Put your hands together for.... drum roll please... dad's first day out of the hospital in 5 1/2 weeks! Fresh air (and at the end of October, is that air ever fresh!), change of scenery, and no hospital food! Where was the big night out!? None other than White Spot! (We used a wheelchair taxi without a spot of trouble.) Whilst we were there, family showed up, and then some friends... so it was a regular party all around. Dad was alert and engaged for the most part. A relief to see, particularily after those weeks of watching and wondering if he was going to make it.
I should have had dad in a wheelchair ages ago so I can keep an eye on him... certainly not worried about him tripping as we walk down the street!! Now the worry is me dumping him. I actually have no issues manhandling him in the chair... the issues are the lips on door sills and curbs. Yeah... they "say" they are wheelchair friendly. The slightest rise brings a 160-odd-pound wheelchair to a screeching halt. You try lifting the front end over one of those rises. Totally dangerous... definitely needs to be reviewed by some code or other.
Anyway, back to my story... It was cute... I asked dad what he wanted to eat... was it going to be a Triple 'O' burger? He said, "A man gets to pick his own meal for the first time in six months, he shouldn't go for the same old..."
That got a smile out of me! I proceeded to ask him what else he would like... meatloaf, chicken stir fry, tortellini? Ha! This is what they have been serving up at the hospital and the nurses have noticed in the past few days he has not been eating very much. Can you blame him!? The way he ate his prawns tonight (next best thing to steak - which was not on the menu) ... there is nothing wrong with his appetite.
I do have to say... I am feeling a bit guilty about the upcoming switch from hospital food to airline food. At least with the latter, he will have a fellow commiserator!
Not to be all pompous, and stttuuuuufff... but witnessing dad, and the older people on his floor, struggle with their day-to-day activities, loss of privacy and independance, and stuck eating uninspired food day in and day out... really makes me want to appreciate the simple things in life... that I can run up the five flights of stairs to dad's floor (they need to replace the guy in the basement who operates the elevator hoist... he's falling asleep on the job!). That I can make my own food choices... and they had better be healthy ones... I want to stay out of that hospital as long as I can!
(I have written this blog late at night while continuing to procrastinate about filling out the inventory papers. I realize it's a bit disjointed and I apologize for that. I may or may not get back to edit it. For now, I hope you get the gist of it.)
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Taking Care of Business
Think of all the things you need to do in a day/a week as life management... grocery shop, make meals, ensure home is clean, clothes are clean/pressed/mended, banking/investing/paying bills, paying taxes, driving yourself to work/school/errands. Now imagine you cannot do any of those things for yourself due to age, illness, injury. Who is going to do those things for you?
Little did I know what I was signing when dad asked mom and I to go the Notary Public with him to sign papers for Power of Attorney. It was a bright spring afternoon, and I can see my former carefree self meeting my parents at the Notary Public to sign the papers, and then skipping on with the rest of my day. I definitely did not consider the ramifications of signing those papers. (Not that I wouldn't - being the eldest, responsibility was drummed in from an early age.) I definitely did not foresee mom passing away and leaving me in the sole role of POA. That dads condition would deteriorate so quickly, leaving him in my full time care.
Which is precisely what happened. Dad swiftly turned into a full time job. When a family member is ill... they become top priority. Everything else takes second place. You find yourself trying to squeeze in time for yourself around the obligations. When I say 'time for yourself', I'm not talking about an afternoon at the spa or a day shopping - I'm talking about your career, continuing education, your own visits to a doctor or dentist (as if you want to go back to another doctors office), grocery shopping, making meals, the rest of your chores, time for friends...
One minute you are reminding your parent to pay their bills; the next, you know... you are managing two households. Forget an afternoon at the spa... I think I need a month at Canyon Ranch just to recover!
Many people have written up a will, in event of their death... but how many have written up Power of Attorney (someone to represent you and act in your best interest legally) and Representation Agreement (someone to represent you and act in your best interest medically)? Sometimes the unthinkable happens, and you live. No one can predict the future and you cannot prepare for every eventuality. (Though believe me, I wake up every night trying!) Just prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Have faith and trust that the person you have appointed will do their best in your worst. And no, I am not for hire. I am busting off to a beach in the South Seas... Power of Attorney has to have some perks!
Little did I know what I was signing when dad asked mom and I to go the Notary Public with him to sign papers for Power of Attorney. It was a bright spring afternoon, and I can see my former carefree self meeting my parents at the Notary Public to sign the papers, and then skipping on with the rest of my day. I definitely did not consider the ramifications of signing those papers. (Not that I wouldn't - being the eldest, responsibility was drummed in from an early age.) I definitely did not foresee mom passing away and leaving me in the sole role of POA. That dads condition would deteriorate so quickly, leaving him in my full time care.
Which is precisely what happened. Dad swiftly turned into a full time job. When a family member is ill... they become top priority. Everything else takes second place. You find yourself trying to squeeze in time for yourself around the obligations. When I say 'time for yourself', I'm not talking about an afternoon at the spa or a day shopping - I'm talking about your career, continuing education, your own visits to a doctor or dentist (as if you want to go back to another doctors office), grocery shopping, making meals, the rest of your chores, time for friends...
One minute you are reminding your parent to pay their bills; the next, you know... you are managing two households. Forget an afternoon at the spa... I think I need a month at Canyon Ranch just to recover!
Many people have written up a will, in event of their death... but how many have written up Power of Attorney (someone to represent you and act in your best interest legally) and Representation Agreement (someone to represent you and act in your best interest medically)? Sometimes the unthinkable happens, and you live. No one can predict the future and you cannot prepare for every eventuality. (Though believe me, I wake up every night trying!) Just prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Have faith and trust that the person you have appointed will do their best in your worst. And no, I am not for hire. I am busting off to a beach in the South Seas... Power of Attorney has to have some perks!
Can't Shake This Feeling
Monday, October 24, 2011
I walked in the door a short time ago from a busy day working on all the details that are involved with an international move times two. I feel sad and cannot shake the feeling. Slowly, I am recalling a conversation I had with someone at the hospital this afternoon. We were discussing how to transport/transfer dad from hospital to airport to airplane. I asked her if she thought dad might be able to walk on his own again. She paused before saying, "It's hard to say. The wheelchair is probably the safest place for him. The pill mix up in the beginning really set him back."
You may recall the post about the continual pill mess up in the Sinemet dosage as described in More Disappointment. Where I had to tell the hospital three times about the correct Sinemet dose and time until they got it straightened out. And how dad went from sitting up eating his dinner on the first two nights after he had been admitted, to being bedridden for days on end because he was receiving the Sinemet dose three times a day, instead of four. How they gave him quick release Sinemet instead of slow release Sinemet.
I had taken care of dad for three years and we managed fairly well. Now the hospital undid in three days what I had worked on so hard for for three years... that the Sinemet be on time, every time. I hired nursing support to come in and assist dad once he started to struggle with it on his own. I have the right to be sad over everything dad has had to put up with in that hospital. I cannot wait to get him out of there... only one week to go.
On that front, he is improving with each day. In chatting with him today, he commented that he had really wanted to go shopping for some new clothes. (Shopping... did someone say shopping!?) I told him he did have some new clothes... I had ordered a few things a while ago. I was saving them for him at home so he wouldn't have them ruined in the hospital. I told him I have his outfit ready and waiting to go at his place... it may not be the suit he first travelled in when he left Australia... but it is clean and it matches! His clothes are probably a bit too big... but that cannot be helped for now. We will have to do some more shopping in Sydney. There is far too much going on now to be messing around, shopping for clothes. (Shopping for the elderly holds none of the joy that it does for oneself.) I also asked him if he wanted me to pack his Aussie hat, to which he replied a hearty, "Yes!"
I walked in the door a short time ago from a busy day working on all the details that are involved with an international move times two. I feel sad and cannot shake the feeling. Slowly, I am recalling a conversation I had with someone at the hospital this afternoon. We were discussing how to transport/transfer dad from hospital to airport to airplane. I asked her if she thought dad might be able to walk on his own again. She paused before saying, "It's hard to say. The wheelchair is probably the safest place for him. The pill mix up in the beginning really set him back."
You may recall the post about the continual pill mess up in the Sinemet dosage as described in More Disappointment. Where I had to tell the hospital three times about the correct Sinemet dose and time until they got it straightened out. And how dad went from sitting up eating his dinner on the first two nights after he had been admitted, to being bedridden for days on end because he was receiving the Sinemet dose three times a day, instead of four. How they gave him quick release Sinemet instead of slow release Sinemet.
I had taken care of dad for three years and we managed fairly well. Now the hospital undid in three days what I had worked on so hard for for three years... that the Sinemet be on time, every time. I hired nursing support to come in and assist dad once he started to struggle with it on his own. I have the right to be sad over everything dad has had to put up with in that hospital. I cannot wait to get him out of there... only one week to go.
On that front, he is improving with each day. In chatting with him today, he commented that he had really wanted to go shopping for some new clothes. (Shopping... did someone say shopping!?) I told him he did have some new clothes... I had ordered a few things a while ago. I was saving them for him at home so he wouldn't have them ruined in the hospital. I told him I have his outfit ready and waiting to go at his place... it may not be the suit he first travelled in when he left Australia... but it is clean and it matches! His clothes are probably a bit too big... but that cannot be helped for now. We will have to do some more shopping in Sydney. There is far too much going on now to be messing around, shopping for clothes. (Shopping for the elderly holds none of the joy that it does for oneself.) I also asked him if he wanted me to pack his Aussie hat, to which he replied a hearty, "Yes!"
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Summons
Friday, October 21, 2011
Being summoned to the doctor's office is not unlike being summoned to the principal's office. I was told at the hospital that dad's doctor wanted to talk to me. Uh oh. I booked the appointment for the visit, and then proceeded to worry for days on end. (Of course.) Waiting in the waiting room only made matters worse... now there was additional time to sit and really think, and worry and panic some more. By the time I was taken into the doctor's office, I was in a right state of worry. But I got to sit there and worry and panic some more. By the time the doctor walked in, I was pacing the floors and trying not to tidy up his office!
My worry and panic were in vain. The doctor and I are dad's biggest advocates. (I secretly knew that, and tried to reassure myself in that regard, but the negative overtook the positive as usual.) We want what is best for dad, and we both see the whole picture... not just what is happening at the hospital. Dad is fine to travel... meat pies, here we come!
Being summoned to the doctor's office is not unlike being summoned to the principal's office. I was told at the hospital that dad's doctor wanted to talk to me. Uh oh. I booked the appointment for the visit, and then proceeded to worry for days on end. (Of course.) Waiting in the waiting room only made matters worse... now there was additional time to sit and really think, and worry and panic some more. By the time I was taken into the doctor's office, I was in a right state of worry. But I got to sit there and worry and panic some more. By the time the doctor walked in, I was pacing the floors and trying not to tidy up his office!
My worry and panic were in vain. The doctor and I are dad's biggest advocates. (I secretly knew that, and tried to reassure myself in that regard, but the negative overtook the positive as usual.) We want what is best for dad, and we both see the whole picture... not just what is happening at the hospital. Dad is fine to travel... meat pies, here we come!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Mystery Meat
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Running errands all afternoon, I did not make it to the hospital till 5.30. A quick peak into dad's room... and no dad! Quickly found him eating dinner at the nurse's station... whew! "I brought him up here to eat dinner with me," she told me. A cute, blond nurse; I am sure dad didn't mind!
I went to sit down beside him and he mentioned something about a Nanaimo bar. A quick glance over his tray revealed all the dishes full, save for one empty side plate. "Dad, did you eat your dessert first?"
Slight grin.
"Dad... you're meant to eat your meal first, then dessert." Bossy boots here...
Stare.
"What have you got there." I did a double take. What DID he have there!? Orange meatloaf pounded out flat and titled "Pork with BBQ sauce" on the menu. If you think that description sounds gross... you weren't the one eating it. What is the deal with hospital food? Come on people! These patients are sick. Probably for most, their only pleasure in life is eating. Do they have to take that away too!? It is not hard to get food right! I just do not get it. Can't they run a hospital like a high end hotel? People would feel better, sooner, get out of there quicker and ease our burdened medical system! IMHO. I digress.
"Come on dad, you've got to get some food into you, get stronger." I pleaded.
Hrumpf.
"Well, take a few bites." I managed to get three bites into him and then his mouth was shut tight. I didn't blame him. It was pretty gross. I have left some healthy snacks on his bedside table for this very reason.
I could not get over the difference in him today than yesterday. He was so much more alert. Asking me questions, wanting to go home. Not understanding why he's still in there. And why he can't go home. (Um, cuz your house is empty and it's listed for sale!) FYI... I have kept him abreast of all the details... but that silly short term memory - he just does not remember. (For example... someone visited him yesterday afternoon. The nuse told me, but he cannot for the life of him remember who it was. So if we have forgotten to say thank you to some of you for visiting, it's not that we don't care, it's that we've, well... forgotten!)
All up... a good day. But always, there in the back of my mind, is that risk of falling and breaking something. Dad does not know why he just can't get up and go for a walk. He thinks he is being kept in the wheelchair for something to do! Legs are getting stronger though... he is pulling himself by foot down the hall in the wheelchair. Determined he is... and wonders why his daughter is so pig-headed!?
Running errands all afternoon, I did not make it to the hospital till 5.30. A quick peak into dad's room... and no dad! Quickly found him eating dinner at the nurse's station... whew! "I brought him up here to eat dinner with me," she told me. A cute, blond nurse; I am sure dad didn't mind!
I went to sit down beside him and he mentioned something about a Nanaimo bar. A quick glance over his tray revealed all the dishes full, save for one empty side plate. "Dad, did you eat your dessert first?"
Slight grin.
"Dad... you're meant to eat your meal first, then dessert." Bossy boots here...
Stare.
"What have you got there." I did a double take. What DID he have there!? Orange meatloaf pounded out flat and titled "Pork with BBQ sauce" on the menu. If you think that description sounds gross... you weren't the one eating it. What is the deal with hospital food? Come on people! These patients are sick. Probably for most, their only pleasure in life is eating. Do they have to take that away too!? It is not hard to get food right! I just do not get it. Can't they run a hospital like a high end hotel? People would feel better, sooner, get out of there quicker and ease our burdened medical system! IMHO. I digress.
"Come on dad, you've got to get some food into you, get stronger." I pleaded.
Hrumpf.
"Well, take a few bites." I managed to get three bites into him and then his mouth was shut tight. I didn't blame him. It was pretty gross. I have left some healthy snacks on his bedside table for this very reason.
I could not get over the difference in him today than yesterday. He was so much more alert. Asking me questions, wanting to go home. Not understanding why he's still in there. And why he can't go home. (Um, cuz your house is empty and it's listed for sale!) FYI... I have kept him abreast of all the details... but that silly short term memory - he just does not remember. (For example... someone visited him yesterday afternoon. The nuse told me, but he cannot for the life of him remember who it was. So if we have forgotten to say thank you to some of you for visiting, it's not that we don't care, it's that we've, well... forgotten!)
All up... a good day. But always, there in the back of my mind, is that risk of falling and breaking something. Dad does not know why he just can't get up and go for a walk. He thinks he is being kept in the wheelchair for something to do! Legs are getting stronger though... he is pulling himself by foot down the hall in the wheelchair. Determined he is... and wonders why his daughter is so pig-headed!?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Inspirational Choke
Hard to believe... when I started working, there was no Internet, no email, no texting and certainly no Facebook! Everything came through on fax. On thermal paper. (There's a whole section of history lost because of the fading properties of thermal paper!) Jokes, spam, personal letters, all came through on the ole fax machine. I had a fax of this cartoon pinned to the wall over my desk for a long time. (I had to find this copy online, as the copy I had disappeared!)
I won't lie... I was most discouraged this morning (with the events of the previous day) and was ready to pack it all in. "What's the point in all this?" I asked myself. Then I received a timely, encouraging and supportive email (thank you... I think you know who you are!) ... and I remembered this funny cartoon, and it's somehow given me the boost I needed to keep moving forward.
Don't ever, EVER give up.
More Moaning
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Another night of worrying and fretting. Which is frustrating as yesterday itself was the most normal feeling day in a long time. I stopped by the hospital around 6pm, and the first thing the nurse said to me was that dad fell the previous night. He had woken up at 2am and bailed out of bed. The bed alarm had gone off, but the nurse was helping someone else and couldn't get to him in time. (Again, no injuries.) Why was I finding out about it at 6pm... 14 hours after the fact? I guess it has become so common place that there's no need to call and let me know.
I do realize that we are fortunate in Canada to not have to worry about medical bills... of all my worries, that is not one of them. Though I cannot help but feel that you get what you pay for. There has been no continuity of care. That was evident in the pill mix up. I have found myself explaining our situation over and over ... and that dad cannot fall, please ensure that he doesn't. No, our medical system is not perfect by any means, but at least we have something. I suppose.
When I arrived there last night, they were putting him to bed at 6pm. Huh? No wonder he is waking up wide awake at 2 am... he has had 8 hours of sleep and ready to get on with the day.
I have not been introduced to the social worker on this floor. After the social worker on the 4th floor reassured me there would be progress meetings with all the staff etc when I met up with her three weeks ago. I saw her once. I have not laid eyes on the social worker on the 5th floor. I have so many questions. As in... what do we do if he can't leave on the 31st (etc)! I cannot postpone my life any longer. I have given notice on my place, my bags are (mostly) packed... I am ready to go. If we have to change plans again, I hardly have any time left to shuffle things around. Again. I guess we're still at 'taking things a day at a time'. I'm getting pro at that, if nothing else.
3pm update...
Spoke with dad's OT this afternoon and she said dad is doing really well... he is walking with one hand assistance. I would not know any of this if I did not ask, as every time I visit, he has been sound asleep. 4pm on Sunday, 6pm on Monday and 1.30pm on Tuesday. I have asked the nurse to keep him awake tonight till at least 9pm... try to get him back into a regular sleep schedule. At this rate, he can babysit for all my friend's children, as that is the other segement of the population who sleep and day and play all night!
Another night of worrying and fretting. Which is frustrating as yesterday itself was the most normal feeling day in a long time. I stopped by the hospital around 6pm, and the first thing the nurse said to me was that dad fell the previous night. He had woken up at 2am and bailed out of bed. The bed alarm had gone off, but the nurse was helping someone else and couldn't get to him in time. (Again, no injuries.) Why was I finding out about it at 6pm... 14 hours after the fact? I guess it has become so common place that there's no need to call and let me know.
I do realize that we are fortunate in Canada to not have to worry about medical bills... of all my worries, that is not one of them. Though I cannot help but feel that you get what you pay for. There has been no continuity of care. That was evident in the pill mix up. I have found myself explaining our situation over and over ... and that dad cannot fall, please ensure that he doesn't. No, our medical system is not perfect by any means, but at least we have something. I suppose.
When I arrived there last night, they were putting him to bed at 6pm. Huh? No wonder he is waking up wide awake at 2 am... he has had 8 hours of sleep and ready to get on with the day.
I have not been introduced to the social worker on this floor. After the social worker on the 4th floor reassured me there would be progress meetings with all the staff etc when I met up with her three weeks ago. I saw her once. I have not laid eyes on the social worker on the 5th floor. I have so many questions. As in... what do we do if he can't leave on the 31st (etc)! I cannot postpone my life any longer. I have given notice on my place, my bags are (mostly) packed... I am ready to go. If we have to change plans again, I hardly have any time left to shuffle things around. Again. I guess we're still at 'taking things a day at a time'. I'm getting pro at that, if nothing else.
3pm update...
Spoke with dad's OT this afternoon and she said dad is doing really well... he is walking with one hand assistance. I would not know any of this if I did not ask, as every time I visit, he has been sound asleep. 4pm on Sunday, 6pm on Monday and 1.30pm on Tuesday. I have asked the nurse to keep him awake tonight till at least 9pm... try to get him back into a regular sleep schedule. At this rate, he can babysit for all my friend's children, as that is the other segement of the population who sleep and day and play all night!
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