Tag Archives: hospital

Goodbye 2025!!

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2025 was the worst year of my life. Worse than when my mom passed away. Worse than when my Granny passed away. Worse than when I made the decision to leave my ex. Worse than when my daughter found herself mixed up with the wrong man, drugs, and ended up in court, and in jail for 2 weeks. This year has been one I’d like to erase from history. 

In July, Dad fell outside, and I had to call 911 for assistance in getting him off the ground. That didn’t go as planned. The ambulance took over an hour to arrive, and during that hour, in the hottest part of the day, my dad had a heat stroke. Three of our volunteer firefighters showed up to help me keep Dad cool with wet towels. When the ambulance finally came, I thought I was going to have a heat stroke, too. It was 90-something that day! Upon arrival to the hospital, I could barely breathe. I thought we were going to lose Dad. The grief was all-consuming, and if it weren’t for my sisters, brother-in-law, “other daughter,” granddaughter, and grandson, I’d have been a much worse mess than I was. They were there for me. They comforted me when I slipped into deeper depression and when all I could do was cry. 

Dad recovered from that horrific incident. My son and his wife helped. My sister stayed to help, too. She was here for over 2 months. Dad got stronger and stronger, and I was finally able to care for him on my own. During that recovery time, there was some family drama that I won’t go into here, but because of that drama, things will never be the same with certain family members, and they will never get the same version of me as before. 

In October, my stubborn Dad decided he needed to do a chore outside. It was something that Contractor #2 could have done, but Dad wanted to do it. Well, I wasn’t going to let him go out and do it without my help. In the process of doing this chore, Dad fell and not just onto the ground. He fell into the barbed wire fence and ripped his forearm open. When I say ripped, I mean ripped big time! Dad is on a blood thinner, so this was a problem. I called 911 because I couldn’t stop the bleeding, no matter what I did. The ambulance arrived in 25 minutes, much improved from the last time. He ended up with stitches that night. He healed nicely, and I told him flat out, “No more outside chores for you!” 

In December, Dad started feeling poorly. He was weak and short of breath. He was panting and struggling to walk. I kept telling him that he needed to go to the doctor. He said he knew, but he kept putting it off. He didn’t want to go. After several days, he decided he’d better do something. He knew he wouldn’t be able to walk to the ER entrance, even if I pulled up front. He said, “You’d better call 911.” I did just that, and 30 minutes later, the ambulance pulled up. Before the ambulance came, our volunteer firefighters came to help again. They immediately checked his pulse rate and oxygen level and gave him oxygen while we waited for the ambulance. Poor Dad had been suffering from a case of pneumonia! It wasn’t full-blown pneumonia, but it could have been had he not gone to the hospital! He was on O2 the entire time. He was in the hospital for 9 days and came home the day after Christmas with home O2 equipment. We skipped Christmas altogether. 

It’s been difficult taking care of him by myself. My pain level has skyrocketed, and my mobility issues are worse than ever before. Since they didn’t walk Dad in the hospital, he became unable to do anything unassisted. So, I have been helping him with everything. A few days ago, I told him he has to start walking a little at a time so he can get stronger. He’s been doing that, and I think within a week or so, I may not have to work as hard to take care of him. He’ll be a little more independent, and I’ll still be right here to help. 

So, there’s 2025. The first 6 months weren’t too bad, but July brought us pain and uncertainty. I’m happy that I still have Dad here with me to bring in the New Year. He will be 89 in February. I hope to have many more years with him, but I accept the fact that my time with him may be coming to an end. He has been my best friend for so many years. He helped me raise my children when their father couldn’t be bothered. We designed and started building our new house together, the house we have yet to move into. I hope Dad sees the house finished and can actually live in it and be proud of what he has done. 

I know I’m rambling, so I’ll finish this post with my best wishes to you and yours in the New Year! May we all have a great year!

Until next time,

Stronger and Better

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If you’ve been following my blog, you know that my Dad suffered a fall and heat stroke on July 4th. I was worried that he would be leaving this world. I was not sleeping or eating. I was a nervous wreck. A lot of drama happened. It was exhausting.

I was back and forth to the hospital in our car, which was in dire need of repair. I didn’t know how bad it actually was until several weeks later! When my sister and I were finally able to take the car in, we were told that it was too dangerous to drive and that we were lucky to have made it there! We were urged NOT to drive it home (they wouldn’t be able to get it done in the short time left in the day), and we were promptly given a ride home. The bands in the tires were twisted, and one was ready to explode! A rod was bent, and some other crazy shit I was not expecting. I mean, you can’t tell by looking at the car, but Dad and I regularly take it in for check-ups, tune-ups, oil changes, and all that good stuff. I can’t understand why it was so bad. Anyway, the problem has been fixed. The bill was a whopping $1,371.52!!

Next, the a/c has been out of commission for a couple of years, and Dad never wanted to spend the money on it. Ok, I get it. But now, after Dad’s heat stroke, it needs to be fixed! I cannot take him to his appointments in this heat! I took it in a week ago to have them look at it. Instead of it being the condenser (as we were told by another mechanic), it turned out to be the evaporator. I had to bring the car home again, with no a/c because they need all day to get it done. That will cost another $1,300 or more because they have to pull out the dash, and the whole process is a huge job. I am bringing the car in first thing in the morning and getting a loaner because there’s no way I’m sitting there all day long! Then, I have to get a safety inspection on the car. Does this shit never end?!

Dad has weekly visits from a Home Health Nurse, Physical Therapist, and Occupational Therapist. He has really come a long way since he first came home. He stands on his own and walks with a walker. He’s really bored out of his skull because he can’t do anything without me or my sister. He’s not quite ready for that. He has a little ways to go, and then he will be able to sleep in a real bed instead of that stiff and uncomfortable hospital bed. I’d say a few more weeks, and then my son can come get the damn thing.

With my sister’s help, the living room can go back to the way it was, and I can get the bedroom ready for Dad. I’ll wash the bedding and remove some boxes of stuff. I know he’s ready to sleep in a real bed!

I called a couple of guys to come look at the new house. Since the first guy decided that other jobs were more important than finishing ours, I had no choice but to seek out other contractors. One guy came out yesterday. He knows our remaining budget and thinks he can get the house livable for us. The other guy will come by this weekend. Maybe between the two, we will be ready to move into our new home in a couple of months. I guess that will also depend on when they can start.

I can honestly say, while Dad is getting stronger and better, so am I. I refuse to ask certain people for help. I will never ask for help again just to have things thrown in my face later. I don’t need people in my life who pull that petty shit with me.

I will keep you all posted! With any luck, 2025 will end with us getting some good luck instead of bad for a change!

Until next time,

Stress, Worry, and Pain

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Where to start?! So much has happened in the last week, it’s just kind of a blur. I’ll start on July 4th, which seems like such a long time ago!

Last Friday, Dad and I headed out for a Walmart curbside order. We picked up our order, stopped for gas, and headed home. When we got home, Dad said he had to pee but that he wasn’t going to make it to the toilet so he stepped to the side of the yard and did his business. We live out in the boonies, so there’s no one around to see anything. While Dad was doing his thing, I was unloading the trunk and putting our groceries in the utility cart so we could lug it into the house. All of a sudden, I heard a yell, and when I looked up, Dad was on his hands and knees trying to get up.

He wasn’t injured, and he was coherent. He had just lost his balance and went down. He’s been doing this off and on for the last year or so but never outside. I rushed over to help but there’s nothing for him to hang onto in order for him to help me help him get up. Does that make sense? I tried and tried to get him up, but it just wasn’t working. I hobbled myself into the house to get the bathlift, which is like the lift they advertise on tv for the elderly when they fall. The only difference is that the bathlift is heavier. I tried to help him get his butt on the seat but he couldn’t sit up enough for it to work. He got so weak trying to get up that he just couldn’t anymore.

I called 9-1-1 at this point because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do this without help. I told the dispatcher I needed help getting him off the ground and to please hurry because he’s in the sun! I was almost in a panic when Dad became unresponsive. There he was lying there IN THE SUN, and I was helpless. I grabbed our wet towels we had in the car (to help us stay cool because the a/c is on the fritz) and I wet them down more, and laid them across Dad’s head and back to help keep him cool. The ambulance was taking its sweet time! I called 9-1-1 again. The dispatcher asked for the address again. I told her AGAIN. I think I called 3 times and each time I told her that Dad was on the ground and IN THE SUN, and that I couldn’t get him up.

By this time, our neighbor, Mike, who is a volunteer firefighter, came to help. Two other helpful men came over, also volunteer firefighters, but honestly I have no clue who showed up first. We got more towels to drape over him and one guy had an umbrella he used to keep the direct sun off of Dad.

Finally, the ambulance came. One of the paramedics told me that the dispatcher gave them the wrong address, plus she never relayed the message that this was a heat related incident. I am so angry at that woman! They took Dad to the hospital. I was so hot and stressed out by then, I went inside and jumped in the shower, A COLD SHOWER, to be exact. I just sat there on the shower chair and cried as I cooled off. It was awful. I prayed that Dad would be ok. Then off to the hospital I went.

I had to talk to so many people, and I was dehydrated, so my mouth and throat became so dry I couldn’t talk unless someone brought me some water. They did, and it helped, but not very much. They took Dad to ICU and then they brought me to the ICU waiting room. At this point, I started texting people to let them know what had happened. It didn’t look great for Dad. He was still unresponsive and his temperature had been at 104 degrees when he came in. They were able to get his temp down to normal and he was on all kinds of IV drips and holy crap, it was awful seeing him like that! He was also on a ventilator. He suffered severe burns on his calves from the fabric of his pants touching his skin. IT WAS THAT HOT.

I don’t remember who came first. It could have been my son, since he lives closest but I can’t be sure. The grandkids (Dad’s great grandkids) started coming. I was so overwhelmed by everything, it’s just so blurry. The next day, my sisters and my brother in law came in from Tennessee. My daughter had just been here a couple of weeks before this happened. She had been worried that something would happen and that she’d not been able to see him. I’m glad she came when she did. Work interfered with her coming at this time because she just started as manager of a new Pizza Hut when she got home from her visit.

As the days have gone by, Dad has slowly showed improvement. He came off the vent with a throat sore he couldn’t talk. As the swelling came down, his speech improved. Still not at 100% so it’s a little hard to understand him. He had been on a diet of puree and thickened liquids until yesterday, when they changed it to a mechanical diet. That means he can eat things like meat but it looks like it’s been chewed up already. LOL. His burns are healing. They took him off the IV drips yesterday. They have had him up walking. It tires him out terribly but he’s doing better.

As I was leaving yesterday, they were getting a regular room ready for him. From here they want him to get some physical therapy to make him stronger so we found a place closer to home that takes his insurance. He will be moving there soon, but it’s only temporary, until he’s stronger and can come home. Please pray that he does well enough to come home.

In case you don’t know, I am disabled and can only walk with crutches. This proved to be very difficult for me to get across the hospital parking lot to the building. Every day. When my sisters were here, my youngest sister got a transport chair and pushed me around, making it easier on me. After they left though, I was on my own. I am not strong enough to get my wheelchair in the car otherwise I would have been able to wheel myself around. They have a guy that drives a cart around the parking lots, giving people rides but I had a difficult time getting on and off of that thing so I just walk. I’m in so much pain I just want to sit on my ass and not move at all. This morning my arms and shoulders are sore from using the crutches, I assume. I was going to go see Dad today, but I don’t think I can do that walk again.

I may have forgotten some details but I think you can understand all that happened. It’s been such a short time but it seems like it’s been weeks. I miss Dad not being home. It’s been difficult, mentally and physically. Tomorrow’s my birthday and Dad won’t be here. We don’t celebrate our birthdays really but it’s many, many years (30+) that he’s not been here on my birthday. It seems so strange.

I now need to figure out how I can get that new house finished so when Dad comes home it’s to a nice house instead of a dump. That’s the focus. My family might be coming back and I think they will help me get things figured out. Fingers crossed that all goes well. I will keep you all posted as best I can. Please pray for us!

Until next time,

PS I apologize for spelling and grammar errors. I’m lucky I can even see straight at this point.

The Hospital From Hell

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Last week was one I’d like to never repeat. 

It all began with Dad’s blood pressure going up…and staying up. He was having a-fib episodes. He recorded his BP for 3 days and decided he needed to go to the ER. Off we went.

I expected to have to wait; it was the ER after all. They took Dad to triage right away. His BP sky-rocketed to 203 over something. I can’t even recall the numbers now. But that was too high and he should have been seen right away. 2 hours went by in the waiting room before someone came in and took Dad’s BP again. It had gone down to 188 over something. I was glad it went down but it was still too high. He could have a heart attack or stroke! I figured they’d be calling us back soon. 

Yeah right. There was virtually no one in the waiting room when we got there but quickly filled up. There were people puking in bags, a sick Mennonite baby, an ankle injury, a 7-year-old with a life-long issue with twisted intestines who was screaming at the top of his lungs in pain, an elderly woman who fell and broke her shoulder, and numerous others. (Dad and I were wearing masks, thankfully!) Everyone was being called back before us! I was getting pissed because high BP is a serious issue! With his readings being so high you’d think they’d put him on the priority list. They kept telling us that as soon as they had a room, we’d be called back. Geez. I wondered how they had a room for all of those others they took before us! Finally, after a 7-hour wait, they called us back.

The doctor came in right away, which was a surprise! He ordered an EKG right away and a drug to bring his BP down. The nurse came in sometime later and asked if anyone set Dad up with an IV. I asked, “Why does he need an IV?” She was a snot about answering. Not very pleasant at all. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know why he needed an IV. She told me it was so they could give him the meds to lower his BP. I said, “Ok, that’s fine but don’t they have a shot for that?” She got snippy and said, “I’ll check.” She left and came back with a syringe and proceeded to bare Dad’s arm for the shot. 

I asked, “How long will it take for his BP to come down?” She told me she didn’t know. She said it would be slow and that the IV would have been quicker. I snapped at that point and said, “It would have been nice to know that beforehand!” I mean, fuck. I was worried that she had the wrong patient and about Dad being poked and prodded while they try to find a vein for the IV. He was shivering cold, for Christ’s sake! If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of this then you know it’s sometimes hard to get a vein right away when the patient is cold. And if you have a nurse that isn’t that competent, which you won’t know until she needs 20 minutes to find a vein, then it’s even worse! Anyway, she could have explained that the IV would have been quicker and then we could decide which way to go. The bitch acted like it was killing her to tell us what was going on!

After more time passed, the nurse came back in and untucked dad’s t-shirt. She just grabbed it and pulled it up. Now, I’m not a medical “professional” but I did work in a nursing home for several years as a Med Tech and CNA. My training included intensive coverage of patient rights, privacy, and dignity. You are supposed to tell the patient what you’re doing, as you’re doing it. Dad didn’t know what the hell was going on. The nurse started sticking little tabs/sensors all over his torso. He was agitated and asked, “What the hell’s going on?” She said she was getting him ready for the EKG. Why the hell couldn’t she tell him that before she started pulling on him? I was getting pissed. 

And regarding patient privacy…every damn time someone came in they left the door and the curtain open! So, they let the cold in again and every time someone walked by they had to look in! I was getting tired of closing the door and curtain. Oh, and that snotty nurse said she would bring dad a warm blanket but she never did! 

Dad’s BP was taken automatically every 30 minutes. It went down slowly but it did go down. But then the last BP reading was higher; it jumped from 168 over something to 179 over something…and about then the nurse came in and said they were letting him go. I asked, “What about that?” I was pointing to the machine that had his last reading on it. She acted like she had no clue what I was talking about. I told her, “His BP shot back up!” and I added, “These are dangerous readings!” So, she took his BP again while she said the drug will continue to work to bring it down. The doctor came in and suggested dad see his regular doctor….DUH. He said that he will need to see a cardiologist for the a-fib. Geez. So helpful they are. 

After 8 1/2 hours, we were on our way home…in the dark, which I am not used to. We’re talking an hour’s drive along country roads. My eyes play tricks on me in the dark. The lights and glare from other vehicles, and other lights, make it very hard to see, and to have to watch for deer, possums, and other critters is scary! At one point, I heard this loud dog barking. It scared the daylights out of me! I didn’t see anything at all but I imagine it was a stupid car-chasing dog that came awfully close to my car as I was passing! He got lucky. 

By the time we got home, it was after 2:00am. We were exhausted, especially Dad. We hadn’t eaten since lunch and we were too tired to worry about it at 2 in the morning! We both slept about 2 hours.

Dad got an appointment the next day to see his doctor and she didn’t do anything either. She just wanted him to record his BP readings for a week and then come back. Geez. He always keeps track of his BP. Why add another week? Why risk a damn stroke or heart attack with another week of high readings? His BP has been better this week but it’s still too high. I am ready to strangle these people! He will see her again on Wednesday and he will insist on seeing a cardiologist. He’s worried to death and that doesn’t help his BP. I’m worried and I’m afraid to take mine! 

I don’t know how much more of this either one of us can take! The next time we have to go to the hospital, we will go to the one on the Arkansas border. It’s the same distance and maybe, just maybe they will be quicker, more competent, and more respectful. Hopefully, we’ll get Dad’s BP down and I’ll have him with me for much longer. I’m just not ready to let go…and he isn’t either. 

 

 

No More Monkeys Jumping On The Bed

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Once when my sisters and I were young, my youngest sister, who was probably around 5 years old, was jumping on the furniture. She knew better. Mom and Dad were always telling us to “stop jumping on the furniture!” Youngest sister was a brat and a half and did it anyway. She fell and knocked her head on the coffee table. Then she ran like a bat out of hell because she knew she was in big trouble! Everyone was chasing her, trying to catch her because she had blood spewing out of her head!! So, to the hospital she went. I don’t recall how many stitches she ended up with, but to my knowledge, she never jumped on the furniture again! In fact, I don’t think any of us ever jumped on the furniture again!

Goes to show you, kids don’t always do as they’re told. They have to learn on their own. As parents, we just have to pray they don’t kill themselves while learning their life lessons.

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