Nanama in the Hospital
2019-03-16
It keeps getting worse. Esther watched her Nanama at dialysis on Monday of spring break. She said that the transportation people reported that Mom had gotten out of her wheel chair, walked through the emergency exit and left the nursing home with alarms blaring. The administration of the home told me that she was always within sight of the staff. She’s a fall risk and whenever I’ve visited her there, mom has been in a wheel chair. They’ve lost her protective helmet so she should not be walking around. Nanama kept trying to get out of the chair at dialysis she also kept putting her hand to her mouth like she was eating something and once bit the blanket on her sitting on her lap.
The nursing home moved her to a secure floor on Monday. When I came on Tuesday they had moved her but hadn’t moved any of her belongings. I explained to her where I was putting everything and thought she understood me. Though she didn’t talk much her responses made sense. Later that day they reported that she had complained about pain in her right shoulder and were planning on doing x-rays.
I came to see her at the nursing home on Wednesday. The nurse reported that she had been up all night wandering the halls. I showed a picture of Mom wearing her helmet to the nurse so he could look for it. Sometimes it’s a disadvantage to have her helmet disguised as a cute pink knitted cap. She was in a wheelchair in the recreational room and seemed agitated. She didn’t have her glasses on, but when I brought them to her she took them off and tried to eat them. I put them back in her room. The transportation lady came soon after and I followed them and took my turn at dialysis. I didn’t notice that the shirt she was dressed in was her night shirt and that she didn’t have a belt to hold up her jeans or that they hadn’t put a depends on her. She must have been so uncomfortable in her dialysis chair being dressed so inappropriately.
The initial x-rays done by the nursing home on Mom’s shoulder didn’t reveal anything, but she winced when I pulled her up in her dialysis chair though I was ever so careful. The home requested that she go from dialysis to the ER for better x-rays. After fighting with her for three hours and sitting on the receiving end of her angry glares I went with her to the ER. After they did the x-ray which showed nothing wrong with her shoulder, I demanded that they run all their usual tests again. Something was very wrong.
She wouldn’t sit in the ER bed but would jump out and try to get out of the room. I redirected her to a chair in the room and back to bed for two hours straight. When she was in the bed, I tried the TV, but she couldn’t see it without her glasses. Then wondering if music from her youth would calm her, I played Elvis on my phone. It was a painful sacrifice on my part, but she liked it and crooned along. She crooned to me, “I want to be your teddy bear.” Who can fathom a sillier song? When she was tired of that we listened to an audio book. After hours of exhausting vigilance, the doctor found a possible spot of pneumonia which was enough to land her a room in the hospital for observation.
“I want to be your teddy bear.” was the last thing I’ve heard Mom say in three days. I spent the first night in the hospital with her and during the brief hours of sleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair, the nurses took her to their station and kept her busy scribbling on paper with colored pencils. After that she tossed restlessly in bed for the next two days. It took forever for them to find a way to sedate her for an MRI. They succeeded on Friday morning and she fell into the first good sleep she had had all week.
The MRI ruled out the possibility of strokes. The full spectrum antibiotics prescribed for pneumonia didn’t help her either. I have been keeping a bullet journal for daily experiences and special sections for Mom. I was able to give the doctor dates for her medication changes and falls and blow by blow descriptions of everything that has changed in the past two weeks.
Wednesday was the hardest day for me. I put out a plea for help on Facebook and three friends contacted me to help watch Mom. Another friend came and picked up Justin for the day, and another friend watched the three youngest kids while I took Esther to the travel doctor for a typhoid fever vaccination in preparation for her missions trip. Once Mom was in the hospital, they assigned her professional sitters who watch her full time to keep her from climbing out of the bed. They also turn her from side to side. That has freed me up to salvage some part of spring break with the kids.
The kids have been so wonderful, taking good care of each other. Mike and Sophia are out of town for the week, but having Esther being able to drive and drag her sibling to the park and bring them fast food has been a life saver. Jonah has been making blueberry muffins a lot and Basil has presided over cereal meals.
My housekeeper has kept the house from morphing into an out of control mess. There is a semblance of order for me to come home to at the end of each sitting session with Mom.
Because Mom is now officially admitted to the hospital she has three more days covered by Medicare. Also at the end of her stay she has a choice of many nursing homes. I’m getting her out of the one she was at and will put her in a home that she’s stayed at twice before with good experience. It makes me feel optimistic to hear the hospital coordinator asking me about our plans once Mom leaves the hospital.
I can’t say enough thanks as well for all the people lifting us up in prayer. I can see so many things that are going well in the midst of this storm. Yesterday afternoon Justin followed me around when I came home. We went to the master bedroom closet where I put my shoes away and switched into soft fuzzy socks.
“I love these socks Justin. It’s the small things in life that matter the most.”
“Like me?” he asked. “I’m small.”
I bundled him into my arms and assured my sweet six-year-old that he’s always important.
2019-03-16
It keeps getting worse. Esther watched her Nanama at dialysis on Monday of spring break. She said that the transportation people reported that Mom had gotten out of her wheel chair, walked through the emergency exit and left the nursing home with alarms blaring. The administration of the home told me that she was always within sight of the staff. She’s a fall risk and whenever I’ve visited her there, mom has been in a wheel chair. They’ve lost her protective helmet so she should not be walking around. Nanama kept trying to get out of the chair at dialysis she also kept putting her hand to her mouth like she was eating something and once bit the blanket on her sitting on her lap.
The nursing home moved her to a secure floor on Monday. When I came on Tuesday they had moved her but hadn’t moved any of her belongings. I explained to her where I was putting everything and thought she understood me. Though she didn’t talk much her responses made sense. Later that day they reported that she had complained about pain in her right shoulder and were planning on doing x-rays.
I came to see her at the nursing home on Wednesday. The nurse reported that she had been up all night wandering the halls. I showed a picture of Mom wearing her helmet to the nurse so he could look for it. Sometimes it’s a disadvantage to have her helmet disguised as a cute pink knitted cap. She was in a wheelchair in the recreational room and seemed agitated. She didn’t have her glasses on, but when I brought them to her she took them off and tried to eat them. I put them back in her room. The transportation lady came soon after and I followed them and took my turn at dialysis. I didn’t notice that the shirt she was dressed in was her night shirt and that she didn’t have a belt to hold up her jeans or that they hadn’t put a depends on her. She must have been so uncomfortable in her dialysis chair being dressed so inappropriately.
The initial x-rays done by the nursing home on Mom’s shoulder didn’t reveal anything, but she winced when I pulled her up in her dialysis chair though I was ever so careful. The home requested that she go from dialysis to the ER for better x-rays. After fighting with her for three hours and sitting on the receiving end of her angry glares I went with her to the ER. After they did the x-ray which showed nothing wrong with her shoulder, I demanded that they run all their usual tests again. Something was very wrong.
She wouldn’t sit in the ER bed but would jump out and try to get out of the room. I redirected her to a chair in the room and back to bed for two hours straight. When she was in the bed, I tried the TV, but she couldn’t see it without her glasses. Then wondering if music from her youth would calm her, I played Elvis on my phone. It was a painful sacrifice on my part, but she liked it and crooned along. She crooned to me, “I want to be your teddy bear.” Who can fathom a sillier song? When she was tired of that we listened to an audio book. After hours of exhausting vigilance, the doctor found a possible spot of pneumonia which was enough to land her a room in the hospital for observation.
“I want to be your teddy bear.” was the last thing I’ve heard Mom say in three days. I spent the first night in the hospital with her and during the brief hours of sleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair, the nurses took her to their station and kept her busy scribbling on paper with colored pencils. After that she tossed restlessly in bed for the next two days. It took forever for them to find a way to sedate her for an MRI. They succeeded on Friday morning and she fell into the first good sleep she had had all week.
The MRI ruled out the possibility of strokes. The full spectrum antibiotics prescribed for pneumonia didn’t help her either. I have been keeping a bullet journal for daily experiences and special sections for Mom. I was able to give the doctor dates for her medication changes and falls and blow by blow descriptions of everything that has changed in the past two weeks.
Wednesday was the hardest day for me. I put out a plea for help on Facebook and three friends contacted me to help watch Mom. Another friend came and picked up Justin for the day, and another friend watched the three youngest kids while I took Esther to the travel doctor for a typhoid fever vaccination in preparation for her missions trip. Once Mom was in the hospital, they assigned her professional sitters who watch her full time to keep her from climbing out of the bed. They also turn her from side to side. That has freed me up to salvage some part of spring break with the kids.
The kids have been so wonderful, taking good care of each other. Mike and Sophia are out of town for the week, but having Esther being able to drive and drag her sibling to the park and bring them fast food has been a life saver. Jonah has been making blueberry muffins a lot and Basil has presided over cereal meals.
My housekeeper has kept the house from morphing into an out of control mess. There is a semblance of order for me to come home to at the end of each sitting session with Mom.
Because Mom is now officially admitted to the hospital she has three more days covered by Medicare. Also at the end of her stay she has a choice of many nursing homes. I’m getting her out of the one she was at and will put her in a home that she’s stayed at twice before with good experience. It makes me feel optimistic to hear the hospital coordinator asking me about our plans once Mom leaves the hospital.
I can’t say enough thanks as well for all the people lifting us up in prayer. I can see so many things that are going well in the midst of this storm. Yesterday afternoon Justin followed me around when I came home. We went to the master bedroom closet where I put my shoes away and switched into soft fuzzy socks.
“I love these socks Justin. It’s the small things in life that matter the most.”
“Like me?” he asked. “I’m small.”
I bundled him into my arms and assured my sweet six-year-old that he’s always important.