Around and around and around we go. We try to keep positive - all of us; not just me. She's in the hospital again. After she came home, she did great. She made progress: she could walk short distances more easily, she could stand for a short time unassisted, as long as she was in reach of support. She could trust herself getting onto and off of the toilet. She ate like a champ. We all rejoiced to see these changes.
Then her doctor said, "No. You cannot stand up without your rollator. No. You cannot walk without your rollator. You are too sick to do these things." Then Mom didn't just regress; she leaped backwards, and with whiplash force. Within a week she was convinced she had to go back to the emergency room. She was admitted again. She stayed several days and was once again released into rehab for physical therapy.
She didn't really make progress this time. Then she started sliding backwards further. She started getting tired quickly and sleeping more, and then she started being confused all the time again. I would give her hugs and smile at her, but I knew she wasn't right. The nurse came to weigh her one day when I was there. She noticed how out of it Mom was and requested the doctor to approve a urinalysis. Mom started running a high fever - from her normal 96.7, she was at 103 by the time they transferred her back to the ER for "evaluation."
She was admitted. Again. UTI. No sign of pneumonia, kidney failure or any of the other usual suspects. But I found out a couple days later that there is an infection in her blood from the kidneys. So, not kidney failure? They had her on a liquid diet. At first it made sense because she was nauseous all the time, but they didn't show signs of putting her back on solids even after the nausea subsided. Her mood started degrading and she didn't speak when we visited and she just looked away from us and cried.
Today she refused to take her pills and still wouldn't speak to anyone. My sister and I went to see her, and Dad was still there, still sitting talking to a wall because she wasn't even acknowledging him. He left a few minutes later hoping that she'd talk to us if he wasn't there. All she said was that he couldn't even stay until the doctor came. Ann and I corrected her immediately on that point - he had been there for over three hours with her behaving like that. We hope she apologized later.
I tried to cajole her into saying something - anything - else but she clammed back up. I let her know that we were there for her. That it's only fair for us to be there for her since she was there for us all those years. That we love her and we know she's tired of being in institutions and just wants to come home. We know. We know. But we can't bring her home until she's well enough and until she reaches her physical therapy goals - the ones that she set for herself.
My sister went to find her doctor while I was trying to talk Mom into talking. I told her that I sensed a lot of fear and a lot of anger in her behavior. I said again that we are with her, that we are there for her.
The doctor came, and brought along the nurse on duty and the hospital's chaplain. The doctor gave her the "team-player" talk without actually using the term "team-player." He's a young man, and I was impressed with how smoothly and easily he got her to work out of her funk. He finally asked her what it would take for her to do her part. She responded angrily, but clearly: "Get me some damn food! You have me on a liquid diet!"
The doctor asked why she was still on liquids and no one could answer so he said, "Well that's something I can fix right now. You can eat whatever you want - just EAT! Then take your meds. Then you will start to improve and we can move on to the next steps."
My sister left immediately to get her a cheeseburger and a kid's size frosty from Wendy's (one of Mom's favorites). The doctor talked to Mom a few minutes more, then the chaplain sat and prayed with her while I spoke to the doctor. I told him how much importance Mom places on food that tastes good. He reiterated that she can eat whatever she wants as long as she gets better. She is not the text book patient. No doubt about that!
After everyone else left, and before my sister came back, Mom said, softly, "I was having a temper tantrum." I replied that she was, and that it happens sometimes. I was about to continue when I heard a paper bag jostling in the door. The food had arrived!
Mom ate the sandwich - all but two bites - and was 1/2-way through the frosty when she remembered her other instruction from the doctor. She asked for her pills. I could hear a choir of angels singing in joy for her. I might have been singing with them. She took her pills without hesitation and when she finished the frosty she told us, "You can go now." We took that as dismissal, but we made sure to tell her that we love her and we'd be back as soon as we could. She finally said, grudgingly, "I love you, too."
We weren't even out of the parking lot when my cell phone rang with her asking for something to tidy up her hair. Sigh. I'm glad she felt well enough to care about her hair. But seriously - emotional whiplash over and over again.
No comments:
Post a Comment