Today is Tuesday, and I am a Tuesday's child. A little melancholy and dreamy. Spring is in the air. There is much to be done in and outside the house. Pesach is coming, hametz must be consumed or sold. Every room of the house needs cleaning and search for crumbs and dust. Much to do and not much time. I would like to be organized and efficient in chore duty. "Make it so", as Captain Picard would say.
I am glad to know that Dad is going to come home from the Wellsville Manor. I need to be in contact and figure out what whether I can reasonably take some time from work to be in Alfred for support. Maybe I should try to transfer my state job up to Belmont.
Must work for State of New York.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Doubts, Dismissiveness, and D.N.R.s
After Jeanette headed off to work yesterday, I got Ian ready for school and took care of as many necessaries as I could. Then I drove the old Blazer to Dad's house and gathered up the things he'd asked for, and headed Wellsville arriving at the hospital at 11:00, the time scheduled for Dad to be transferred to Wellsville Manor. I had time to check briefly with the nurses and talk with Dad before Jeff and the wheelchair van arrived. I followed them over to the Manor and it had been snowing moderately by the time I walked in with Dad and Jeff. A nurse helped him get seated in his room and I talked with him while another nurse got their first set of vital statistics (blood pressure, pulse, oximetry, and temperature). The diet coordinator came and I helped answer questions, but reminded her that he had been on fluid restriction and low sodium and potassium intake while at the hospital, so she'd need to check the doctor's orders regarding things like orange juice, bananas, and so on. So we went to the nurses desk when she had finished, to see what was in the record. One of the nurses, twice, said "we'll take care of it" but I was thinking "no, she needs the information so she can plan his diet correctly, and I need to know what Dr. Coch's standing orders are". I didn't say anything out loud at the time, but keep reading.
I think it was difficult for Dad to answer questions like "Do you want eggs for breakfast?" because he's not accustomed to having the same thing every day. He isn't fussy about what he eats or drinks, and has difficulty choosing, anyway, so I was having a hard time not answering all the questions for him. I tried to let him choose and not meddle, but I think they could have skipped that whole interview because he would have eaten whatever they put in front of him, and they could change it every day and still get no complaints. He started off with liver and onions for lunch, and ate it with relish (pun intended). The dietician seemed truly astonished when he told her he would eat any vegetable -- she said "you mean you'll eat cauliflower and spinach?" to which I added "and brussels sprouts and turnip greens" and I should have added dandelion greens. Later on, a nurse came and confirmed that his only dietary restriction is the fluid restriction (1500 ml. per day), so they eliminated one or two servings of liquid at meals.
After the dietician took off, I put Dad's things away in his room (#323), and we talked some more until the admission director (that probably isn't her correct title, but she conducts the admission interview), Amy came in. She asked Dad about his preferences and asked the same questions Dr. Coch has to test for dementia or Alzheimer's. Dad did just fine except when asked to repeat three items spoken to him and then remember them while she asked him to spell a word backwards. He had repeated "apple, tree, and pen" just fine and then spelled "d,l,r,o,w" just fine but couldn't think of any of the three, even when she said one was a fruit, and the three didn't seem familiar when she told him what they were. He had remembered two of three, the last time Dr. Coch did it. I sat there reciting "apple, tree, pen" while she was telling him the word to spell backwards, but I could see it was taking all his concentration to take in what she was telling him. I talked with him afterwards and he said he used to be able to do such tasks but it's aggravating not to be able to anymore. I said it must be, especially since I think I'm better at it now than when I was younger.
When Amy began telling him she was going to ask questions to gauge his level of depression, I pretended to have to go to the bathroom, but stood outside the door and listened. I thought he might answer most honestly if he thought I wasn't there, although he's been quite candid with Dr. Coch, even when I have been present. I heard him give all the worst possible answers, in terms of feeling bored, useless, uninterested in new things, and so on. It has a lot to do with him wanting to work on his book but not feeling up to the tasks, and he's told me so many times. I waited a short time before I re-entered the room and helped Dad through her questions about whether he wished to have a Do Not Resuscitate order in place, meaning that it his heart should stop, they should not re-start it. Dr. Coch had given me the idea that Dad had told him he did want a D.N.R., but he told Amy he did not. We confirmed that he has a living will, so life-extending measures are not to be taken if he's in a coma or whatever, but I was glad to learn he does want to be resuscitated, for now.
Amy left and I chatted with Dad about how we can do things differently when he gets home (in two weeks or less) so he'll feel more useful and stimulated. Then we talked about his book, and he really got going then, in all the best senses of the word. It takes some patience to stay with him and keep him from getting side-tracked too far, but I did it. He's complained that people have not given him much feedback (except Sherm) about his book, and I've talked with him at length a number of times, but I hope he felt as satisfied as I did, that we had connected on his thinking yesterday. He seemed so much more able in that discussion than he did about what he'd be eating for the next two weeks.
I went to the nurses' desk and asked if there was anything else I needed to do, and was greeted with "I think we can handle it from here" that came out in a dismissive tone, just like the other nurse had given the dietician, and at this point all the bells and alarms were going off in my head. I had spoken with several of the nurses at Jones and been quite candid that I wanted to converse with them about Dad's vital statistics and the Doctor's orders and that I would be active in coordinating his care. All of them had been open, supportive, and seemed to welcome my participation in it, and more than one had remarked that many patients were simply dropped off and left alone.
At this point, I spent a little more time with Dad making sure he was all set, and made up my mind what to do next, and then went looking for Amy. I asked if we could speak privately and she pointed me toward her office, where I told her I had left the room to be sure Dad didn't feel reticent to be honest while she interviewed him about his depression level. She seemed understanding and appreciative of my doing so, and confirmed that he ranks as quite depressed, so we talked about what we might do when he gets home, to help with that.
We reviewed a few more things and then I asked if I could speak quite candidly. She said yes so I closed her office door. I told her that the dietician and I had been given answers by the nurse at the desk that seemed dismissive, and that this had made me uncomfortable. Then I told her the nurse's response when I asked if there was anything else I needed to do. I told her that I intended to be involved in Dad's care, that I am his medical proxy, that I care a great deal about him, and that I won't put up with staff being dismissive of me. Then I actually said "I won't take any shit with regard to my father's care."
She responded in what I felt was a very supportive fashion, confirming that having such negative experiences before my father was even settled in would not be acceptable, and that she would address the situation. At this point I said that if I had encountered someone whose style of working was just that way but that they were competent and caring in their work and that I needed to adjust somewhat, then she should tell me so. She asked which nurse was the one, so I told her it was two different nurses, and that such an emerging pattern was very disturbing.
She told me that one nurse was only filling in for someone that day, but that the regular nurse who would return on Monday was not that way. She reiterated that she would do something about it, and I told her I would check back when I visited again. I told her that if only one incident had occurred, I might not have said anything, but two in such a short time caused me to be alarmed. She spoke with earnest concern and we agreed to communicate more in the future to be sure everything from there would be copacetic (if you like etymology, look that word up).
I trust her.
Dad's room is on the west end of the building, with a bed and dresser and a wardrobe and recliner. He has a window looking out on the back yard and some scrub trees, so there were a few juncos and chickadees darting around in the snow when I was there. I think I might take a bird feeder over, just to give him more to look at. He had a TV at the hospital, but I think the only time it was on was when Ian got restless during one of our visits.
Carol, the yellow carnation is lovely, and Dad spoke appreciatively of your leaving the Mozart for him to listen to. I left some Readers Digests and the Alfred Sun for him to read, and brought him his diary. I need to drop off some note paper on the next trip.
Carol and I have talked about her and Barb coming over to stay with Dad some, after he gets home, and I am grateful for the offer. Cathy has talked about coming, and may this weekend, but the weather is not encouraging me about that. Bert has also made an overture about coming out to see Dad, but no plans are in place. I still don't know if I got the job at the Equestrian Center, and will learn Tuesday night if I win the election for village Justice, so then I can make commitments more easily, but either way, I plan to do some sorting, cleaning and sprucing up at 33, before Dad gets back home. He had rejected all my previous overtures regarding our moving in with him, and I checked yesterday to confirm that it was because, as he put it, it would complicate things. He added another point yesterday, but I can't recall right now what it was. When I told him Barb and Carol might come, he thought they would stay in their RV, but I told him I figured we'd clear up space upstairs for them. Jeanette and I agreed that we will, last night.
I'm thinking it's probably time to work toward renting out the upstairs apartment, perhaps to Tim and Pat Bancroft, since they have to move out of the house on Palmiter Road, or maybe to Bill and Jenn Schultze and their girls. Anyway, more on that later.
If you want to call Wellsville Manor, it's 585 593-4400, but if you want to call Dad's room, it's 585 593-0309.
Due to all the snow coming in, Ian's activities last night and this morning were cancelled, as was vespers, which Dad and Jeanette usually go to. I've got to close and go plow driveways and clear the church steps of snow.
I think it was difficult for Dad to answer questions like "Do you want eggs for breakfast?" because he's not accustomed to having the same thing every day. He isn't fussy about what he eats or drinks, and has difficulty choosing, anyway, so I was having a hard time not answering all the questions for him. I tried to let him choose and not meddle, but I think they could have skipped that whole interview because he would have eaten whatever they put in front of him, and they could change it every day and still get no complaints. He started off with liver and onions for lunch, and ate it with relish (pun intended). The dietician seemed truly astonished when he told her he would eat any vegetable -- she said "you mean you'll eat cauliflower and spinach?" to which I added "and brussels sprouts and turnip greens" and I should have added dandelion greens. Later on, a nurse came and confirmed that his only dietary restriction is the fluid restriction (1500 ml. per day), so they eliminated one or two servings of liquid at meals.
After the dietician took off, I put Dad's things away in his room (#323), and we talked some more until the admission director (that probably isn't her correct title, but she conducts the admission interview), Amy came in. She asked Dad about his preferences and asked the same questions Dr. Coch has to test for dementia or Alzheimer's. Dad did just fine except when asked to repeat three items spoken to him and then remember them while she asked him to spell a word backwards. He had repeated "apple, tree, and pen" just fine and then spelled "d,l,r,o,w" just fine but couldn't think of any of the three, even when she said one was a fruit, and the three didn't seem familiar when she told him what they were. He had remembered two of three, the last time Dr. Coch did it. I sat there reciting "apple, tree, pen" while she was telling him the word to spell backwards, but I could see it was taking all his concentration to take in what she was telling him. I talked with him afterwards and he said he used to be able to do such tasks but it's aggravating not to be able to anymore. I said it must be, especially since I think I'm better at it now than when I was younger.
When Amy began telling him she was going to ask questions to gauge his level of depression, I pretended to have to go to the bathroom, but stood outside the door and listened. I thought he might answer most honestly if he thought I wasn't there, although he's been quite candid with Dr. Coch, even when I have been present. I heard him give all the worst possible answers, in terms of feeling bored, useless, uninterested in new things, and so on. It has a lot to do with him wanting to work on his book but not feeling up to the tasks, and he's told me so many times. I waited a short time before I re-entered the room and helped Dad through her questions about whether he wished to have a Do Not Resuscitate order in place, meaning that it his heart should stop, they should not re-start it. Dr. Coch had given me the idea that Dad had told him he did want a D.N.R., but he told Amy he did not. We confirmed that he has a living will, so life-extending measures are not to be taken if he's in a coma or whatever, but I was glad to learn he does want to be resuscitated, for now.
Amy left and I chatted with Dad about how we can do things differently when he gets home (in two weeks or less) so he'll feel more useful and stimulated. Then we talked about his book, and he really got going then, in all the best senses of the word. It takes some patience to stay with him and keep him from getting side-tracked too far, but I did it. He's complained that people have not given him much feedback (except Sherm) about his book, and I've talked with him at length a number of times, but I hope he felt as satisfied as I did, that we had connected on his thinking yesterday. He seemed so much more able in that discussion than he did about what he'd be eating for the next two weeks.
I went to the nurses' desk and asked if there was anything else I needed to do, and was greeted with "I think we can handle it from here" that came out in a dismissive tone, just like the other nurse had given the dietician, and at this point all the bells and alarms were going off in my head. I had spoken with several of the nurses at Jones and been quite candid that I wanted to converse with them about Dad's vital statistics and the Doctor's orders and that I would be active in coordinating his care. All of them had been open, supportive, and seemed to welcome my participation in it, and more than one had remarked that many patients were simply dropped off and left alone.
At this point, I spent a little more time with Dad making sure he was all set, and made up my mind what to do next, and then went looking for Amy. I asked if we could speak privately and she pointed me toward her office, where I told her I had left the room to be sure Dad didn't feel reticent to be honest while she interviewed him about his depression level. She seemed understanding and appreciative of my doing so, and confirmed that he ranks as quite depressed, so we talked about what we might do when he gets home, to help with that.
We reviewed a few more things and then I asked if I could speak quite candidly. She said yes so I closed her office door. I told her that the dietician and I had been given answers by the nurse at the desk that seemed dismissive, and that this had made me uncomfortable. Then I told her the nurse's response when I asked if there was anything else I needed to do. I told her that I intended to be involved in Dad's care, that I am his medical proxy, that I care a great deal about him, and that I won't put up with staff being dismissive of me. Then I actually said "I won't take any shit with regard to my father's care."
She responded in what I felt was a very supportive fashion, confirming that having such negative experiences before my father was even settled in would not be acceptable, and that she would address the situation. At this point I said that if I had encountered someone whose style of working was just that way but that they were competent and caring in their work and that I needed to adjust somewhat, then she should tell me so. She asked which nurse was the one, so I told her it was two different nurses, and that such an emerging pattern was very disturbing.
She told me that one nurse was only filling in for someone that day, but that the regular nurse who would return on Monday was not that way. She reiterated that she would do something about it, and I told her I would check back when I visited again. I told her that if only one incident had occurred, I might not have said anything, but two in such a short time caused me to be alarmed. She spoke with earnest concern and we agreed to communicate more in the future to be sure everything from there would be copacetic (if you like etymology, look that word up).
I trust her.
Dad's room is on the west end of the building, with a bed and dresser and a wardrobe and recliner. He has a window looking out on the back yard and some scrub trees, so there were a few juncos and chickadees darting around in the snow when I was there. I think I might take a bird feeder over, just to give him more to look at. He had a TV at the hospital, but I think the only time it was on was when Ian got restless during one of our visits.
Carol, the yellow carnation is lovely, and Dad spoke appreciatively of your leaving the Mozart for him to listen to. I left some Readers Digests and the Alfred Sun for him to read, and brought him his diary. I need to drop off some note paper on the next trip.
Carol and I have talked about her and Barb coming over to stay with Dad some, after he gets home, and I am grateful for the offer. Cathy has talked about coming, and may this weekend, but the weather is not encouraging me about that. Bert has also made an overture about coming out to see Dad, but no plans are in place. I still don't know if I got the job at the Equestrian Center, and will learn Tuesday night if I win the election for village Justice, so then I can make commitments more easily, but either way, I plan to do some sorting, cleaning and sprucing up at 33, before Dad gets back home. He had rejected all my previous overtures regarding our moving in with him, and I checked yesterday to confirm that it was because, as he put it, it would complicate things. He added another point yesterday, but I can't recall right now what it was. When I told him Barb and Carol might come, he thought they would stay in their RV, but I told him I figured we'd clear up space upstairs for them. Jeanette and I agreed that we will, last night.
I'm thinking it's probably time to work toward renting out the upstairs apartment, perhaps to Tim and Pat Bancroft, since they have to move out of the house on Palmiter Road, or maybe to Bill and Jenn Schultze and their girls. Anyway, more on that later.
If you want to call Wellsville Manor, it's 585 593-4400, but if you want to call Dad's room, it's 585 593-0309.
Due to all the snow coming in, Ian's activities last night and this morning were cancelled, as was vespers, which Dad and Jeanette usually go to. I've got to close and go plow driveways and clear the church steps of snow.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Before I go . . .
Ok, here's the latest that I have, although I expect I'll have plenty more later today:
Carol and Barb blew in from down south on Wednesday and spent some time with Dad, then spent the night in their RV at the hospital and visited with him again in the morning. Good thing, as I didn't make it to the hospital yesterday, although I talked with him and with Dr. Coch on the phone.
At that point Dr. Coch said he didn't believe Dad had adrenal insufficiency (they injected him with cortisone to stress his adrenal gland and evidently got a normal response), but instead is afflicted with SIADH, or Syndrome of Inappropriate Antidiuretic Hormone Secretion. Quoting a website, SIADH occurs when excessive levels of antidiuretic hormones (hormones that help the kidneys, and body, conserve the correct amount of water) are produced. The syndrome causes the body to retain water and certain levels of electrolytes in the blood to fall (such as sodium). So Dad's muscles got weak because they didn't have the right balance of electolytes, leading to his falling. Coch is convinced that it's not because of what he takes in, but due to a glandular problem, and he's taken Dad off of the ASE Inhibitor (for his Congestive Heart Failure) and the Fluoxitine, because he's concerned they may contributing to the SIADH. One step forward; two steps back.
Dad has rejected the idea of repairing his leaky heart valves, and Coch has dismissed the use of kyphoplasty to treat the compression fracture in his lumbar vertebra. It is a minimally invasive spinal surgery procedure using a balloon to restore the vertebral body height and shape. This is followed by bone cement to strengthen it.
Dad is scheduled to be moved to Wellsville Manor at about 11:00 today, so I'm trying to wrap things up so I can go over with him.
Cathy called last night and said Bruce has an appointment in Rochester next Monday, so they may fly up tomorrow so they can see Dad. I told her Ian has the Pinewood Derby (Cub Scout gravity-powered car race) in the morning, then we have church, then a birthday celebration for Virginia Bassett. Ian has been invited to a skating birthday party on Sunday too, so I told Cathy we would see them when we could. On top of that, we're supposed to start getting a bunch of snow at noon today and running through Saturday night. Meanwhile, flooding has required the closing of the roads between Hornell and Almond, so they'll have to drive in via Crosby Creek or Interstate 86. Anyway, we'll make up Dad's bed with fresh linens . . .
Carol and Barb blew in from down south on Wednesday and spent some time with Dad, then spent the night in their RV at the hospital and visited with him again in the morning. Good thing, as I didn't make it to the hospital yesterday, although I talked with him and with Dr. Coch on the phone.
At that point Dr. Coch said he didn't believe Dad had adrenal insufficiency (they injected him with cortisone to stress his adrenal gland and evidently got a normal response), but instead is afflicted with SIADH, or Syndrome of Inappropriate Antidiuretic Hormone Secretion. Quoting a website, SIADH occurs when excessive levels of antidiuretic hormones (hormones that help the kidneys, and body, conserve the correct amount of water) are produced. The syndrome causes the body to retain water and certain levels of electrolytes in the blood to fall (such as sodium). So Dad's muscles got weak because they didn't have the right balance of electolytes, leading to his falling. Coch is convinced that it's not because of what he takes in, but due to a glandular problem, and he's taken Dad off of the ASE Inhibitor (for his Congestive Heart Failure) and the Fluoxitine, because he's concerned they may contributing to the SIADH. One step forward; two steps back.
Dad has rejected the idea of repairing his leaky heart valves, and Coch has dismissed the use of kyphoplasty to treat the compression fracture in his lumbar vertebra. It is a minimally invasive spinal surgery procedure using a balloon to restore the vertebral body height and shape. This is followed by bone cement to strengthen it.
Dad is scheduled to be moved to Wellsville Manor at about 11:00 today, so I'm trying to wrap things up so I can go over with him.
Cathy called last night and said Bruce has an appointment in Rochester next Monday, so they may fly up tomorrow so they can see Dad. I told her Ian has the Pinewood Derby (Cub Scout gravity-powered car race) in the morning, then we have church, then a birthday celebration for Virginia Bassett. Ian has been invited to a skating birthday party on Sunday too, so I told Cathy we would see them when we could. On top of that, we're supposed to start getting a bunch of snow at noon today and running through Saturday night. Meanwhile, flooding has required the closing of the roads between Hornell and Almond, so they'll have to drive in via Crosby Creek or Interstate 86. Anyway, we'll make up Dad's bed with fresh linens . . .
you said what?
Doug said:
This may be the origin of Dad's recent difficulty:
http://www.emedicine.com/emerg/topic784.htm
[end quote]
Excuse me, is that article in English? I don't do much internet cruising for medical information nor do I read that literature very much (ok, not at all). That was clearly focused at the professional audience. And I'm glad if they found something they can identify and treat, or work around, or whatever.
If you saw that news about the four people killed in Greenwich Village a couple nights ago, it was close to me (not scary close). We had had a librarians drink night at Baggot Inn on West 3rd. I left about 8 pm and heard a bunch of helicopters when I got home. The killings were about a block and a half from the Baggot Inn (where I understand they do bluegrass on Wednesday nights), further from my apartment. No, I'm not going to get all excited about it but just in case ...
On the other side, I was at Carnegie Hall last night and heard a lovely concert with the Orchestra of Saint Luke's: Strauss Capriccio; Beethoven's Emperor Concerto with Garrick Ohlsson at the piano (he plays very crisply and purely), Mozart's Symphony 40 (wonderfully familiar).
This may be the origin of Dad's recent difficulty:
http://www.emedicine.com/emerg/topic784.htm
[end quote]
Excuse me, is that article in English? I don't do much internet cruising for medical information nor do I read that literature very much (ok, not at all). That was clearly focused at the professional audience. And I'm glad if they found something they can identify and treat, or work around, or whatever.
If you saw that news about the four people killed in Greenwich Village a couple nights ago, it was close to me (not scary close). We had had a librarians drink night at Baggot Inn on West 3rd. I left about 8 pm and heard a bunch of helicopters when I got home. The killings were about a block and a half from the Baggot Inn (where I understand they do bluegrass on Wednesday nights), further from my apartment. No, I'm not going to get all excited about it but just in case ...
On the other side, I was at Carnegie Hall last night and heard a lovely concert with the Orchestra of Saint Luke's: Strauss Capriccio; Beethoven's Emperor Concerto with Garrick Ohlsson at the piano (he plays very crisply and purely), Mozart's Symphony 40 (wonderfully familiar).
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
He gets it.
"If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do is to save every day 'til eternity passes away, just to spend them with you.
If I could make days last forever; if words could make wishes come true, I'd save every day like a treasure and then, again, I would spend them with you.
But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do, once you find them."
Jim Croce's widow, Ingrid (who has a restaurant in San Diego, and their son is a jazz musician) is quoted as saying that she thinks part of his inspiration for that song was the knowledge that they were going to have a baby. She says his Italian family man nature kicked in, and he sat down and wrote the song that night.
(see http://www.classicbands.com/IngridCroceInterview.html).
Ian told us on the way to see Dad last night, that he hopes Dad lives a lot longer, and I said that I wished it too, but only if he can be happy living.
Whenever he spends time with Dad, I remind him that he should not spend all his time watching cartoons, but that the time he spends talking with Dad will be something he will cherish for the rest of his life. He gets it.
If I could make days last forever; if words could make wishes come true, I'd save every day like a treasure and then, again, I would spend them with you.
But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do, once you find them."
Jim Croce's widow, Ingrid (who has a restaurant in San Diego, and their son is a jazz musician) is quoted as saying that she thinks part of his inspiration for that song was the knowledge that they were going to have a baby. She says his Italian family man nature kicked in, and he sat down and wrote the song that night.
(see http://www.classicbands.com/IngridCroceInterview.html).
Ian told us on the way to see Dad last night, that he hopes Dad lives a lot longer, and I said that I wished it too, but only if he can be happy living.
Whenever he spends time with Dad, I remind him that he should not spend all his time watching cartoons, but that the time he spends talking with Dad will be something he will cherish for the rest of his life. He gets it.
Tuesday update
Another night in the hospital; another call from the doctor; another morning filled with concern and impatience for information but dreading any bad news.
I had picked Ian up at school yesterday and met Jeanette so they could come home together while I got our groceries; I felt exhausted, positively as if someone had cut off a corner at my bottom and drained all the energy and will out of me. I was choosing what kind of soup to buy and having to fight back tears and sleepiness.
After I'd gotten home and put groceries away, Jeanette drove Ian and me to Wellsville, where we had supper at "The Texas Hot'. Then we went to the hospital, and up to Dad's room, where they were waiting for him to pee so he would not have to be re-catheterized, so we spent part of the evening talking about bodily functions, which I'm sure suited Dad to a T. Carol, you'd be pleased to know, I think, that through having to use a chamber pot before I took him to the hospital, the Foley catheter installation and all of yesterday's exercises, Dad was unabashed, whereas even the nurses were more concerned with modesty than he was. It was the same when Jeanette went to have her ankle checked: the nurse closed the curtain around her and asked Ian to wait outside while J. got her clothes back on, but Jeanette told the nurse to let him in.
I read Mike Ellis' short account of how he and Sue had done in the Can Am 250 (sled dog) race this year, and that swelled up Dad's pride and spirits a bit. Then Ian and he looked at the happy birthday card that Carol and Barb had sent, and Jeanette rubbed his back and washed his face while I consulted with the nurses. He seemed to cheer up with all that, but he was on a deadline to produce some urine by midnight.
Sherm called while we were there, and Carol had called me first and then talked with Dad, earlier in the day. I know that helped his spirits, too.
Anyway, we spent some good time with him and wished him well, but I figured he wouldn't be home for a couple days, at least. We headed home to get some sleep, and hoped he would rest well.
After Jeanette and Ian got off to work and school this morning, I got a call from the discharge planner at the hospital. She told me they had found a nursing home bed for him.
I said "huh?" and then she told me that they automatically start making arrangements to see if a nursing home has an opening for patients. But when I questioned her she confirmed that no doctor had actually put in orders for that. As we talked I learned more about what the doctors have prescribed for him, and that he had not produced urine by the deadline. I told her that I'm unemployed and could stay home with him until he gets stronger, but she said he would get more physical therapy if he were in a nursing facility, even though they would send someone to the house if he were there.
We tried to get Dr. Coch on the line at that time, but he didn't answer his page at the hospital, so I left word at his office, asking him to call me.
Dr. Coch did call back a little later and told me that Dad's heart is strong but all the valves leak. He repeated that he does not believe that our use of potassium chloride caused his potassium imbalance and weakness; it may be adrenal insufficiency but we won't know anything for several days, since the test results take some time to get back. He said he wants to figure out why Dad's sodium was low and potassium high, and that will take a little time. He said he will order rehabilitation in a nursing home, which is covered by Medicare Part A., but that it could be done at home. He figures Dad will be in the hospital at least through Thursday, but we will talk more over the next couple days and figure all of that out.
He confirmed that Dad has been fibrillating for some time, and displays signs of either the beginnings of dementia or of a cognitive loss, but said you can't tell them apart at this point. We will go from here.
The thing that continues to be of concern to me is that Dad does not tell me what's going on. He didn't tell us when he fell in the bathroom some time back, and hasn't seemed to get it that my being busy is not excuse not to tell me. I've asked him not to anticipate my situation, but just tell me how he feels or what his needs are, and let me work out how to respond. He wants to save me the trouble, but I've pointed out that that method usually leads to more trouble in the long run. This most recent situation is a case in point.
Pat Bancroft has talked with him and me about it, and I have, and so has Jeanette, and we hope that he's learned something. Pat reminded me the other day when I was beating myself up a bit, that my father wasn't giving me the information I needed to help him effectively. He responded to Jeanette on Friday evening, that maybe he should see the doctor. He has been trying to "spare" me, but I hope he won't do that any more.
Meanwhile, I'll try to be more observant and attentive and whatever else I can think of that may help . . .
I had picked Ian up at school yesterday and met Jeanette so they could come home together while I got our groceries; I felt exhausted, positively as if someone had cut off a corner at my bottom and drained all the energy and will out of me. I was choosing what kind of soup to buy and having to fight back tears and sleepiness.
After I'd gotten home and put groceries away, Jeanette drove Ian and me to Wellsville, where we had supper at "The Texas Hot'. Then we went to the hospital, and up to Dad's room, where they were waiting for him to pee so he would not have to be re-catheterized, so we spent part of the evening talking about bodily functions, which I'm sure suited Dad to a T. Carol, you'd be pleased to know, I think, that through having to use a chamber pot before I took him to the hospital, the Foley catheter installation and all of yesterday's exercises, Dad was unabashed, whereas even the nurses were more concerned with modesty than he was. It was the same when Jeanette went to have her ankle checked: the nurse closed the curtain around her and asked Ian to wait outside while J. got her clothes back on, but Jeanette told the nurse to let him in.
I read Mike Ellis' short account of how he and Sue had done in the Can Am 250 (sled dog) race this year, and that swelled up Dad's pride and spirits a bit. Then Ian and he looked at the happy birthday card that Carol and Barb had sent, and Jeanette rubbed his back and washed his face while I consulted with the nurses. He seemed to cheer up with all that, but he was on a deadline to produce some urine by midnight.
Sherm called while we were there, and Carol had called me first and then talked with Dad, earlier in the day. I know that helped his spirits, too.
Anyway, we spent some good time with him and wished him well, but I figured he wouldn't be home for a couple days, at least. We headed home to get some sleep, and hoped he would rest well.
After Jeanette and Ian got off to work and school this morning, I got a call from the discharge planner at the hospital. She told me they had found a nursing home bed for him.
I said "huh?" and then she told me that they automatically start making arrangements to see if a nursing home has an opening for patients. But when I questioned her she confirmed that no doctor had actually put in orders for that. As we talked I learned more about what the doctors have prescribed for him, and that he had not produced urine by the deadline. I told her that I'm unemployed and could stay home with him until he gets stronger, but she said he would get more physical therapy if he were in a nursing facility, even though they would send someone to the house if he were there.
We tried to get Dr. Coch on the line at that time, but he didn't answer his page at the hospital, so I left word at his office, asking him to call me.
Dr. Coch did call back a little later and told me that Dad's heart is strong but all the valves leak. He repeated that he does not believe that our use of potassium chloride caused his potassium imbalance and weakness; it may be adrenal insufficiency but we won't know anything for several days, since the test results take some time to get back. He said he wants to figure out why Dad's sodium was low and potassium high, and that will take a little time. He said he will order rehabilitation in a nursing home, which is covered by Medicare Part A., but that it could be done at home. He figures Dad will be in the hospital at least through Thursday, but we will talk more over the next couple days and figure all of that out.
He confirmed that Dad has been fibrillating for some time, and displays signs of either the beginnings of dementia or of a cognitive loss, but said you can't tell them apart at this point. We will go from here.
The thing that continues to be of concern to me is that Dad does not tell me what's going on. He didn't tell us when he fell in the bathroom some time back, and hasn't seemed to get it that my being busy is not excuse not to tell me. I've asked him not to anticipate my situation, but just tell me how he feels or what his needs are, and let me work out how to respond. He wants to save me the trouble, but I've pointed out that that method usually leads to more trouble in the long run. This most recent situation is a case in point.
Pat Bancroft has talked with him and me about it, and I have, and so has Jeanette, and we hope that he's learned something. Pat reminded me the other day when I was beating myself up a bit, that my father wasn't giving me the information I needed to help him effectively. He responded to Jeanette on Friday evening, that maybe he should see the doctor. He has been trying to "spare" me, but I hope he won't do that any more.
Meanwhile, I'll try to be more observant and attentive and whatever else I can think of that may help . . .
sherman's contact info
March 18-20
Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Booking
Code
City Date & Time City Time
American Airlines 1 NEW YORK JFK SUN 18MAR
9:00 AM LOS ANGELES 12:20 PM N
D Clarke FF#: M4V1720 Economy Seat 36A Food For Purchase
American Airlines 10 LOS ANGELES TUE 20MAR
9:30 PM NEW YORK JFK 5:38 AM N
D Clarke FF#: M4V1720 Economy Seat 36A Food For Purchase
STAYING WITH:
Steve Ong, 2630 Ivan Hill Terrace, LA 90039
323-953-8450 - stevenong@sbcglobal.net
March 26-April 1
Flight# Departing
Date & Time Arriving
Date & Time Meals Stops Service Aircraft
YX81 New York (LGA)
Mon, Mar 26, 2007
11:29AM Kansas City (MCI)
Mon, Mar 26, 2007 1:41PM Best Care Cuisine 0 Signature Service 717
YX82 Kansas City (MCI)
Sun, Apr 01, 2007
9:50AM New York (LGA)
Sun, Apr 01, 2007 1:30PM Best Care Cuisine 0 Signature Service 717
STAYING AT:
Ken's Place
18 West 38th St, Kansas City, MO, 64111, USA
Lodging Type: Bed & Breakfast
Hosts: Ken Yelvington
Phone: 1 816 753-0533
http://www.purpleroofs.com/kensplace-mo.html
Carrier Flight Number Departing Arriving Booking
Code
City Date & Time City Time
American Airlines 1 NEW YORK JFK SUN 18MAR
9:00 AM LOS ANGELES 12:20 PM N
D Clarke FF#: M4V1720 Economy Seat 36A Food For Purchase
American Airlines 10 LOS ANGELES TUE 20MAR
9:30 PM NEW YORK JFK 5:38 AM N
D Clarke FF#: M4V1720 Economy Seat 36A Food For Purchase
STAYING WITH:
Steve Ong, 2630 Ivan Hill Terrace, LA 90039
323-953-8450 - stevenong@sbcglobal.net
March 26-April 1
Flight# Departing
Date & Time Arriving
Date & Time Meals Stops Service Aircraft
YX81 New York (LGA)
Mon, Mar 26, 2007
11:29AM Kansas City (MCI)
Mon, Mar 26, 2007 1:41PM Best Care Cuisine 0 Signature Service 717
YX82 Kansas City (MCI)
Sun, Apr 01, 2007
9:50AM New York (LGA)
Sun, Apr 01, 2007 1:30PM Best Care Cuisine 0 Signature Service 717
STAYING AT:
Ken's Place
18 West 38th St, Kansas City, MO, 64111, USA
Lodging Type: Bed & Breakfast
Hosts: Ken Yelvington
Phone: 1 816 753-0533
http://www.purpleroofs.com/kensplace-mo.html
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