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Yeah, not a Beatles song. They moved my dad back in there Sunday. It was a rough weekend.
After the happy Wednesday when he was moved out of the ICU and seemed to be doing better, my mom found that he got more sleepy and was refusing to eat. But Saturday evening, when I got there and we went to visit him in the step down unit, he looked awful and drawn, sitting up but panting and uncommunicative. Then he began to communicate a little that he was having bad pain in his back where he was developing a sore, and let us know some things that we could do for him to make him less uncomfortable. It took the fuckers almost an hour to get tylenol with codeine from their pharmacy for him--that was maddening. And then the respiratory resident told us Dad had developed bad fluid in the lungs, until they realized they were looking at SOMEONE ELSE'S xrays. Yeah, the staff in the step down unit did not inspire confidence.
After we left that night, they called to tell us he needed to go back to the ICU due to dropping blood pressure and breathing weakness. That was hard to take. The only up part is that we feel more secure about the care he is getting there than in the step down unit--next time, if there is a next time, we're going to fight to make sure they don't move him out of the ICU too fast. I'd like to see him holding his own unintubated for a whole week before they decide to move him next time.
So they have reintubated him and put back in his chest tube. They've been running tests, ruled out infections; the heart is doing good, kidneys are clear, but from what my mom has relayed to me, they don't know exactly what's causing the problem yet. His skin is in terrible condition with weeping because he has 50 extra pounds of fluids in him, mostly settling in his legs, and that hurts, and they have to keep feeding him fluids. When he is a little stronger they are going to put in a stomach tube to feed him more nutrition and ease up on the nasal feeding tube, which has been very uncomfortable for him. And they're going to give him a temporary tracheotomy. Every incision is a risk for more infection.
He's gone through a whole month of hell now. If he knew, I don't think he would have agreed to the operation. But we haven't reached a point where the doctors think it's time to make a choice--and they're saying more of his systems than not are going strong, so we should keep doing more to him--that we could get him out of there. But it's hard. This move out and back again was a blow for us and for him when he can register it--so far he's been pretty doped up on pain killers. He might not make it--we have to accept that--and all he's been put through will be nothing but a long, slow, painful death. You have to pull yourself back from the empathy place, though, because you don't do anyone any good when you go there.
We're having to pull back some to keep going. Mom is cutting her visits down to once a day instead of twice because it's wearing her down too far going back and forth and she needs to take better care of herself--she's a cancer survivor twice over. I'm not sure if the doctors really don't know what's going on yet with my dad's condition, or if it's just my mom pulling back from getting information, so I'm going to try to call the ICU and see what info I can get tomorrow. I think I'm going to need to make my trips up there every other weekend instead of every weekend, because my foot is definitely worsening from the drive. And Milli's having more blood in her stools lately, so I need to check out what's going on there. And so much is not getting done. I'm doing better this evening than I have since the weekend, due to having gone for a swim after work and having cuddled multiple kitties, indoors and out.
In better news, someone is coming over to look at the strays on Wednesday, so cross your fingers she's a good cat person. I'll be happy and relieved, while at the same time depressed (because I'll miss them), if I can get them well placed. I finished the HBP. I really enjoyed Rowlings' storytelling--her identity politics bugged me, though, throughout the books, and weaken some of my investment in where she's going with the story. I'll undoubtedly talk more about it in a future entry.
Here's a pic of my dad with his big brother from two years ago that my cousin sent me last week. Dad's the one in blue. No, he doesn't dye his hair. That's what 76 looks like when you do tai chi for a couple hours a day everyday.
After the happy Wednesday when he was moved out of the ICU and seemed to be doing better, my mom found that he got more sleepy and was refusing to eat. But Saturday evening, when I got there and we went to visit him in the step down unit, he looked awful and drawn, sitting up but panting and uncommunicative. Then he began to communicate a little that he was having bad pain in his back where he was developing a sore, and let us know some things that we could do for him to make him less uncomfortable. It took the fuckers almost an hour to get tylenol with codeine from their pharmacy for him--that was maddening. And then the respiratory resident told us Dad had developed bad fluid in the lungs, until they realized they were looking at SOMEONE ELSE'S xrays. Yeah, the staff in the step down unit did not inspire confidence.
After we left that night, they called to tell us he needed to go back to the ICU due to dropping blood pressure and breathing weakness. That was hard to take. The only up part is that we feel more secure about the care he is getting there than in the step down unit--next time, if there is a next time, we're going to fight to make sure they don't move him out of the ICU too fast. I'd like to see him holding his own unintubated for a whole week before they decide to move him next time.
So they have reintubated him and put back in his chest tube. They've been running tests, ruled out infections; the heart is doing good, kidneys are clear, but from what my mom has relayed to me, they don't know exactly what's causing the problem yet. His skin is in terrible condition with weeping because he has 50 extra pounds of fluids in him, mostly settling in his legs, and that hurts, and they have to keep feeding him fluids. When he is a little stronger they are going to put in a stomach tube to feed him more nutrition and ease up on the nasal feeding tube, which has been very uncomfortable for him. And they're going to give him a temporary tracheotomy. Every incision is a risk for more infection.
He's gone through a whole month of hell now. If he knew, I don't think he would have agreed to the operation. But we haven't reached a point where the doctors think it's time to make a choice--and they're saying more of his systems than not are going strong, so we should keep doing more to him--that we could get him out of there. But it's hard. This move out and back again was a blow for us and for him when he can register it--so far he's been pretty doped up on pain killers. He might not make it--we have to accept that--and all he's been put through will be nothing but a long, slow, painful death. You have to pull yourself back from the empathy place, though, because you don't do anyone any good when you go there.
We're having to pull back some to keep going. Mom is cutting her visits down to once a day instead of twice because it's wearing her down too far going back and forth and she needs to take better care of herself--she's a cancer survivor twice over. I'm not sure if the doctors really don't know what's going on yet with my dad's condition, or if it's just my mom pulling back from getting information, so I'm going to try to call the ICU and see what info I can get tomorrow. I think I'm going to need to make my trips up there every other weekend instead of every weekend, because my foot is definitely worsening from the drive. And Milli's having more blood in her stools lately, so I need to check out what's going on there. And so much is not getting done. I'm doing better this evening than I have since the weekend, due to having gone for a swim after work and having cuddled multiple kitties, indoors and out.
In better news, someone is coming over to look at the strays on Wednesday, so cross your fingers she's a good cat person. I'll be happy and relieved, while at the same time depressed (because I'll miss them), if I can get them well placed. I finished the HBP. I really enjoyed Rowlings' storytelling--her identity politics bugged me, though, throughout the books, and weaken some of my investment in where she's going with the story. I'll undoubtedly talk more about it in a future entry.
Here's a pic of my dad with his big brother from two years ago that my cousin sent me last week. Dad's the one in blue. No, he doesn't dye his hair. That's what 76 looks like when you do tai chi for a couple hours a day everyday.
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Ty. I've been pretty gloomy to work with, so I need to do something about that.
I do, too. She cancelled on me tonight last minute without a sorry, and rescheduled for tomorrow night, which I wasn't thrilled with, but that doesn't mean she can't still be a good cat person. She's got a house and a sick old kitty who is dear to her, so I'm hoping. I got a call tonight from someone who said she wanted both, but it turned out her lease only allows her one pet, so not a good match.
I need to check out your tarot quiz--I like tarot too.