There are times that I wish our doctor lived with us. This evening Donny started acting like his ammonia levels were elevated. I know for a fact that he took his lactulose, I watched him drink it. The dosage must not be right.
The problem is, by the time we go see the doctor he'll be fine. That leaves me looking like an overreacting wife when I insist that his mental status was altered. The only thing that I have going for me is the fact that the doctor knows me, and trusts me. Hopefully he'll believe me when I describe what's going on.
With any luck there will be a change in meds. I'm hoping that the altered mental status isn't a permanent thing. If it is then there may come a time that I can't care for Donny at home. I hate the thought, but just today was bad enough to make me wonder what to do.
On the bright side, my mom might get to come home in the next day or two. She's doing much better, but she started a new medication and they want to monitor her on it for a couple days to see how it's going.
New meds are always scary. At one point my mom was on so many psych meds that she was a zombie. For two years she barely qualified as being alive, and she had no quality of life. My mom, who's always been the out going, lively one, was doing nothing but sit there and stare out in space or lay in bed and stare out in space.
When my sister decided that she'd had enough, it took two paper grocery bags to carry my mom's meds. A really great doctor helped us get her off of almost everything, but we're now a little leery of new meds. The good thing is that my mom has a great medical doctor (finally) who will take a look at what she's been given and help us understand it. And we know that never again will we allow one med to be prescribed on top of another to the point that it gets out of control. It may have taken a while, but we've learned to ask questions.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Friday, October 05, 2007
Friday Night Entertainment
Have you ever noticed that there's nothing good on TV on Friday nights? And if you're broke there's not a whole lot to do. Which leaves me with some very boring Friday nights. That's why I developed my own Friday night entertainment.
Every week on Friday night I will take somebody to be admitted to the hospital. Last week it was my husband. He got out Tuesday, so I needed something to do today. And if you ask my mom she'll tell you that's why she's in the hospital right now.
The truth of the matter is that she's not doing well and we couldn't keep her safe at home anymore. Does it make me a bad daughter to be relieved to put her in the hospital? I hate the thought that I might get too busy and my mom wind up dead when she's at home.
This isn't how I always felt about this. I still remember the first time we had to put mom in a psych hospital.
I was 13 years old. Mom had been having a hard time for a while, but we were helping her through it. I was proud of my ability to get her back when she was lost in a flashback. I liked being able to help.
But mom just got worse. She started hallucinating. We came home one day to find all our dishes smashed on the kitchen floor and mom sitting on the counter. She thought that there were snakes trying to get her. It became routine that I'd have to check under her bed for snakes before she'd get up.
My dad finally decided that we just couldn't care for my mom at home anymore, and he found a psych hospital she could go to. It was about 2 hours away, but it dealt with her issues. So we packed up her stuff, hopped in the van and set out.
We got there and my parents had a lot of paperwork to do. My sister and I were to wait in the waiting room until they were done. I sometimes wonder if I looked as scared as I felt.
Somebody from the hospital staff came and took my sister and I on a tour of the grounds and hospital. They explained things to us to the best of their ability. It helped some.
Mom was finally checked in and we went to help her settle in to her room. That's when we discovered that a lot of the things we had packed to comfort her weren't allowed. And thus began the lessons in how to pack for a psych hospital. My sister and now are able to pack a bag that passes the strictest tests.
Eventually we had to say goodbye. Debbie and I didn't want to, because we still didn't see how somebody who didn't love our mom could provide better care than we could. But our protests didn't change things, and we finally said goodbye.
On the way home I cried and cried. I was heartbroken. I cried so long and hard that I made myself vomit. And then I cried some more.
My, how times have changed.
Every week on Friday night I will take somebody to be admitted to the hospital. Last week it was my husband. He got out Tuesday, so I needed something to do today. And if you ask my mom she'll tell you that's why she's in the hospital right now.
The truth of the matter is that she's not doing well and we couldn't keep her safe at home anymore. Does it make me a bad daughter to be relieved to put her in the hospital? I hate the thought that I might get too busy and my mom wind up dead when she's at home.
This isn't how I always felt about this. I still remember the first time we had to put mom in a psych hospital.
I was 13 years old. Mom had been having a hard time for a while, but we were helping her through it. I was proud of my ability to get her back when she was lost in a flashback. I liked being able to help.
But mom just got worse. She started hallucinating. We came home one day to find all our dishes smashed on the kitchen floor and mom sitting on the counter. She thought that there were snakes trying to get her. It became routine that I'd have to check under her bed for snakes before she'd get up.
My dad finally decided that we just couldn't care for my mom at home anymore, and he found a psych hospital she could go to. It was about 2 hours away, but it dealt with her issues. So we packed up her stuff, hopped in the van and set out.
We got there and my parents had a lot of paperwork to do. My sister and I were to wait in the waiting room until they were done. I sometimes wonder if I looked as scared as I felt.
Somebody from the hospital staff came and took my sister and I on a tour of the grounds and hospital. They explained things to us to the best of their ability. It helped some.
Mom was finally checked in and we went to help her settle in to her room. That's when we discovered that a lot of the things we had packed to comfort her weren't allowed. And thus began the lessons in how to pack for a psych hospital. My sister and now are able to pack a bag that passes the strictest tests.
Eventually we had to say goodbye. Debbie and I didn't want to, because we still didn't see how somebody who didn't love our mom could provide better care than we could. But our protests didn't change things, and we finally said goodbye.
On the way home I cried and cried. I was heartbroken. I cried so long and hard that I made myself vomit. And then I cried some more.
My, how times have changed.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Need... More... Time!
I really thought that I might have a slow day today. I woke up and realized that the only thing on my schedule was physical therapy. Could it be? Could I really have a day with next to nothing to do?
And that's when it hit me. I absolutely had to go to work. I had already put it off too long. And I needed to return that call from disability. We've got to get them going on processing Donny's claim. And I have to get Donny going on his new meds schedule. And then this afternoon, after physical therapy, I really needed to go to Wal-Mart. And mom needed me to take her to run some errands. Oh, and grandma and Aunt Lenora need me to pick up prescriptions for them. And since I didn't get everything done at work this morning I really do need to go back this evening.
And there goes my slow day. I ended up putting off work until tomorrow afternoon/evening. If I let it be known that all my time is scheduled maybe the scheduling gods will take pity on me and put everything else off until Friday. Wait, I'm busy then. Maybe this weekend? Nope, already committed. I might be able to work you in next week, but act quick because it's going quick.
And that's when it hit me. I absolutely had to go to work. I had already put it off too long. And I needed to return that call from disability. We've got to get them going on processing Donny's claim. And I have to get Donny going on his new meds schedule. And then this afternoon, after physical therapy, I really needed to go to Wal-Mart. And mom needed me to take her to run some errands. Oh, and grandma and Aunt Lenora need me to pick up prescriptions for them. And since I didn't get everything done at work this morning I really do need to go back this evening.
And there goes my slow day. I ended up putting off work until tomorrow afternoon/evening. If I let it be known that all my time is scheduled maybe the scheduling gods will take pity on me and put everything else off until Friday. Wait, I'm busy then. Maybe this weekend? Nope, already committed. I might be able to work you in next week, but act quick because it's going quick.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Home Again, Home Again, Fiddle-Dee-Dee
Donny's home again. He was discharged this afternoon. He came home with a brand new nebulizer and some insulin. Hopefully he won't need the insulin anymore once he's off the steroids. But until then, I get to stab him in the stomach at least once a day.
The upside to this is that it helps alleviate the scheduling issues that I'm dealing with. That's one less place that I need to be.
The downside is that I just lost my help in caring for him. As awful as one nurse was, I really liked the peace of mind that comes with knowing that he's surrounded by medical professionals if anything goes wrong. Besides, the other nurses were great! I'll really miss the help.
The upside to this is that it helps alleviate the scheduling issues that I'm dealing with. That's one less place that I need to be.
The downside is that I just lost my help in caring for him. As awful as one nurse was, I really liked the peace of mind that comes with knowing that he's surrounded by medical professionals if anything goes wrong. Besides, the other nurses were great! I'll really miss the help.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Time
I spent my day beating my head against the clock. Let me tell you something, beating your head against the clock gets you nothing but a headache.
I started off by forgetting that with my grandma you need to tell her that you're walking out the door a half hour before you plan to. I said we're leaving at 9:00, we left at 9:20. And we discussed all this last night.
I got to the hospital just in time to go in and check on my husband really quick before having to leave again. I literally spent more time parking than I did in his room.
We left the hospital bound for grandma's appointment with the neurologist. The only problem was that grandma wasn't really sure where his office was. This was her first appointment and she'd failed to bring the address. Fortunately we found it and she was less than 5 minutes late to her appointment.
After that we had a short break before I had to be at my appointment. I thought that since it was lunchtime this would be a good time to eat the lunch that I'd packed. But grandma insisted that we had to go to the bank before eating. So after a couple wrong turns she found her bank and all was well. Or was it?
I think that I angered my grandmother when I insisted that my growling tummy meant that we had to stop and eat. She thought that I should be off in search of stamps. Since I was driving, I won.
After taking an entirely too long 15 minute lunch break I realized that if I didn't head to my appointment immediately I'd be late. So we were off again.
I did my physical therapy, and it was the most relaxing part of my day. I really love those therapists!
After therapy I took grandma for her head ex ray. They confirmed that her head is still there, and we decided to finally go get the stamps that she bugged me about every 15 minutes. But alas, that was not to be.
As we left the ex ray I got a call from Donny that he needed me at the hospital, so we went there. He had been given his nebulizer and needed to show me what he'd been taught about it before he forgot.
At 4:30 my grandma decides to let me know why she's been so uptight about getting her mail out. Apparently it all should have gone out last week, but she had to wait until the 1st to buy stamps. Unfortunately, she had waited until it was too late to get to a post office before it closed to mention this. So, after my panic attack, I let her know what we could do about it, and that she'd have to be happy with that.
All in all, not that bad of a day. I just wish that my whole week wasn't scheduled to be just like this.
I started off by forgetting that with my grandma you need to tell her that you're walking out the door a half hour before you plan to. I said we're leaving at 9:00, we left at 9:20. And we discussed all this last night.
I got to the hospital just in time to go in and check on my husband really quick before having to leave again. I literally spent more time parking than I did in his room.
We left the hospital bound for grandma's appointment with the neurologist. The only problem was that grandma wasn't really sure where his office was. This was her first appointment and she'd failed to bring the address. Fortunately we found it and she was less than 5 minutes late to her appointment.
After that we had a short break before I had to be at my appointment. I thought that since it was lunchtime this would be a good time to eat the lunch that I'd packed. But grandma insisted that we had to go to the bank before eating. So after a couple wrong turns she found her bank and all was well. Or was it?
I think that I angered my grandmother when I insisted that my growling tummy meant that we had to stop and eat. She thought that I should be off in search of stamps. Since I was driving, I won.
After taking an entirely too long 15 minute lunch break I realized that if I didn't head to my appointment immediately I'd be late. So we were off again.
I did my physical therapy, and it was the most relaxing part of my day. I really love those therapists!
After therapy I took grandma for her head ex ray. They confirmed that her head is still there, and we decided to finally go get the stamps that she bugged me about every 15 minutes. But alas, that was not to be.
As we left the ex ray I got a call from Donny that he needed me at the hospital, so we went there. He had been given his nebulizer and needed to show me what he'd been taught about it before he forgot.
At 4:30 my grandma decides to let me know why she's been so uptight about getting her mail out. Apparently it all should have gone out last week, but she had to wait until the 1st to buy stamps. Unfortunately, she had waited until it was too late to get to a post office before it closed to mention this. So, after my panic attack, I let her know what we could do about it, and that she'd have to be happy with that.
All in all, not that bad of a day. I just wish that my whole week wasn't scheduled to be just like this.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Questions
I have a question for any nurses that happen to read this. How much is it okay to ask a patient's relatives to do? Here's the reason I ask:
This morning shortly after I got to the hospital to visit Donny his CNA came in and he asked her for a cup of coffee. She said she'd get it and showed me where it's at. She let me know that it's okay for me to get him what he wants out of the pantry.
A little while later his RN came in. He was concerned about the need to monitor Donny's intake and output. I was asked to keep track of the beverages that I got for him for this purpose. All of this seemed reasonable and I was glad to help.
That's when the RN started talking about the fact that Donny needed to use the urinal that had been provided so that they could measure his output. Again, that's a reasonable request.
And then we enter the field of annoying me. The nurse turns and looks at me and gives me directions about needing to measure the output and write down the time. He went on to tell me that half the CNAs had been laid off and so our CNA had a whole unit by herself. So even though I was annoyed, I didn't complain.
A little later my husband wanted to shower and get clean linens on his bed. He was grossed out by the blood on the linens he had and wanted to start fresh. (Let me say here that it wasn't huge amounts of blood. No pools or anything like that, just enough to bother him.) I asked his RN for towels so that I could shower Donny and let the RN know that Donny's linens needed changed. He brought everything that was needed for both jobs into the room and left.
I showered my husband (assuming that somebody would come change his bed while we were in there) and put clean clothes on him. I volunteered to do this because I knew that Donny would be more comfortable with me helping him than with anybody else.
We came out of the bathroom to find that nothing had been done about his bed. At this point I decided that it would be easier to deal with things myself than to try and get help. As I was getting started a member of housekeeping staff happened to walk by and see what I was about to do. She stopped me and did it herself. She let me know that even though she's not supposed to change the linens in a room that's occupied she didn't mind helping this nurse out since she thought he was a nice guy.
A little later the RN (who's name we never found out) came in and made an offhand comment that he had assumed that I'd change the linens. That's when Donny pointed out that I had surgery on my hand a few weeks ago and still wasn't supposed to be doing things like that. The RN said something about how we hadn't told him that. In my opinion that's not the point. I never should have been expected to do the nursing staff's job.
I really don't know how I should handle this. My mom says that I need to bring it up to the head of nursing, especially since I'm now uncomfortable leaving him there for too long without a family member there to care for him. Tonight his RN has a student with her, so I know that everything will be by the book, but what about after that? I don't want the nurses to take it out on him that I said something, but I feel like I shouldn't just let it go.
The other problem that I have in regards to confidence in the nurses is because of that RN. His mannerisms combined with his severe case of the sniffles leave a person with the impression that he's having issues with an illegal substance. Now I really think that it's an unfortunate case of an oncoming cold and natural jitteriness, but it leaves that niggling doubt. That was his day nurse, but it still makes me uncomfortable. Especially when combined with his comments about liking to give patients drugs and him instructing my husband how to get the maximum pain reliever prescribed. It just all really bothers me. I don't know what I'll do. I guess that I just need to sleep on it.
This morning shortly after I got to the hospital to visit Donny his CNA came in and he asked her for a cup of coffee. She said she'd get it and showed me where it's at. She let me know that it's okay for me to get him what he wants out of the pantry.
A little while later his RN came in. He was concerned about the need to monitor Donny's intake and output. I was asked to keep track of the beverages that I got for him for this purpose. All of this seemed reasonable and I was glad to help.
That's when the RN started talking about the fact that Donny needed to use the urinal that had been provided so that they could measure his output. Again, that's a reasonable request.
And then we enter the field of annoying me. The nurse turns and looks at me and gives me directions about needing to measure the output and write down the time. He went on to tell me that half the CNAs had been laid off and so our CNA had a whole unit by herself. So even though I was annoyed, I didn't complain.
A little later my husband wanted to shower and get clean linens on his bed. He was grossed out by the blood on the linens he had and wanted to start fresh. (Let me say here that it wasn't huge amounts of blood. No pools or anything like that, just enough to bother him.) I asked his RN for towels so that I could shower Donny and let the RN know that Donny's linens needed changed. He brought everything that was needed for both jobs into the room and left.
I showered my husband (assuming that somebody would come change his bed while we were in there) and put clean clothes on him. I volunteered to do this because I knew that Donny would be more comfortable with me helping him than with anybody else.
We came out of the bathroom to find that nothing had been done about his bed. At this point I decided that it would be easier to deal with things myself than to try and get help. As I was getting started a member of housekeeping staff happened to walk by and see what I was about to do. She stopped me and did it herself. She let me know that even though she's not supposed to change the linens in a room that's occupied she didn't mind helping this nurse out since she thought he was a nice guy.
A little later the RN (who's name we never found out) came in and made an offhand comment that he had assumed that I'd change the linens. That's when Donny pointed out that I had surgery on my hand a few weeks ago and still wasn't supposed to be doing things like that. The RN said something about how we hadn't told him that. In my opinion that's not the point. I never should have been expected to do the nursing staff's job.
I really don't know how I should handle this. My mom says that I need to bring it up to the head of nursing, especially since I'm now uncomfortable leaving him there for too long without a family member there to care for him. Tonight his RN has a student with her, so I know that everything will be by the book, but what about after that? I don't want the nurses to take it out on him that I said something, but I feel like I shouldn't just let it go.
The other problem that I have in regards to confidence in the nurses is because of that RN. His mannerisms combined with his severe case of the sniffles leave a person with the impression that he's having issues with an illegal substance. Now I really think that it's an unfortunate case of an oncoming cold and natural jitteriness, but it leaves that niggling doubt. That was his day nurse, but it still makes me uncomfortable. Especially when combined with his comments about liking to give patients drugs and him instructing my husband how to get the maximum pain reliever prescribed. It just all really bothers me. I don't know what I'll do. I guess that I just need to sleep on it.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Wrong Again
I figured out the problem. Things didn't fall apart because of a comment to my aunt. Things fell apart because I wanted to do my homework. My proof:
Tuesday afternoon I planned on working on my homework. Instead I wound up taking my great-aunt into ER.
Wednesday I planned on doing homework. I ended up driving my mom to her appointment with her therapist. Before leaving I was told that she needed to be on a 24 hour watch, and that I was responsible for the daytime shifts.
Thursday I was too overwhelmed to worry about homework. I went to physical therapy and it was great. Everything looks good, I have good range of motion, all is A-OK.
Friday as I got home from a doctor's appointment I told my mom that I had a mountain of homework to do before class in the morning. I decided that all my other plans for the evening would have to be back-burnered until I could get ready for class. And then we walked into the house.
My husband met me at the door saying that he needed to go to the hospital. Apparently he couldn't breathe and was out of inhalers. He has COPD (in addition to everything else) and breathing problems have to be taken seriously.
We arrive at the ER and I drop him off at the door before going to park. I notice the crowd inside and figure it's going to be a long wait. I hadn't really expected anything else for a Friday night.
I park the car and go in. As I walk in to the waiting room I notice a nurse standing out there, but thought nothing of it. I'm standing there filling out the registration slip when my husband notices me and says, "Oh, there's my wife." The nurse then turns and lets me know that his sats are okay and they'll be seeing him soon. Apparently they heard his breathing when he walked in and decided to check right away. It is now 7:00 p.m.
Not very long after turning the registration slip in to the triage desk they call my husband in for triage. This is a pleasant surprise, usually with a crowd this size there's a fairly long wait before you're triaged. He gets in there and the nurses start asking if the information from last time he was there is still correct. This is new, and appreciated. Previously they said that they didn't have access to records from previous visits. They tell us have a seat and we'll be called back shortly. This is a euphemism for admitting will ask to see your insurance information and in a few hours we'll come get you.
Imagine my surprise when after a very short wait we're taken to a bed for my husband. And a horde of people descend. The nurse came in and started getting Donny set up. And then the other nurse came in to do whatever she needed. And then the respiratory therapist shows up to administer a breathing treatment. And he has a student with him. And there's the lab tech to do the ex ray. And then there were a couple of people that I had no clue why they were there. I stepped around the corner for the ex ray. As I was standing there I looked at the clock. It was 7:20 p.m.
About 8:45 or 9:00 we got word that there was a little pneumonia in both lungs. The doctor said that since Donny died last time he had pneumonia they would be admitting him even though it's not that bad.
About 10:00 we were informed that there was a room for Donny, but housekeeping needed to finish cleaning it before he could be transferred. The nurse up there was supposed to call back in about 15 minutes to let them know to bring Donny on up. About a half hour later the ER nurse called to check on the room again, same story. At 11:45 I finally gave up and went home. It goes against the grain to leave a loved one in ER, but I had to be up early for class.
Tomorrow I'm going to sit in Donny's room at the hospital and do my homework. Whatever goes wrong, I'll already be there.
Tuesday afternoon I planned on working on my homework. Instead I wound up taking my great-aunt into ER.
Wednesday I planned on doing homework. I ended up driving my mom to her appointment with her therapist. Before leaving I was told that she needed to be on a 24 hour watch, and that I was responsible for the daytime shifts.
Thursday I was too overwhelmed to worry about homework. I went to physical therapy and it was great. Everything looks good, I have good range of motion, all is A-OK.
Friday as I got home from a doctor's appointment I told my mom that I had a mountain of homework to do before class in the morning. I decided that all my other plans for the evening would have to be back-burnered until I could get ready for class. And then we walked into the house.
My husband met me at the door saying that he needed to go to the hospital. Apparently he couldn't breathe and was out of inhalers. He has COPD (in addition to everything else) and breathing problems have to be taken seriously.
We arrive at the ER and I drop him off at the door before going to park. I notice the crowd inside and figure it's going to be a long wait. I hadn't really expected anything else for a Friday night.
I park the car and go in. As I walk in to the waiting room I notice a nurse standing out there, but thought nothing of it. I'm standing there filling out the registration slip when my husband notices me and says, "Oh, there's my wife." The nurse then turns and lets me know that his sats are okay and they'll be seeing him soon. Apparently they heard his breathing when he walked in and decided to check right away. It is now 7:00 p.m.
Not very long after turning the registration slip in to the triage desk they call my husband in for triage. This is a pleasant surprise, usually with a crowd this size there's a fairly long wait before you're triaged. He gets in there and the nurses start asking if the information from last time he was there is still correct. This is new, and appreciated. Previously they said that they didn't have access to records from previous visits. They tell us have a seat and we'll be called back shortly. This is a euphemism for admitting will ask to see your insurance information and in a few hours we'll come get you.
Imagine my surprise when after a very short wait we're taken to a bed for my husband. And a horde of people descend. The nurse came in and started getting Donny set up. And then the other nurse came in to do whatever she needed. And then the respiratory therapist shows up to administer a breathing treatment. And he has a student with him. And there's the lab tech to do the ex ray. And then there were a couple of people that I had no clue why they were there. I stepped around the corner for the ex ray. As I was standing there I looked at the clock. It was 7:20 p.m.
About 8:45 or 9:00 we got word that there was a little pneumonia in both lungs. The doctor said that since Donny died last time he had pneumonia they would be admitting him even though it's not that bad.
About 10:00 we were informed that there was a room for Donny, but housekeeping needed to finish cleaning it before he could be transferred. The nurse up there was supposed to call back in about 15 minutes to let them know to bring Donny on up. About a half hour later the ER nurse called to check on the room again, same story. At 11:45 I finally gave up and went home. It goes against the grain to leave a loved one in ER, but I had to be up early for class.
Tomorrow I'm going to sit in Donny's room at the hospital and do my homework. Whatever goes wrong, I'll already be there.
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