Home Again
The "Final Hospital Saga" turned out to have been a premature announcement. My mother came home from the hospital yesterday (Monday) instead of Saturday, as planned earlier. The delay was not due to a deterioration in her condition, but rather because the Home Health assistance we felt we needed had not been arranged in time. There was a misunderstanding about our wishes in the matter. When the doctors found out what we wanted, they told us that the arrangements must be made before discharge from the hospital. Since it had not happened on Friday, and the people who do that were not in till Monday, we needed to wait.
I think those of us who should have worked things out were either suffering from caregiver's fatigue, a frantic schedule, or just plain cluelessness. I had told Dad on Friday what I thought we needed, but did not follow up with making the necessary phone calls, etc. and when I asked the family for volunteers to do so, no one volunteered. Not a proud moment.
On the bright side, everyone adapted easily to the new plan, and we had a little more time to get the place ready for Mom than we would have had otherwise, and she had a little more time under careful medical monitoring. She came home on a day of unseasonably warm temperatures, with a high around 70. Today is very cold, windy, and snowy. Tonight the temperature is predicted to go down to 13 degrees. We're all glad no one is needing to make any more treks to and from Wichita in this weather.
I wish I could say that Mom got a shot of energy as soon as she was in her own home again, but that has not been the case. She smiled when she walked in, but she seems very weak and still looks pale because of her anemia. Last night and today she was nauseated and threw up several times. A call to the hospital produced instructions to skip one of her meds till tomorrow. She seems to feel really comfortable and relaxed, however, for the most part, and I think she will soak up the feeling of peace for a long time.
The drug account I gave in an earlier blog post also turns out to be wildly inaccurate. I was deceived by not seeing all the pills she was being given, and I knew that her IV meds had been discontinued. The list of medications on her discharge sheet was at least 3 single-spaced vertical inches long. Lois filled a bag full of prescriptions at the pharmacy on her way home, and racked up a bill of $60.00, which included only a $4.00 copayment for each drug--hundreds of dollars worth otherwise. Mom has hardly ever taken prescription medications till now, except for one that helps control her blood sugar, which had been started in recent months.
Three people are scheduled to come in to Mom's home, each of them several times a week: a nurse, a physical therapist, and an occupational therapist. We made this choice because, in some cases, we know what needs doing and are not very good at giving Mom orders, and our persuasive powers fall short. In other cases, we are truly ignorant of all the small steps in accomplishing what needs to happen. This became obvious to me in the hospital when I watched the professionals tell Mom just where to put her hands and where to grab hold when she was getting in or out of bed. They had instructions for her too when she was using her walker that I would never have thought to say: "Keep your chin up. Keep your back nice and straight. Don't let the walker get out too far in front." "You have good balance" they also told her, "and you walk at a good pace."
About ten years ago, Mom and Dad planned ahead wisely when they bought an eight year old house for a retirement home. This house is wheel chair accessible all around--one level, wide doorways, and open floor plan. The south wall of the living room is a wall of windows, all the way to the peak of the cathedral ceiling. The house is super-insulated, with two 2 x 4 stud walls all around the exterior, with a three-inch air space between the two walls. All together, the walls are about nine inches thick, with three sides of the house earth sheltered about halfway to the eaves. It could hardly be more safe and cozy during adverse weather.
Dietrich is well again and Kristi was going to be in school again today I believe. She has missed three weeks of school, with only a few days respite between the flu and chicken pox. She was well enough yesterday to help me create a "Welcome Home" banner when I took my supplies to their house and we worked at their dining room table, making use of some of their supplies too.
My sisters, Lois and Linda, both live next door to Mom and Dad, and Linda is staying at their house for the time being. Lois helps care for Mom as her family responsibilities allow.
It's good to see how the Lord has provided for this time, putting pieces together long before any of us knew exactly what the current circumstances would call for.
I kept thinking today of the nursery rhyme line: "Home again, home again, jiggety jog." The "jiggety jog" doesn't describe my mom's movements at all, but it's fun to say. When I think of how she pushes her walker along, it seems like "slippety slog" is more nearly right, and the rhythm works. At any rate, by any means, having her here and moving about in her own home is worth a cheerful nursery rhyme chant, and a prayer of thanksgiving.
I think those of us who should have worked things out were either suffering from caregiver's fatigue, a frantic schedule, or just plain cluelessness. I had told Dad on Friday what I thought we needed, but did not follow up with making the necessary phone calls, etc. and when I asked the family for volunteers to do so, no one volunteered. Not a proud moment.
On the bright side, everyone adapted easily to the new plan, and we had a little more time to get the place ready for Mom than we would have had otherwise, and she had a little more time under careful medical monitoring. She came home on a day of unseasonably warm temperatures, with a high around 70. Today is very cold, windy, and snowy. Tonight the temperature is predicted to go down to 13 degrees. We're all glad no one is needing to make any more treks to and from Wichita in this weather.
I wish I could say that Mom got a shot of energy as soon as she was in her own home again, but that has not been the case. She smiled when she walked in, but she seems very weak and still looks pale because of her anemia. Last night and today she was nauseated and threw up several times. A call to the hospital produced instructions to skip one of her meds till tomorrow. She seems to feel really comfortable and relaxed, however, for the most part, and I think she will soak up the feeling of peace for a long time.
The drug account I gave in an earlier blog post also turns out to be wildly inaccurate. I was deceived by not seeing all the pills she was being given, and I knew that her IV meds had been discontinued. The list of medications on her discharge sheet was at least 3 single-spaced vertical inches long. Lois filled a bag full of prescriptions at the pharmacy on her way home, and racked up a bill of $60.00, which included only a $4.00 copayment for each drug--hundreds of dollars worth otherwise. Mom has hardly ever taken prescription medications till now, except for one that helps control her blood sugar, which had been started in recent months.
Three people are scheduled to come in to Mom's home, each of them several times a week: a nurse, a physical therapist, and an occupational therapist. We made this choice because, in some cases, we know what needs doing and are not very good at giving Mom orders, and our persuasive powers fall short. In other cases, we are truly ignorant of all the small steps in accomplishing what needs to happen. This became obvious to me in the hospital when I watched the professionals tell Mom just where to put her hands and where to grab hold when she was getting in or out of bed. They had instructions for her too when she was using her walker that I would never have thought to say: "Keep your chin up. Keep your back nice and straight. Don't let the walker get out too far in front." "You have good balance" they also told her, "and you walk at a good pace."
About ten years ago, Mom and Dad planned ahead wisely when they bought an eight year old house for a retirement home. This house is wheel chair accessible all around--one level, wide doorways, and open floor plan. The south wall of the living room is a wall of windows, all the way to the peak of the cathedral ceiling. The house is super-insulated, with two 2 x 4 stud walls all around the exterior, with a three-inch air space between the two walls. All together, the walls are about nine inches thick, with three sides of the house earth sheltered about halfway to the eaves. It could hardly be more safe and cozy during adverse weather.
Dietrich is well again and Kristi was going to be in school again today I believe. She has missed three weeks of school, with only a few days respite between the flu and chicken pox. She was well enough yesterday to help me create a "Welcome Home" banner when I took my supplies to their house and we worked at their dining room table, making use of some of their supplies too.
My sisters, Lois and Linda, both live next door to Mom and Dad, and Linda is staying at their house for the time being. Lois helps care for Mom as her family responsibilities allow.
It's good to see how the Lord has provided for this time, putting pieces together long before any of us knew exactly what the current circumstances would call for.
I kept thinking today of the nursery rhyme line: "Home again, home again, jiggety jog." The "jiggety jog" doesn't describe my mom's movements at all, but it's fun to say. When I think of how she pushes her walker along, it seems like "slippety slog" is more nearly right, and the rhythm works. At any rate, by any means, having her here and moving about in her own home is worth a cheerful nursery rhyme chant, and a prayer of thanksgiving.
posted by Mrs. I at
2:26 PM
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