionals by this time.
We advised the nurses on how to clean Mom up, how to administer medication, what cream to use on her behind, what type of diet she was on, how often she had to be turned, what to watch out for concerning her dementia, and a host of other things.
Then we asked for the report on the chest x-ray and the EKG that was done in the Emergency Room to aid us in our diagnostic prowess.
We aren't MD's, but we play them on the blog. And sometimes I think we might even know more about Mom's case than they do.
I'm thinking they will do another endoscopy on Mom tomorrow to see where all the bleeding is coming from this time. One would think that if she's vomiting clots it must be from somewhere in the upper GI tract. My hope is that they don't have to do yet another colonoscopy.
I'll be meeting with her doctor tomorrow morning at dawn thirty to see what he has to say. I'll try to get an update out later.
I got a call at work today about noon telling me she had been sick in therapy and had thrown up blood clots. This after a solid day of constant diarrhea the day before, which was unusual even with the C Diff. It got so bad the doctor prescribed something stronger than Immodium AD for her to take to stop it, even with the C Diff.
They called an ambulance to take her to the hospital yet again, and Sis and I met her there. After several tests were done she was admitted and two pints each of frozen platelets and blood were ordered. It took until 5:30 p.m. to get her to a room, and by the time Sis and I finally left at 10 p.m. the blood and platelets still had not arrived.
Sis and I make quite a pair when it comes to taking care of Mom. We have our differences, but when we're in a hospital situation it's almost comical to see us work together. One of the nurses, seeing us turn Mom tonight for the second or third time, told us we really didn't have to do that. She'd be happy to do it for us. We explained we were used to it and considered ourselves to be consummate professionals by this time.
We advised the nurses on how to clean Mom up, how to administer medication, what cream to use on her behind, what type of diet she was on, how often she had to be turned, what to watch out for concerning her dementia, and a host of other things.
Then we asked for the report on the chest x-ray and the EKG that was done in the Emergency Room to aid us in our diagnostic prowess.
We aren't MD's, but we play them on the blog. And sometimes I think we might even know more about Mom's case than they do.
I'm thinking they will do another endoscopy on Mom tomorrow to see where all the bleeding is coming from this time. One would think that if she's vomiting clots it must be from somewhere in the upper GI tract. My hope is that they don't have to do yet another colonoscopy.
I'll be meeting with her doctor tomorrow morning at dawn thirty to see what he has to say. I'll try to get an update out later.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Biting Off More Than I Should Chew
It seems I am more ambitious than smart.
My idea to take Mom to the house for an afternoon is obviously not a good one. Son pointed out that she is still suffering from C Diff, and to take her to the house might be a bigger mountain than I should tackle. Someone else pointed out that it would be extremely hard to handle this by myself. While I had hoped to enlist the help of Hubster, I can see that even with his help it would probably be more than should be done. And, with the infection still present, it really isn't smart to do something like this.
Add to that the fact that I feel like a rat not getting the OK from Sis, and you pretty much have the whole thing wrapped up. Mom's not going home for a visit.
Instead, I plan to take her to Dairy Queen and over to see one of her friends who is due for some major surgery in the next few weeks. Mom won't be getting out of the car, but the friend will come out to visit for a few minutes. They've missed each other, and with Mom so far away and with the infection, it's been hard for her friend to see her on a regular basis.
I think the visit tomorrow will be short. I have much to do this weekend and a very short time in which to do it. Nowadays things are too busy too much of the time.
Appreciate your family. Love them, and let them know they're loved. You never know when life can change.
My idea to take Mom to the house for an afternoon is obviously not a good one. Son pointed out that she is still suffering from C Diff, and to take her to the house might be a bigger mountain than I should tackle. Someone else pointed out that it would be extremely hard to handle this by myself. While I had hoped to enlist the help of Hubster, I can see that even with his help it would probably be more than should be done. And, with the infection still present, it really isn't smart to do something like this.
Add to that the fact that I feel like a rat not getting the OK from Sis, and you pretty much have the whole thing wrapped up. Mom's not going home for a visit.
Instead, I plan to take her to Dairy Queen and over to see one of her friends who is due for some major surgery in the next few weeks. Mom won't be getting out of the car, but the friend will come out to visit for a few minutes. They've missed each other, and with Mom so far away and with the infection, it's been hard for her friend to see her on a regular basis.
I think the visit tomorrow will be short. I have much to do this weekend and a very short time in which to do it. Nowadays things are too busy too much of the time.
Appreciate your family. Love them, and let them know they're loved. You never know when life can change.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Would You Like Some Gizzards With That?
Mom has been craving chicken livers all week long. Every time I talk to her on the phone or see her, all she can talk about is (1) her hair appointment today and what time it is, and (2) chicken livers.
She leads a wildly exciting life at the rehab center.
Today it finally really was Friday, and she finally got her hair done. One down, one to go.
For lunch today I decided to try out a place that had been recommended by several people at work. When I mentioned Mom wanted chicken livers, they said this was the definitive place to go:
She leads a wildly exciting life at the rehab center.
Today it finally really was Friday, and she finally got her hair done. One down, one to go.
For lunch today I decided to try out a place that had been recommended by several people at work. When I mentioned Mom wanted chicken livers, they said this was the definitive place to go:
And so I went Chris went.
I decided to get the full order of livers instead of the half order since I was going to have some for lunch and give Mom the rest for dinner. I thought I might get twelve or fifteen livers. Little did I know that I would get almost TWO POUNDS of chicken livers in the full order.
I ate lunch, then took the rest to the rehab center. I felt kind of like I was in a Bible story with loaves and fishes, only this time it was chicken livers I was dispensing to the residents. And yea, verily, the livers did multiply until all were fed.
Afterwards there was still half a dinner plate full of livers left for Mom that I thought she'd never finish. But she ate every single last one, down to the crumbs. And then they served the "A Taste of Paris" dinner they'd prepared for tonight so she ate half of that. This is the same woman who used to eat a tablespoon of this and a teaspoon of that. Now that she's feeling better she's eating like a farm hand.
With apologies to all you farm hands out there.
During dinner there was a lady at a table across the room from Mom who was new as of today. She was disoriented and thought it was breakfast time instead of dinner time. As the meal wore on she became more and more agitated, and it was apparent she was scared out of her wits. She didn't recognize her surroundings or any of the people there. She didn't know where she was or why. I went over to try to calm her down since Mom was doing well, but she was inconsolable. She wanted her son, and she kept asking for someone to let her speak to him on the phone. The poor woman just wept and wept.
Finally, seeing they weren't going to be able to calm her down short of drugging her, the staff called her son and had him speak to her. Her granddaughter showed up within the next few minutes, and her son followed soon thereafter.
During all of this I kept thinking about Mom. Sure, it's been rough dealing with her the way she's been. It's been rough knowing the Mom we knew will likely never come back. It's been rough dealing with the challenges she has to face both now and in the future.
But all in all, we've been blessed.
Sure, Mom sees relatives that are actually other people. But she knows where she is. She may not know what day it is, but she knows why she is where she is. She may not be able to take herself to the bathroom, but she's not scared to be left at the rehab center by herself. She may not be altogether "with it" but she has it together enough to carry on a conversation, be in control of her emotions, and tell us she loves us.
And that's worth two pounds of chicken livers any day.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I Have A Plan
Since I took Mom for the drive last week I've been thinking. That's always a dangerous thing to have happen, but it may be really dangerous this time.
I'm thinking about picking Mom up Sunday and taking her to her house to spend the day.
I thought I could fix her a nice lunch, let her take a nap in her own bed, feed her dinner, then take her back to the rehab center. It would give her a day away, but it would put her back into familiar surroundings for a while.
Of course, I'd have to handle all the transfers from wheelchair to bed and/or toilet and back by myself. If there was any cleaning up to do, it would be up to me.
And if Mom gets really depressed when she has to go back, that will be my fault as well.
Because really, I don't have to take her there. I can just let her live where she is for the time being until we move her to either the assisted living place or the nursing home, whichever she is most able to handle.
Is it cruel to take her home again? Or would it be nice for her to visit the place?
Sis will be against it totally. She had a friend whose mother was in much the same situation as Mom. They took her home for Thanksgiving and it took her until Christmas to recover. If I do this, I don't think I'll tell Sis.
I think I'm looking at this as a way of getting Mom ready to visit for Thanksgiving. Maybe if I can take her home like this several times before Thanksgiving, it won't be such a big deal for her if we have Thanksgiving at the house the way we always do.
But I need advice. Will it harm her to do this? What do you think?
I'm thinking about picking Mom up Sunday and taking her to her house to spend the day.
I thought I could fix her a nice lunch, let her take a nap in her own bed, feed her dinner, then take her back to the rehab center. It would give her a day away, but it would put her back into familiar surroundings for a while.
Of course, I'd have to handle all the transfers from wheelchair to bed and/or toilet and back by myself. If there was any cleaning up to do, it would be up to me.
And if Mom gets really depressed when she has to go back, that will be my fault as well.
Because really, I don't have to take her there. I can just let her live where she is for the time being until we move her to either the assisted living place or the nursing home, whichever she is most able to handle.
Is it cruel to take her home again? Or would it be nice for her to visit the place?
Sis will be against it totally. She had a friend whose mother was in much the same situation as Mom. They took her home for Thanksgiving and it took her until Christmas to recover. If I do this, I don't think I'll tell Sis.
I think I'm looking at this as a way of getting Mom ready to visit for Thanksgiving. Maybe if I can take her home like this several times before Thanksgiving, it won't be such a big deal for her if we have Thanksgiving at the house the way we always do.
But I need advice. Will it harm her to do this? What do you think?
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Is It Friday Yet?
It's been a week of Fridays so far in Mom's mind.
Every day when I speak to her, either on the phone or in person, she asks me what time her hair appointment is that day. And every day I tell her that her appointment isn't until Friday and not to worry about it because they'll come to get her when it's time. And every day she tells me that she thought that day was Friday. Again.
It must be like living the movie Groundhog Day in real life. I don't envy her at all.
However, I must admit to running out of patience tonight when she made me call Sis to find out when the dadgum hair appointment was.
"Hello?"
"WHEN. IS. THE. HAIR. APPOINTMENT. BECAUSE. MOM. IS. DRIVING. ME. CRAZY. TONIGHT." thru gritted teeth.
"So what else is new?"
Her appetite has picked up quite a bit. She does best with finger food, but manages well with a spoon if she can only see what is on her plate. Her eyesight is severely compromised, so the best she can do is "feel" her way around the plate with the spoon, catching what food she can as she scrapes her way around it. It works for her.
I tried to take her outside this evening, but we had a bathroom emergency. Since the aides were having a meeting with the wound care nurse, the emergency turned into a mess. Because of that they just cleaned it up and got her ready for bed. I suggested they try sitz baths with her to ease the pain on her behind, but the cream they're using may be numbing the area somewhat. I hope it is, because it looks just terrible.
Tomorrow is Sis' day. The next day I go back will be Friday.
Again.
Every day when I speak to her, either on the phone or in person, she asks me what time her hair appointment is that day. And every day I tell her that her appointment isn't until Friday and not to worry about it because they'll come to get her when it's time. And every day she tells me that she thought that day was Friday. Again.
It must be like living the movie Groundhog Day in real life. I don't envy her at all.
However, I must admit to running out of patience tonight when she made me call Sis to find out when the dadgum hair appointment was.
"Hello?"
"WHEN. IS. THE. HAIR. APPOINTMENT. BECAUSE. MOM. IS. DRIVING. ME. CRAZY. TONIGHT." thru gritted teeth.
"So what else is new?"
Her appetite has picked up quite a bit. She does best with finger food, but manages well with a spoon if she can only see what is on her plate. Her eyesight is severely compromised, so the best she can do is "feel" her way around the plate with the spoon, catching what food she can as she scrapes her way around it. It works for her.
I tried to take her outside this evening, but we had a bathroom emergency. Since the aides were having a meeting with the wound care nurse, the emergency turned into a mess. Because of that they just cleaned it up and got her ready for bed. I suggested they try sitz baths with her to ease the pain on her behind, but the cream they're using may be numbing the area somewhat. I hope it is, because it looks just terrible.
Tomorrow is Sis' day. The next day I go back will be Friday.
Again.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
It Isn't All Candy And Flowers, Folks
Mom had one of the aides dial the phone for her today so she could call me at work.
It seems as though the C Diff came back with a vengeance today. Mom told me she couldn't stand much more of this, and my heart broke for her knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do. She cried and cried as she spoke, and I tried to console her the best I could until Sis got there. Thankfully she was only minutes away.
I left work early in order to see the doctor and find out what his thoughts were. I caught him just as he was leaving since I got there late. He took the time to tell me everything that was going on, including the fact that he was going to increase the medicine for her C Diff, run another test to see if it was the weaker or stronger form, and continue with a different cream for her raw behind. He answered any questions I had, and then told me we may actually have to hold off on her surgery yet again if this stuff doesn't clear up. He realizes it's a risk, but he believes it's more of a risk to send her into surgery with this problem.
I went in to see Mom after speaking with Doc, and found her being cleaned up once again. I knew her bottom was raw, but I had no idea how raw it was. It was bleeding from open sores. Every time she has to be cleaned up, it feels like fire attacking her behind.
And there's not a thing we can do about it.
While Sis and I were there she had another episode. She pressed the button for an aide right away, but she was in so much pain that Sis did something I've never seen her do before. She put on a pair of gloves, got a warm washcloth, had me roll Mom over, and went to work.
You have to realize how big a deal this is. This is the same sister who gags when anyone even mentions the word "snot" - the same sister who gagged when she changed her own children's dirty diapers - and yet she did this for Mom without blinking twice. I was so proud of her I almost cried.
Of course Mom, upon finding out what Sis was about to do and knowing her history, said, "Don't you let her throw up on my butt! That'll hurt more than the poop!"
And then she laughed so hard she had to be cleaned up even more.
Please pray for this crap (and I do mean CRAP) to heal soon. Mom is so weary of it.
It seems as though the C Diff came back with a vengeance today. Mom told me she couldn't stand much more of this, and my heart broke for her knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do. She cried and cried as she spoke, and I tried to console her the best I could until Sis got there. Thankfully she was only minutes away.
I left work early in order to see the doctor and find out what his thoughts were. I caught him just as he was leaving since I got there late. He took the time to tell me everything that was going on, including the fact that he was going to increase the medicine for her C Diff, run another test to see if it was the weaker or stronger form, and continue with a different cream for her raw behind. He answered any questions I had, and then told me we may actually have to hold off on her surgery yet again if this stuff doesn't clear up. He realizes it's a risk, but he believes it's more of a risk to send her into surgery with this problem.
I went in to see Mom after speaking with Doc, and found her being cleaned up once again. I knew her bottom was raw, but I had no idea how raw it was. It was bleeding from open sores. Every time she has to be cleaned up, it feels like fire attacking her behind.
And there's not a thing we can do about it.
While Sis and I were there she had another episode. She pressed the button for an aide right away, but she was in so much pain that Sis did something I've never seen her do before. She put on a pair of gloves, got a warm washcloth, had me roll Mom over, and went to work.
You have to realize how big a deal this is. This is the same sister who gags when anyone even mentions the word "snot" - the same sister who gagged when she changed her own children's dirty diapers - and yet she did this for Mom without blinking twice. I was so proud of her I almost cried.
Of course Mom, upon finding out what Sis was about to do and knowing her history, said, "Don't you let her throw up on my butt! That'll hurt more than the poop!"
And then she laughed so hard she had to be cleaned up even more.
Please pray for this crap (and I do mean CRAP) to heal soon. Mom is so weary of it.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Call Me Anytime
Today I got a call from the rehab center. They usually call when Mom changes medication, or to give me her hemoglobin or INR count, or to let me know she needs this or that.
But today's call was different.
IT WAS FROM MOM.
Please bear in mind that Mom hasn't called me on her own since June 12, 2008, the night of her stroke. She hasn't been able to dial the numbers. And to be honest, I'd all but given up hope that she'd be able to use her new FotoDialer that we got her for her birthday.
After I got everyone's photos loaded into it and the numbers programmed in, I took it to her along with a phone from her house. The phone in the rehab center is difficult for her to use, so I hooked up hers instead. I worked with her for fifteen minutes, always using the same, measured tone, always saying the same three things - "Pick up the phone. Set it to the side. Press the button next to the person you want to call." She just couldn't seem to get it. So we stopped.
I asked Sis to work with her the next day, and I asked the nurses to have the occupational therapist work with her as well. Then I forgot about it all.
Until today.
I was sitting here at work when my cell phone went off. It was my cousin, wanting to know the address for this blog. While I was talking to her, my phone's call waiting went off. I answered, and Mom was on the other end!
It didn't matter that she thought today was Friday and wanted to know why I wasn't coming up until after work because she was supposed to get her hair done and wanted me there. It didn't matter that she told me we should have gotten ice cream for Raymond, the imaginary aide that "went with us" on the ride yesterday, because "he was most disappointed and told her so" today. It didn't even matter that she dropped the phone while we were talking.
MOM CALLED ME. ON HER OWN.
And that, my friends, has made my whole day.
But today's call was different.
IT WAS FROM MOM.
Please bear in mind that Mom hasn't called me on her own since June 12, 2008, the night of her stroke. She hasn't been able to dial the numbers. And to be honest, I'd all but given up hope that she'd be able to use her new FotoDialer that we got her for her birthday.
After I got everyone's photos loaded into it and the numbers programmed in, I took it to her along with a phone from her house. The phone in the rehab center is difficult for her to use, so I hooked up hers instead. I worked with her for fifteen minutes, always using the same, measured tone, always saying the same three things - "Pick up the phone. Set it to the side. Press the button next to the person you want to call." She just couldn't seem to get it. So we stopped.
I asked Sis to work with her the next day, and I asked the nurses to have the occupational therapist work with her as well. Then I forgot about it all.
Until today.
I was sitting here at work when my cell phone went off. It was my cousin, wanting to know the address for this blog. While I was talking to her, my phone's call waiting went off. I answered, and Mom was on the other end!
It didn't matter that she thought today was Friday and wanted to know why I wasn't coming up until after work because she was supposed to get her hair done and wanted me there. It didn't matter that she told me we should have gotten ice cream for Raymond, the imaginary aide that "went with us" on the ride yesterday, because "he was most disappointed and told her so" today. It didn't even matter that she dropped the phone while we were talking.
MOM CALLED ME. ON HER OWN.
And that, my friends, has made my whole day.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
C'mon Momma, Let's Go For A Drive
Today I broke Mom out.
We went for a drive, she and I. We were gone from the rehab center almost two hours, just driving around, looking at places, visiting with people. I think she thoroughly enjoyed herself.
While we were out we stopped and picked up flyers for condos that were for sale in the area. We hit several different condo neighborhoods. and found several different condos that she thought she'd like to live in some day. "Some day" is the operative phrase here. Reality is that she will likely never be able to live in a condo, but it made her happy to shop, so shop we did.
We stopped at a drive-in and had popcorn chicken and a chocolate milkshake with extra chocolate. She ate half the chicken and drank all of the milkshake. We drove by Sis' house and she and her husband came out to visit for a while. They also helped pull Mom up in the seat, because she'd drifted south as we drove.
From there it was back to the rehab center. Mom was tired out and ready for bed by the time we got there. Once inside she settled gratefully into bed, thanked me for a good time, and was out like a light.
It was a good day.
We went for a drive, she and I. We were gone from the rehab center almost two hours, just driving around, looking at places, visiting with people. I think she thoroughly enjoyed herself.
While we were out we stopped and picked up flyers for condos that were for sale in the area. We hit several different condo neighborhoods. and found several different condos that she thought she'd like to live in some day. "Some day" is the operative phrase here. Reality is that she will likely never be able to live in a condo, but it made her happy to shop, so shop we did.
We stopped at a drive-in and had popcorn chicken and a chocolate milkshake with extra chocolate. She ate half the chicken and drank all of the milkshake. We drove by Sis' house and she and her husband came out to visit for a while. They also helped pull Mom up in the seat, because she'd drifted south as we drove.
From there it was back to the rehab center. Mom was tired out and ready for bed by the time we got there. Once inside she settled gratefully into bed, thanked me for a good time, and was out like a light.
It was a good day.
Such A Deal...
For the past week or so I've been driving Mom's car. It's an ugly story having to do with transmissions and transfer cases and bearings and stuff you'd really be bored by, so I won't take the opportunity to let your mind delve into the pit of all things automotively wrong with my life at this moment.
You're welcome.
Her car is a 1999 Buick Century. The only thing wrong with it is that it has a cassette player instead of a CD player. It's in mint condition...the typical "little old lady" car.
And it has a whopping 21,000 miles on it.
I'm not a mathematician, but I think that averages out to about 2333 miles per year, more or less. My tennis shoes get more wear than the tires on this car, and I hardly ever walk anywhere, as is evidenced by the size of my behind.
Now, the original plan was this: Pay off the car, purchase a Smart Car, hand my car down to The Girl, and her car would go to The Boy on his sixteenth birthday. Now we're not so sure. We're actually thinking of buying the Buick from Mom.
It will take a lot to make up the difference in payments over the cost of gasoline if we buy the Smart Car. A whole lot. With the Buick we'll have a car that will be less gas efficient, but a lot more comfortable. It will also be able to hold Mom's wheelchair, meaning we'll be able to take her places relatively easily.
And to top it all off, with Mom's dementia, she'll think we're still taking her places in HER car, which will make her feel like she still has some sort of independence. I can't help but think that's a good thing.
The problem will come when she wants to trade it in.....
You're welcome.
Her car is a 1999 Buick Century. The only thing wrong with it is that it has a cassette player instead of a CD player. It's in mint condition...the typical "little old lady" car.
And it has a whopping 21,000 miles on it.
I'm not a mathematician, but I think that averages out to about 2333 miles per year, more or less. My tennis shoes get more wear than the tires on this car, and I hardly ever walk anywhere, as is evidenced by the size of my behind.
Now, the original plan was this: Pay off the car, purchase a Smart Car, hand my car down to The Girl, and her car would go to The Boy on his sixteenth birthday. Now we're not so sure. We're actually thinking of buying the Buick from Mom.
It will take a lot to make up the difference in payments over the cost of gasoline if we buy the Smart Car. A whole lot. With the Buick we'll have a car that will be less gas efficient, but a lot more comfortable. It will also be able to hold Mom's wheelchair, meaning we'll be able to take her places relatively easily.
And to top it all off, with Mom's dementia, she'll think we're still taking her places in HER car, which will make her feel like she still has some sort of independence. I can't help but think that's a good thing.
The problem will come when she wants to trade it in.....
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