Coming Up For Air

If you know me, you know we have spent the last week at a hospital. 

Mother was quite ill with a U.T.I./bladder infection named e-coli. She was fed lots of I.V. antibiotics and was sent home with more to take for ten days. 

But the doctors are more concerned over the four narrowing places in her small intestine than the infection, which they cleared up. 

They tell us she really needs surgery, but they are willing to try a very rigid diet first to see if this will prevent surgery.

Lord knows, we want to prevent surgery on an 86 year old woman. 

But: No more okra. No more tomatoes. No more cornbread. No more squash. No more onion. How cruel can they be?

Of course, there are a lot of foods she can have, and we have all agreed she will look at what can I have versus what I can't have. 

The good news is she has to eat six times a day.

Other Brother came down with a respiratory thing and had to drop out of the hospital stays. 

The rest of us (at least me, anyhow) are exhausted.

I won't talk about my pain, because I ain't got room on this blog.

But during this week long siege, my house became a wreck. After all, you come home long enough to shower and change into clean clothes, but you aren't there long enough to clean the bathroom or wash  your dirty clothes. You are there long enough to eat a bowl of something, but not there long enough to wash the dishes. 

And speaking of dishes, while we were still in the month of January, my dishwasher quit working. I took a moment to call the repairman and he can fix it - February 9. 

And the fish died.

But at least Mother is home, a plan of action has been laid, we got some clothes washed, and even a dish or two.

I reckon we'll get another fish soon.

Keep praying, folks.

Lord knows we need it.

In Everyone's Life a Little Rain Must Fall...and Flowers will Usually Follow

The moon was high and pale, almost full. The sky was still black with wispy clouds hurrying by on their way to somewhere else.

The wind cut through  my coat as I stood waiting by the car for Husband to lock the door so we could leave.

It was our anniversary and we were headed south. I was beginning to get hungry.

We had decided not to spend a lot of money; no gifts, only eating at a  nice restaurant to celebrate. We'd had some extra expenses lately, and being as we were dumb enough to get married a month after Christmas, our pockets were a little empty.

I had anticipated the day, being with Husband of thirty-one years, just us, just 'doing', not rushing or anything.

Then at 4:45 a.m. the phone rang and it was Other Brother saying to "Put your britches on and get down here."

Mother was sick again.

Of course, we were all afraid it was another blockage and the ambulance hurriedly took her away, with all of us in tow.

Turns out she has a U.T.I. and maybe some other stuff, the tests will determine what that might be. She's losing blood somewhere as her count as gone from 12 at the doc's a few weeks ago to 10 when she was in the ER yesterday to 8 a little while ago.

But she is feeling better this morning, after fierce antibiotics given I.V. 

So, our anniversary didn't turn out exactly like we'd planned. Most of the day Husband was in the E.R. waiting room and I was in the E.R. with Mother.

We did get to eat out - if Wendy's gobbled down in the hospital counts.

When we got home though, we had flowers. Daughter had written in a card words sweet enough to make a grown man cry and had spent part of her meager money on a bouquet for us.

Older, younger, all the generations surround us.

Troubled or celebratory, they are the tapestry that makes our lives rich.

Thank God for what you have.

Mother Said There'd Be Days Like This

You may or may not have noticed that I have not blogged in several days.

Life can be so complicated sometimes, that blogging and other enjoyable things come to a halt.

Mother, as we speak, is in the hospital, and I, along with most of my other family, have been right there with her.

She has an intestinal blockage, which ain't good news no matter how you look at it.

We'll know either tonight or in the morning if surgery is imminent, and odds are, according to the doctor, surgery will be necessary since her body has not been able to pass it on its own.

Brother of Many Surgeries and His Wife both have the flu, and have anxiously called often for progress or lack thereof because they can't be present.

I know from experience, that is harder than long waits at the hospital.

Prayers appreciated for us all.

Private Grief in a Public Place

My father  had been quite ill and in the hospital for several days.

I  had a few hours of sleep and was getting ready to head back to the hospital. I was very tired, but my hair was a mess and I wanted to wash it before I went back.

Just as I got it washed, I heard someone pull up in front of our house. At that time, if someone was on our road, they were either lost, trying to find a private place to park for who knows what, or they were really coming to our house.

It was a cousin, who parked frantically and ran to our front door. He said I needed to get to the hospital right away, Daddy had taken a turn for the worse - much worse.

The cousin had tried to call, but they were working on the lower road and had accidentally cut the phone lines.

So with soaking wet hair, he took me to the hospital. Husband followed closely behind, as soon as he could lock up the house.

When we got there, I saw three people simultaneously.

The first was one of my mental health patients. She had bi-polar disorder with psychotic features, and I knew if she was hanging around the emergency room door, things weren't going well with her. She was staring at me as I got out of the car. I guess she'd never seen me in an old t-shirt and dripping wet hair.

The other two people I saw were my twin brothers. They had an identical look on their face, and they didn't have to say a word.

I knew my daddy was gone as soon as I saw them. The one standing nearest me (I can't remember which one)  opened his arms and I flew into them, sobbing. My other brother stood, patting me on the back, as we three cried for our daddy.

There was a separate part of me very aware that I had an unstable patient watching me fall completely apart. And somewhere in my brain I felt concern for her, hoping this would not make her go off the deep end.

Grieving like this, hearing something like this, in a very  public place is a terrible thing. There is nothing you can do to control what you do because you can't control what you hear and know.

The next day (or maybe that evening) I talked with someone from work and told them what the patient had witnessed, telling them to check on her.

But you know what? She had already called my office and warned them about me and the terrible state I was in.  She told them they needed to check on me and pray for me because my daddy had died.

Well, what do you know. She had been listening. She had learned how to behave appropriately in a sad situation. She had learned to set her own woes aside for the moment and think of someone else.

What she saw was a growing experience for her. It actually helped her.

What I came away with from that story is people are a lot stronger than we give them credit for. Our children are stronger, our elderly parents are stronger. Heck, even our mentally ill folks are stronger.

There's hope in this world, isn't there?

Because we know how to pull together when we need to the most.

So let folks know what is going on. Don't keep them in the dark to "protect" them from bad or sad news.

Give them the chance to grow.

Give them a chance to show you they can be strong too.

Which Way is Up? Look, in the Sky! I't s a Plane, It's a Big Old Bird! NO! It's Superman!!

These past few days have been a whirlwind. I thought being sick and in bed for so long was messing up my mind as to being oriented times whatever.

But there's nothing like being asleep for two hours, being awakened, rushing to a hospital and....waiting.

All night.

After the initial adrenalin rush and the crash into bed, it really becomes confusing. The 4th of July was spent asleep off and on, not that it mattered, as the monsoon season is upon us.

So I've been turned around and confused for a month now. If you see me crossing the street, please rush to help me, even if you aren't a Boy  Scout.  Thank you.

To try to get in the holiday spirit of doing something fun:

Yesterday we decided to go to the movies. This is no small decision for me, due to my back and legs. But I've always been a sucker for Superman, what can I say.

When I was a little girl, George Reeves was Superman. I loved him.

Then Christopher Reeve came on the scene, and I loved the first movie. The second was okay, and then it just got silly. (Do NOT tell me a man in tights that flies around is silly, okay?)

Dean Cain took over and won my heart in "The Adventures of Lois and Clark". I didn't think he would, because he didn't look like the typical blue eyed Caucasian male. He has a little Chinese in him, and his eyes are small and brown. But he became superman effortlessly and I loved him.

"Smallville" starring Tom Welling was pretty good the first year, but I lost interest because the show was geared for teenagers and I haven't been one of those in a while. Tom and Henry Cavill, who is the latest Man of Steel look a lot alike, by the way. As they should, I guess.

"The Man of Steel" movie was okay. They got the right look for Clark Kent/Superman. Lois Lane was pretty good, although her hair was the wrong color (I'm picky!). But it was about twenty minutes too long. Too many buildings crashing, cars crashing, stuff blowing up, blah, blah, blah. Enough is enough.

Jon Peters directed this movie. You remember him, of course. He started out as Barbra Streisand's hair dresser.

No monkey.

On the way home someone remembered that there had been a Superman movie a few years back. Husband remembered that Ben Affleck played Superman in some movie. Boyfriend (Daughter's, not mine) said, "No Way!" and the conversationalists were unanimous  in that no one had watched it. I remember thinking I didn't want to see it, because Ben Affleck is no Superman.

So, this morning I looked it up. He didn't really play Superman in the movie, Mr. Affleck played George Reeves, who played Superman, and apparently did a really good job.

My apologies to negating Mr. Affleck. See what happens when you assume?

Anyway, my next movie, I hope, will be "The Lone Ranger". I have always loved him, too.

They tell me Johnny Depp as Tonto steals the show, and why am I not surprised?

Henry Cavill just better be glad Mr. Depp didn't want the part of Jimmy Olson.

Doctor, Doctor, Gimme Some News...

By the time Daughter and I got Mother to the hospital ER, things weren't going well, to say the least.

When Brother #1 called me a few minutes after seven a.m. to tell me I needed to "Go to Mama's and put her in the hospital" (WHAT?), she had been throwing up all night.

He'd been up all night long with her (they live in the same house). He'd called my other brother (henceforth to be called Brother #2), at 5:00 a.m. because he felt like he had to get to work to put up stock that the truck had dropped off.

Now, Brother #2 ain't in the best of shape himself, in fact he is having some surgery Monday. He had been there two hours or so when I was notified of the goings on.

I slapped on some clothes (my dang teeth didn't get brushed until that night, thank God for chewing gum) and went.

She wasn't throwing up too much anymore, and even the dry heaves had left, but she'd also refused to drink even a sip of water.  Daughter went to the store and bought Pedilyte and Sprite.

When she couldn't even keep four sips of Pedilyte down without puking green stuff, I told her we had to go to the ER.

When I asked Brother #1 why he didn't go during the night, he said she refused to go. Sigh.

The staff were kind and efficient and the diagnosis came back pretty quickly - a severe UTI. Blood work resulted in more alarming news. Apparently she'd let it go on for several days without telling anyone and the infection was in her kidneys as well, which can be quite dangerous.

So instead of staying in the ER a few hours to get a bag of fluid, she was admitted to the hospital, so she could receive IV antibiotics, too.

She saw a billion different aides, nursing staff, a medical student and a P.A. from New Hampshire. She told them all about her shoulder, her hip, her shingles. They would all listen patiently, then pull the conversation back to the serious problem of the moment. Finally it was dragged out of her that she'd been feeling "not right" in her lower abdomen area for "some time" and her back pain had really gotten pretty bad.

Keep in mind she's been to the doctor at least twice lately and failed to mention that...

So began the siege by this clan of room 204. Children, in-laws, grandchildren, all.

And tomorrow (or the next day) I will talk about the subject which begins with: "Now, which one are you?"

Run, people.

Run.

When Life Comes to a Screeching Halt and Other Funny Stuff

I haven't blogged in a few days because my 83 year old mother is in the  hospital. She was quite ill, but is now on the mend (I hope).

It is an exhausting thing to take turns staying with the patient in a hospital. It's either boring, scary, or overload  information thrown at you.

And sometimes it's hysterically funny.

I'm never one to save the best for last, plus I'm so tired my eyes are half shut as I type. I will say I've gleaned several good stories from my stays so far, so be prepared to read hospital stuff for a few days.

Anyway, the funny:

Keep in mind my mother is 83 years old and her bladder ain't what it used to be. (and no, she doesn't have the Internet, so I'm safe saying all this stuff). She is also being fed lots of fluids IV as she was dehydrated upon admission due to puking non-stop for six hours or so.

We are sitting there calmly, when suddenly she says, "I have to go to the bathroom now."

That's pretty impossible. First, there is helping her sit up. Then finding the bedroom shoes with her feet, because, and I quote, "I'm not walking barefoot on this floor." I have to unplug the IV stuff from the wall, and she and the pole have to partner dance to the bathroom.

She almost made it, and did for the  most part.

But since she didn't make it a little part, she decided that while she was up, it would be a good time to bathe since no one had offered to help her with that.

I go and make sure her room door is closed while she washes her face and hands. By the time I'm walking back over, she is pulling her gown over her head. I see there's gonna be a problem, and say, "No, no, don't do tha - "

But it's too late.

Her gown is now hanging on her IV tube, to which she is attached. She's yanking on the gown, and finally I say sternly, "STOP IT!"  And squeeze between her and the pole and a chair and manage to push the nurse  call button. When they answer, I tell them, "We need some help." Then I turn around to squeeze my way back to my mother, who is standing there in the altogether.

And notice that her window blinds are wide open.

Hello everybody!

And I can't get to them to close them.

The giggles begin.

The nurse comes in, has to get another nurse, and they finally untangle the whole mess while I wrap Mother in her housecoat so it looks like a fuzzy baby blue sarong.

Ten minutes later she has a new IV in a new place on the other arm and is sporting a clean gown.

She even brushed her teeth before she lay back down.

I never did get those window blinds closed.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I can't go in chronological order, so bear with me.

The Bad: Best Friend's Father becomes quite ill and is taken to the emergency room. He is then admitted to the hospital, and because his kidneys are in bad shape has to wait before they can do a heart cath. He has a mild heart attack while awaiting the cath. When kidneys are cleared to have the cath, he has another mild heart attack during the procedure. 

Doctors recommend open heart surgery to this 87 year old, kidney diseased man, whose heart, by the way, has 3 or 4 total blockages while the rest of his heart blockages are 80 to 90% blocked. Surgery? I should have titled this The Good, The Bad, The Crazy, The Greedy, and The Ugly.

The Ugly: Doctors (all of them) have been barely civil to the elderly patient and his wife. His wife was asking a question to one of the doctors and he WALKED OUT while she was in mid-sentence. 

There has been no ice or water in the water pitchers. Family has to go down the hall and fetch it themselves. A nurse might help the patient onto the potty, but by golly, there is where he stays unless a family  helps him clean up and go back to bed. 

When the patient told the doctor he decided he was not going to have open heart surgery, the doctor became angry. "You know if you walk out of here I can guarantee fifty-fifty odds you will die a sudden death."

Patient tells doctor: "Son, are those the best odds you've got? I prefer one hundred percent guarantee of a sudden death. Besides, I've got a son I ain't seen in two years, and I am looking forward to seeing him and My Savior both." The doctor WALKED OUT without saying another word.

And you might guess only two out of a dozen or so doctors could speak the native language well enough that family could understand them.

The Good: In a word, hospice. They were there on time, they had the room set up before the family got home, they  have been respectful, clear, and kind. 

They told my friend's daddy that from  now on he was back in charge. If they suggested something he didn't like, he could tell them so, and they would suggest an alternative. They've made him comfortable. They've explained everything from  how the bed works to medications. They are pursuing possible veteran's benefits that the family didn't know about. 

And more important than that - or anything else, for that matter - they have truly listened to two elderly people that need to be listened to. They need to tell their stories.

They need to be heard.

To all you folks out there in the medical field: Is that too much to ask?