NEED PRAYER NOW
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D
I asked him why he wants to sue -- so they will consider changing or to repay him for what happened?
He is angry. (How can you not be angry when nurse after nurse after nurse says, "there is absolutely no reason in this day and age for anyone to get a Stage 4 bedsore like that?" What other emotion is there when hurting that much?) His biggest fear is how much this will cost us. I've been telling him that so far we don't owe a dime, even for those silly little bills HUP is sending us now. (They gave him a chest X Ray once a week from November 22 - January 13th, and yet they sent a bill that included one $1.89 charge for one of those X Rays. They honestly nickel and dimed us to the tune of $300ish for rinky dink, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me silly stuff, because the VA wouldn't pay them as the VA's outsource for that silly stuff. I'm simply not paying it, and experience tells me the only thing that happens then is about 3-4 times a year we get a call or letter from a collection agency asking for a little less each time.) And, it looks like, if that one next-rehab is truthful, we can afford 60 days in that place, giving him five months of rehab for we-can-afford-it prices. He still wants money for pain and suffering, because he's just at the very beginning of a lot of pain and suffering. I told him it will take us years, but he's not out to gouge, so hopefully it gets settled quickly.
Does anyone know what this kind of case is called? I don't think it's malpractice... or is it? Seems to me the nurses screwed up even more than his doctors.
He gave up going to PT today. Mixed feelings here. His wheelchair is a torture device, so I can see why he'd give it up, but his bed is almost as uncomfortable, and he can't learn to stand again lying on the bed. I want to talk to him about trying PT with me there, so I can do his nagging for him, but he is in so much thing, he immediately hits with "You don't understand." True, but I can imagine and I have been in so much pain there was no other thought in my brain, and learned how to give some of it up.
It's sad that I think his nurses are weird. All along the way, nurses have asked me if I'm taking care of myself. These are the first to push me to answer honestly, and they started the sympathizing bout how tough it must be to watch him in that kind of pain. Completely different attitude then both hospital. Whoa! It's like taking to real people who think I am a real people. That's just never happened before. They're weird -- but in a good way. lol
He is angry. (How can you not be angry when nurse after nurse after nurse says, "there is absolutely no reason in this day and age for anyone to get a Stage 4 bedsore like that?" What other emotion is there when hurting that much?) His biggest fear is how much this will cost us. I've been telling him that so far we don't owe a dime, even for those silly little bills HUP is sending us now. (They gave him a chest X Ray once a week from November 22 - January 13th, and yet they sent a bill that included one $1.89 charge for one of those X Rays. They honestly nickel and dimed us to the tune of $300ish for rinky dink, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me silly stuff, because the VA wouldn't pay them as the VA's outsource for that silly stuff. I'm simply not paying it, and experience tells me the only thing that happens then is about 3-4 times a year we get a call or letter from a collection agency asking for a little less each time.) And, it looks like, if that one next-rehab is truthful, we can afford 60 days in that place, giving him five months of rehab for we-can-afford-it prices. He still wants money for pain and suffering, because he's just at the very beginning of a lot of pain and suffering. I told him it will take us years, but he's not out to gouge, so hopefully it gets settled quickly.
Does anyone know what this kind of case is called? I don't think it's malpractice... or is it? Seems to me the nurses screwed up even more than his doctors.
He gave up going to PT today. Mixed feelings here. His wheelchair is a torture device, so I can see why he'd give it up, but his bed is almost as uncomfortable, and he can't learn to stand again lying on the bed. I want to talk to him about trying PT with me there, so I can do his nagging for him, but he is in so much thing, he immediately hits with "You don't understand." True, but I can imagine and I have been in so much pain there was no other thought in my brain, and learned how to give some of it up.
It's sad that I think his nurses are weird. All along the way, nurses have asked me if I'm taking care of myself. These are the first to push me to answer honestly, and they started the sympathizing bout how tough it must be to watch him in that kind of pain. Completely different attitude then both hospital. Whoa! It's like taking to real people who think I am a real people. That's just never happened before. They're weird -- but in a good way. lol
Strictly speaking sometimes Bed sores even Grade 4 sores are unavoidable. I think you mentioned that John has diabetes. Diabetics are prone to bed sores due to vascular issues caused by the condition. A bed sore will start within two hours on pressure points if you do not or unable to move, bony parts of hips, buttocks, elbows, and heels. The only way to avoid is ensure the patient is moved every two hours also using beds with specialist matrices, even then it isn't guaranteed. Diabetic patients pressure sores are difficult to heal. Then there is treatment, they should have started with the low pressure dressing which he now has.
You are going to face a huge battle if you sue, there are clear situations where the communication has been lacking, where the care has been poor and there have been lies. You need everything in writing. Anger can be a force that keeps you going but it is also destructive.
You are going to face a huge battle if you sue, there are clear situations where the communication has been lacking, where the care has been poor and there have been lies. You need everything in writing. Anger can be a force that keeps you going but it is also destructive.
D
Well, if it was criminal neglect, I could report it to the cops.
(And, I am fluent in autocorrect auto-corrected goofs, so actually read "bedsore" when it said "bedside." lol)
The good news/bad news part is I contacted our disability attorney's office to see if they either did this kind of case or knew who did. After telling the story, the woman told me it is malpractice, but it has to be a life-time problem. She doesn't think it is.
And then the thought I've been trying to suppress came out in tears. "He's 69 years old, had a massive heart attack in November, and still cannot sit up because of that bedsore. Exactly how much life do you think he has that this ISN'T a lifetime problem?"
She's calling another lawyer who is supposed to get back to me in "24 to 48 hours." (Do lawyers work on weekends?) One big question answers if we go through with this, "How much do we owe if we lose?" I'm not really a big fan of suing, but he's living with this.
I did find out he will be in better moods some days and as-bad-as-it-gets moods other days. This is directly related to when they change the dressing on his wound. They do that on Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays. Yesterday he was in that much pain and that depressed because it was Bandage-Change Day. Tomorrow it comes again, but then he gets the weekend off.
It's still bad though. He does not believe he will ever stand again. (I reminded him he didn't think he would talk again or get the trach out, so he has been wrong about progress in the past. And, I, on the other hand, am always wrong on how fast it takes.
)
AND, its starting again. Tuesday he couldn't stand because his blood pressure lowered too much. Today the PT helped him raise it. (I didn't know drinking water raises BP.) BUT, after getting him to 130/80, the PT merely pushed his wheelchair up a small ramp to the parallel bars and hubby got very dizzy. His BP went down to something in the 9X/5X. (Who remembers the second number?) He saw the lower number go down into the 40's today. The PT thinks John needs another transfusion, but true to their incompetent abilities, his "team" at the hospital neglected any mention that he might need that, so the rehab center will need to start from scratch to investigate IF he needs that. It has taken them four days to decide it is wrong to make him sit up for 2.5 hours for a feeding four times a day, so, in their grand effort at common sense, they're now going to feed him the same amount in shorter periods of time. Let's see... four feedings at 2.5 hours per = ten hours a day. What is shorter periods more often? Wake him up to feed him more often than merely waking him up at 5 AM to start to feed him?
So now these same people are going to think out IF he needs blood. Good thing it's the weekend and they do nothing, because they're setting him up to be able to do absolutely nothing also! (And, I really do like these people. Their logic, however, escapes me.)
BUT, they don't know our determination yet. We're having a surge of hot weather. (80 degrees today.) Over the weekend it's supposed to be in the 60's and he's supposed to spend time in his wheelchair. We're up to adventuring outside. The grounds are nice (if you look just the right way. lol) I want to show him the first ree getting it's leaves and pretty tiny blue flowers carpeting the median strip between parked cars. (Like I said, if you look at them just right. lol) Might have to stop along the way, so he can get out of being dizzy, but we are hoping he goes outside without an ambulance involved in moving him. First time since November.
The good news/bad news part is I contacted our disability attorney's office to see if they either did this kind of case or knew who did. After telling the story, the woman told me it is malpractice, but it has to be a life-time problem. She doesn't think it is.
And then the thought I've been trying to suppress came out in tears. "He's 69 years old, had a massive heart attack in November, and still cannot sit up because of that bedsore. Exactly how much life do you think he has that this ISN'T a lifetime problem?"
She's calling another lawyer who is supposed to get back to me in "24 to 48 hours." (Do lawyers work on weekends?) One big question answers if we go through with this, "How much do we owe if we lose?" I'm not really a big fan of suing, but he's living with this.
I did find out he will be in better moods some days and as-bad-as-it-gets moods other days. This is directly related to when they change the dressing on his wound. They do that on Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays. Yesterday he was in that much pain and that depressed because it was Bandage-Change Day. Tomorrow it comes again, but then he gets the weekend off.
It's still bad though. He does not believe he will ever stand again. (I reminded him he didn't think he would talk again or get the trach out, so he has been wrong about progress in the past. And, I, on the other hand, am always wrong on how fast it takes.
AND, its starting again. Tuesday he couldn't stand because his blood pressure lowered too much. Today the PT helped him raise it. (I didn't know drinking water raises BP.) BUT, after getting him to 130/80, the PT merely pushed his wheelchair up a small ramp to the parallel bars and hubby got very dizzy. His BP went down to something in the 9X/5X. (Who remembers the second number?) He saw the lower number go down into the 40's today. The PT thinks John needs another transfusion, but true to their incompetent abilities, his "team" at the hospital neglected any mention that he might need that, so the rehab center will need to start from scratch to investigate IF he needs that. It has taken them four days to decide it is wrong to make him sit up for 2.5 hours for a feeding four times a day, so, in their grand effort at common sense, they're now going to feed him the same amount in shorter periods of time. Let's see... four feedings at 2.5 hours per = ten hours a day. What is shorter periods more often? Wake him up to feed him more often than merely waking him up at 5 AM to start to feed him?
So now these same people are going to think out IF he needs blood. Good thing it's the weekend and they do nothing, because they're setting him up to be able to do absolutely nothing also! (And, I really do like these people. Their logic, however, escapes me.)
BUT, they don't know our determination yet. We're having a surge of hot weather. (80 degrees today.) Over the weekend it's supposed to be in the 60's and he's supposed to spend time in his wheelchair. We're up to adventuring outside. The grounds are nice (if you look just the right way. lol) I want to show him the first ree getting it's leaves and pretty tiny blue flowers carpeting the median strip between parked cars. (Like I said, if you look at them just right. lol) Might have to stop along the way, so he can get out of being dizzy, but we are hoping he goes outside without an ambulance involved in moving him. First time since November.
D
On my side of all this, I can use prayers too. STILL disabled. (I keep thinking no one believes this simply because I have to do so much, so I seem abled.)
My week. Rehab needed him to have his own clothes on Monday, plus he wanted the usual personal grooming aids, (electric razor, real razor, deodorant, shampoo etc.), because he WOULD take a shower there quickly. (Even told me he would be put in the shower with the lift, so we got all kinds of excited he was finally going to get that shower he longs for.) So, I rushed around the house trying to get everything on his list and got it to him. (Me carrying two bags down a long hallway.)
I've been holding my breath driving the car, knowing it needed airs in the tires (someone stole our air gauge when they robbed our car of a whole $2 in quarters a while ago, but I didn't know they stole the gauge too, until I needed it. lol), wiper blades, and a tuneup since it stalled at a red light, but I haven't had time, so made it. I called on Tuesday to drop it off, knowing they wouldn't fix it until either today or tomorrow. And then Wednesday I had to go into Center City (Philly's business district) to see my pain specialist. (Praise God! He upped my dose for two months, which he doesn't do, but wasn't expecting to hear hubby just got out of the hospital into rehab two months after hearing hubby had a heart attack two months earlier. All I need is that two months, thinking this will smooth out more by then.) And took a bus to see the pain specialist, then one to John, and then supposedly two to come home. But, little did I know, after walking half a mile (with a choice of going two different directions, and I made the bad choice), to the bus stop there was a detour notice for that bus, so I was supposed to walk further to catch it. Fortunately, it's right next to the taxi queue for HUP visitors, so took a taxi home, but we were held up by road work on the Expressway. (Sitting in vehicles kills me.) Got home too tired to make a good dinner, so made a rush dinner.
Then waited around today until noon to find out if they fixed my car. (They did! Yippee!) But, the bus I was waiting for decided not to run, so waited 20 minutes for an every-10-minutes bus. Then had to wait for some idiot to drive OFF the ENTRANCE to the expressway before heading to the parking lot called the expressway, because they were doing road work on this side today. Saw John, only to find out he never got that shower, but he HAS to have clothes that fit now, after being told they could be too big and after they gave him pajamas earlier in the week (but STILL can't tell me what size he is), so he gave me the sweats that did fit (he gave to me years ago because they were too small, but I couldn't wear them, because elastic around the waist kills my waist), except they have an elastic band at the bottom, so he can't wear them with his foley, and he NEEDS (once again), clothes to wear. They fit him though. He's a size XL! Whoa! I've never known him as an XL, and I've known him at his proper weight.
So, I was going to go to our Walmart to pick him up some (because, hey! He's now in sizes WalMart carries again. Cool!) tomorrow morning and then go visit him, but got the call tonight that my chair is coming tomorrow morning.
Eek! The chair! The chair I've been waiting to afford after my old one broke last year, and finally bought it a week ago last Wednesday, and it was supposed to be delivered last Saturday, but then last Thursday suddenly he was going to rehab, so I had three days to find him one, so canceled it until either this Friday or Saturday -- I thought Saturday -- giving me time to clean up the living room, but never got that time and it's coming tomorrow between 9-12 and I have to have a space cleared to put it in. (Not going to happen. The salesman said I could pay the delivery people $10 to move this hunk of junk to my sidewalk, because I cannot physically move it.) So, once again utterly exhausted, don't have time to get my stuff done, (got the prescription, can't get it filled until I have time), and I'm running on empty again.
Utterly, utterly exhausted, so could use prayers.
And guess who isn't getting his clothes tomorrow. (I'd feel bad if he really did get that shower or if they had used any of the clothes I did send so far.)
My week. Rehab needed him to have his own clothes on Monday, plus he wanted the usual personal grooming aids, (electric razor, real razor, deodorant, shampoo etc.), because he WOULD take a shower there quickly. (Even told me he would be put in the shower with the lift, so we got all kinds of excited he was finally going to get that shower he longs for.) So, I rushed around the house trying to get everything on his list and got it to him. (Me carrying two bags down a long hallway.)
I've been holding my breath driving the car, knowing it needed airs in the tires (someone stole our air gauge when they robbed our car of a whole $2 in quarters a while ago, but I didn't know they stole the gauge too, until I needed it. lol), wiper blades, and a tuneup since it stalled at a red light, but I haven't had time, so made it. I called on Tuesday to drop it off, knowing they wouldn't fix it until either today or tomorrow. And then Wednesday I had to go into Center City (Philly's business district) to see my pain specialist. (Praise God! He upped my dose for two months, which he doesn't do, but wasn't expecting to hear hubby just got out of the hospital into rehab two months after hearing hubby had a heart attack two months earlier. All I need is that two months, thinking this will smooth out more by then.) And took a bus to see the pain specialist, then one to John, and then supposedly two to come home. But, little did I know, after walking half a mile (with a choice of going two different directions, and I made the bad choice), to the bus stop there was a detour notice for that bus, so I was supposed to walk further to catch it. Fortunately, it's right next to the taxi queue for HUP visitors, so took a taxi home, but we were held up by road work on the Expressway. (Sitting in vehicles kills me.) Got home too tired to make a good dinner, so made a rush dinner.
Then waited around today until noon to find out if they fixed my car. (They did! Yippee!) But, the bus I was waiting for decided not to run, so waited 20 minutes for an every-10-minutes bus. Then had to wait for some idiot to drive OFF the ENTRANCE to the expressway before heading to the parking lot called the expressway, because they were doing road work on this side today. Saw John, only to find out he never got that shower, but he HAS to have clothes that fit now, after being told they could be too big and after they gave him pajamas earlier in the week (but STILL can't tell me what size he is), so he gave me the sweats that did fit (he gave to me years ago because they were too small, but I couldn't wear them, because elastic around the waist kills my waist), except they have an elastic band at the bottom, so he can't wear them with his foley, and he NEEDS (once again), clothes to wear. They fit him though. He's a size XL! Whoa! I've never known him as an XL, and I've known him at his proper weight.
So, I was going to go to our Walmart to pick him up some (because, hey! He's now in sizes WalMart carries again. Cool!) tomorrow morning and then go visit him, but got the call tonight that my chair is coming tomorrow morning.
Eek! The chair! The chair I've been waiting to afford after my old one broke last year, and finally bought it a week ago last Wednesday, and it was supposed to be delivered last Saturday, but then last Thursday suddenly he was going to rehab, so I had three days to find him one, so canceled it until either this Friday or Saturday -- I thought Saturday -- giving me time to clean up the living room, but never got that time and it's coming tomorrow between 9-12 and I have to have a space cleared to put it in. (Not going to happen. The salesman said I could pay the delivery people $10 to move this hunk of junk to my sidewalk, because I cannot physically move it.) So, once again utterly exhausted, don't have time to get my stuff done, (got the prescription, can't get it filled until I have time), and I'm running on empty again.
Utterly, utterly exhausted, so could use prayers.
And guess who isn't getting his clothes tomorrow. (I'd feel bad if he really did get that shower or if they had used any of the clothes I did send so far.)
A
Have you reached out to your church family for help? I would be so over there helping you move the chair or giving you a lift to the hospital if I lived closer. I know our church has a program for the elderly to ask for help and we have a whole team of volunteers who do yard work, paint rooms, give rides, etc.either way, will continue to pray that God blesses your situation and He gives you hope, joy and peace........
Thought about saying strength but that might work like patience where you get trials and tests to build it up.
Thought about saying strength but that might work like patience where you get trials and tests to build it up.
IF the hospital were doing it's job properly, John WOULD NOT have grade 4 bedsores (or ANY at all), he WOULD be able to eat solid food, he WOULD NOT still be in hospital and he WOULD be home by now. I know he had a massive heart attack but the way he's being taken care of is atrocious. This is definitely malpractice, or severe neglect at the very least. Those people are NOT doing their job right, nor are they giving John adequate, satisfactory, healthy care. EVERYTHING they do seems to set him back.
totally agree, BL...
hubby's Mother was given-up to die by the hospital after a severe-stroke and other complications -
not only by 'them', but also by 'hers'...
all except for her beloved only son, the youngest child with several older-sisters who were all real busy -
but were more than capable of nursing/caring for her and they well had the means to do so -
you know, the ones that through childhood and way into adulthood, always went to momma
when they needed/wanted something, knowing that she would never let them down or at best,
find some way to make everything better.....
from the very start, we automatically knew about 'bed-sores' from being volunteers in Nursing Homes
for several years, this is ALWAYS-TOP-PRIORITY' to try and heal in a hurry ...
because, as Miri and Ariel and Blue has stated, in an institutional-setting, there would never be an 'excuse'
for something so terrible to happen to an already sick or ailing person..
in the time that Hubby and I were blessed with the privilege to love and nurse and care for his Mother,
she never acquired a bed-sore, and the deep wounds that she came home with, which we were told
would never heal, well, guess our Heavenly Father really does know best, for with the knowledge
that he lead us to through a wonderful Book of Natural Healing Remedies, those wounds were completely healed.....
hubby's Mother was given-up to die by the hospital after a severe-stroke and other complications -
not only by 'them', but also by 'hers'...
all except for her beloved only son, the youngest child with several older-sisters who were all real busy -
but were more than capable of nursing/caring for her and they well had the means to do so -
you know, the ones that through childhood and way into adulthood, always went to momma
when they needed/wanted something, knowing that she would never let them down or at best,
find some way to make everything better.....
from the very start, we automatically knew about 'bed-sores' from being volunteers in Nursing Homes
for several years, this is ALWAYS-TOP-PRIORITY' to try and heal in a hurry ...
because, as Miri and Ariel and Blue has stated, in an institutional-setting, there would never be an 'excuse'
for something so terrible to happen to an already sick or ailing person..
in the time that Hubby and I were blessed with the privilege to love and nurse and care for his Mother,
she never acquired a bed-sore, and the deep wounds that she came home with, which we were told
would never heal, well, guess our Heavenly Father really does know best, for with the knowledge
that he lead us to through a wonderful Book of Natural Healing Remedies, those wounds were completely healed.....
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M
Lynn still praying for you both and for John to heal.
I know quoting scripture is sometimes the last thing a person wants
when they are upset, but .... maybe....just possibly the following song
might help, although I'm not sure about the birds! But hey if God
cares about the birds you can be sure he cares about you and John.
Bless you both.
[video=youtube_share;1_qG1GqFiKE]http://youtu.be/1_qG1GqFiKE[/video]
Psalm 46:1-11 NKJV
[1] God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.
[2] Therefore we will not fear, Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
[3] Though its waters roar and be troubled, Though the mountains
shake with its swelling. Selah [
4] There is a river whose streams shall make glad the city of God,
The holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High.
[5] God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved; God shall
help her, just at the break of dawn.
[6] The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved; He uttered
His voice, the earth melted.
[7] The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah [
8] Come, behold the works of the LORD, Who has made desolations
in the earth.
[9] He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; He breaks the
bow and cuts the spear in two; He burns the chariot in the fire.
[10] Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the
nations, I will be exalted in the earth!
[11] The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah
I know quoting scripture is sometimes the last thing a person wants
when they are upset, but .... maybe....just possibly the following song
might help, although I'm not sure about the birds! But hey if God
cares about the birds you can be sure he cares about you and John.
Bless you both.
[video=youtube_share;1_qG1GqFiKE]http://youtu.be/1_qG1GqFiKE[/video]
Psalm 46:1-11 NKJV
[1] God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.
[2] Therefore we will not fear, Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
[3] Though its waters roar and be troubled, Though the mountains
shake with its swelling. Selah [
4] There is a river whose streams shall make glad the city of God,
The holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High.
[5] God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved; God shall
help her, just at the break of dawn.
[6] The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved; He uttered
His voice, the earth melted.
[7] The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah [
8] Come, behold the works of the LORD, Who has made desolations
in the earth.
[9] He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; He breaks the
bow and cuts the spear in two; He burns the chariot in the fire.
[10] Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the
nations, I will be exalted in the earth!
[11] The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah
D
Living room cleaned before 8 AM.
Chair came at 10:30.
Hubby called at 10:35 to tell me he stood again. (The second time he's stood, and it's been nine days since the last time, so we are relieved and excited again.)
I went to visit him, but half the visit was waiting for his wound packing to be redone, so it wasn't quite what I had in mind.
Still, good day!
Chair came at 10:30.
Hubby called at 10:35 to tell me he stood again. (The second time he's stood, and it's been nine days since the last time, so we are relieved and excited again.)
I went to visit him, but half the visit was waiting for his wound packing to be redone, so it wasn't quite what I had in mind.
Still, good day!
D
Actually, not so true.
He's not in the hospital. He's in rehab. (There's a difference between being a patient and being a resident.)
Had they turned him right constantly, (and I know they turned him every two hours originally at least), he would have and did develop one bedsore that no one would have caught unless they were molesting him too. (Not to be too graphic, but that one can only develop on a man and is caused by friction and sweat. There are some parts of our body that sweat if we don't move enough. Fortunately, because he couldn't use a bedpan, they did see it and dealt with the problem. John doesn't remember that one.)
And if he never developed any bedsores, (which is like wondering what would have happened if Adam and Eve never ate the fruit -- something interesting to wonder, but serves no purpose because both did happen), he'd be closer to coming home, but there's no way he would be home yet. He lost ALL mobility. Hard to visualize unless you see it. In that, both pinkies are useless still, and the ring fingers are still pretty useless. To drink out of a cup, he has to aim his hand so his bottom two fingers are below it. Otherwise, those useless (for now) fingers would push the cup out of the useful fingers and spill. Even now, he cannot raise his legs up in this position ^, like most of us would naturally do, if we were stuck in bed. He doesn't have the strength to push his wheelchair, if he had the proper wheels to push his wheelchair. He really is quite weak still. I just prefer seeing what he is gaining vs. seeing what is still missing. So the only difference if he never had the bedsores is he would be eating (albeit making a mess while eating) and rolling around in the rehab. Not being home yet.
And now that he is in rehab, this staff does their jobs 98% of the time... and then some. (Props that they do more than their jobs, since they take the time to talk to him too. Every day stuff. Not always medical stuff, so they treat him like a new friend.)
Sometimes the doing their jobs is the problem. For instance, I know he can eat, but since he failed his swallow test a month ago, he has to take the next step in the regulations of their jobs. The regulation says he has to do that test in their lab with that Xray equipment, because that is the rule. Common sense says he can swallow, but they can't use common sense because of the exact description of the job.
He's not in the hospital. He's in rehab. (There's a difference between being a patient and being a resident.)
Had they turned him right constantly, (and I know they turned him every two hours originally at least), he would have and did develop one bedsore that no one would have caught unless they were molesting him too. (Not to be too graphic, but that one can only develop on a man and is caused by friction and sweat. There are some parts of our body that sweat if we don't move enough. Fortunately, because he couldn't use a bedpan, they did see it and dealt with the problem. John doesn't remember that one.)
And if he never developed any bedsores, (which is like wondering what would have happened if Adam and Eve never ate the fruit -- something interesting to wonder, but serves no purpose because both did happen), he'd be closer to coming home, but there's no way he would be home yet. He lost ALL mobility. Hard to visualize unless you see it. In that, both pinkies are useless still, and the ring fingers are still pretty useless. To drink out of a cup, he has to aim his hand so his bottom two fingers are below it. Otherwise, those useless (for now) fingers would push the cup out of the useful fingers and spill. Even now, he cannot raise his legs up in this position ^, like most of us would naturally do, if we were stuck in bed. He doesn't have the strength to push his wheelchair, if he had the proper wheels to push his wheelchair. He really is quite weak still. I just prefer seeing what he is gaining vs. seeing what is still missing. So the only difference if he never had the bedsores is he would be eating (albeit making a mess while eating) and rolling around in the rehab. Not being home yet.
And now that he is in rehab, this staff does their jobs 98% of the time... and then some. (Props that they do more than their jobs, since they take the time to talk to him too. Every day stuff. Not always medical stuff, so they treat him like a new friend.)
Sometimes the doing their jobs is the problem. For instance, I know he can eat, but since he failed his swallow test a month ago, he has to take the next step in the regulations of their jobs. The regulation says he has to do that test in their lab with that Xray equipment, because that is the rule. Common sense says he can swallow, but they can't use common sense because of the exact description of the job.
D
Nature Healing Remedies? Honey? Did you know they use honey in hospitals now. I think of you every time I see his tube of honey. My mind thinks, "OldThenNew tested and OldthenNew approved." lol
The two things that bother me about how they're treating the bedsore are:
1. He had it since some time in December, and they've been treating it ever since, but the covering would not leave on its own, so they just had to pick the very afternoon the speech therapist was coming to test him to surgically remove that covering? If they had done it the next day, John would be eating now! Because they wouldn't wait for even three hours, he cannot eat now.
2. He braced for that surgery. He consented to that surgery. No one -- absolutely no one -- told him they didn't finish the first time (which tells me they didn't have enough time because they chose late in the day grrrrrrrrr!) so he had to have another surgery the next week. Not only were we never told that, they didn't even tell John why they were taking him out of his room. Nothing like figuring it out after being rolled into OR and meeting the same people you met the week before to tell you you're having surgery NOW! They told him they would have to debride his other "cheek," so we spent a week thinking he had two bedsores -- one per cheek. Ends up, no, same bedsore but one week was the right side of it and the next week was the left side. He's in the OR about to get a wound so deep it goes into his bone uncovered. That means it will hurt like crazy for weeks, maybe even months. Why stretch it out by another week? And why stop him from eating because a bedsore that came sometime in December has to be fixed at the end of February?
Three hours! That's all he needed and he could be eating now, but noooooooooooo, their lives or more important then if some dude wants to eat again after three months of not eating. What's another 2-3 months of not eating to them?
(Rant over... for now.)
The two things that bother me about how they're treating the bedsore are:
1. He had it since some time in December, and they've been treating it ever since, but the covering would not leave on its own, so they just had to pick the very afternoon the speech therapist was coming to test him to surgically remove that covering? If they had done it the next day, John would be eating now! Because they wouldn't wait for even three hours, he cannot eat now.
2. He braced for that surgery. He consented to that surgery. No one -- absolutely no one -- told him they didn't finish the first time (which tells me they didn't have enough time because they chose late in the day grrrrrrrrr!) so he had to have another surgery the next week. Not only were we never told that, they didn't even tell John why they were taking him out of his room. Nothing like figuring it out after being rolled into OR and meeting the same people you met the week before to tell you you're having surgery NOW! They told him they would have to debride his other "cheek," so we spent a week thinking he had two bedsores -- one per cheek. Ends up, no, same bedsore but one week was the right side of it and the next week was the left side. He's in the OR about to get a wound so deep it goes into his bone uncovered. That means it will hurt like crazy for weeks, maybe even months. Why stretch it out by another week? And why stop him from eating because a bedsore that came sometime in December has to be fixed at the end of February?
Three hours! That's all he needed and he could be eating now, but noooooooooooo, their lives or more important then if some dude wants to eat again after three months of not eating. What's another 2-3 months of not eating to them?
(Rant over... for now.)
D
Remember my bird stories? Seeing house wrens at HUP, and when I herded pigeons to give the wrens their food? That's the same species of birds as in the video. (Same. Not close kin to the British version, like our robins.) They weren't native to America, but we have them like Australia has rabbits. (The pigeons aren't native either. lol) So, yeah, even the visual worked for me. I love watching those birds, although the video didn't catch their pick-pocketing ways. (Give a fairly large piece of bread to them and one will take it, followed by 3-5 trying to steal it from that one bird, rather than to go to the source and get their own piece of bread. lol)
It's very hard to remember that God can melt an earth when I'm just trying to sweep a floor, or have a moment of peace alone with John. I get that for the big stuff --
"John had a heart attack! HELP, God. Oh please, just help."
"Done."
"John has pneumonia, Lord. All is lost unless you step in."
"Done."
"They aren't taking good enough care of him, Lord. What do I do?"
"You just did. You gave it to me. I'm taking care of him."
"But, Lord, I wanna... and then I wanna..." (and then I run around in circles not even remembering what I wanna.)
A heavy exhaustion takes over and I can do nothing but sleep a few hours. That's the part where I forget God just told me, yet again, "Done."
Meanwhile, some parasitic, means-very-little, invasive birds get a free handout.
And I forget. I AM that bird always to God. And he knows them as well as he knows me. And he loves them. And he loves me. And he loves John. Not for who we are, but by his will.
But melt an earth? I just wanna...
It's very hard to remember that God can melt an earth when I'm just trying to sweep a floor, or have a moment of peace alone with John. I get that for the big stuff --
"John had a heart attack! HELP, God. Oh please, just help."
"Done."
"John has pneumonia, Lord. All is lost unless you step in."
"Done."
"They aren't taking good enough care of him, Lord. What do I do?"
"You just did. You gave it to me. I'm taking care of him."
"But, Lord, I wanna... and then I wanna..." (and then I run around in circles not even remembering what I wanna.)
A heavy exhaustion takes over and I can do nothing but sleep a few hours. That's the part where I forget God just told me, yet again, "Done."
Meanwhile, some parasitic, means-very-little, invasive birds get a free handout.
And I forget. I AM that bird always to God. And he knows them as well as he knows me. And he loves them. And he loves me. And he loves John. Not for who we are, but by his will.
But melt an earth? I just wanna...
D
I really was settling into not worrying about John being sick anymore. He wasn't a patient. He was a resident. He needed to get stronger, and he needed his bedside to heal, but no diseases were affecting him, no failures, no new problems. It was actually weird when none of that was happening after all this time, but I preferred it, especially knowing it would get better and better from here on out.
Well, that's over again, for now. John's blood pressure tanked. And his blood count is in the high 500's. (Still don't know what that means, but his PT told him when the hospital says 700 is acceptable, they say that about an active person, and John can't be active yet, so even 700 is dangerously low.) Oh, oh, oh! And if that's not enough, we just learned something his doctor in the hospital didn't tell him THREE WEEKS AGO! Remember his endoscopy, colonoscopy, and the camera going all the way through his intestines? It found something significant! A duodenal ulcer! That's the freaking bleeder!
How do I know? Because he has been vomiting up his food for the last day so irritated it!
So, he's going back into the hospital by ER, and will be staying there until his blood is really controlled. (They will save his bed in the rehab for 30 days.)
There are four units he might stay in while in the hospital, depending on where there's a free bed. Please pray he doesn't go back to the hellhole he was in the last time. Yes, I realize they might all be hellholes, but it's guaranteed that unit IS a hellhole and it is unknown if the others are, so anywhere but there.
I'm relieved a little though. The rehab has been waking him up at anywhere between 3:30 (hey, if you don't change the clocks for daylight savings, you know it's 3:30, not 4:30 the instant you wake up, and since they made him stay up to be fed as long as usual, it really was 3:30) to 5 AM, will only give him pain meds three times a day, (and that includes waking him up to give him pain meds), and usually don't work around the issue of when the pain hits -- when they change the packing in his wound. Also, because he was nauseous every so often, the rehab decided that was caused by feeding him too fast, so they slowed it down. When he's fed, he has to sit up, which causes more pain on him tush. So, they were feeding him 10 hours per day at 2.5 hour stretches. I complained it took too long and hurt too much, so they "fixed it." Shorter rounds more often a day with the same amount of food, but a different type of food. (So? Longer than 10 hours now?)
Ends up the different food was the same food they gave him originally in the hospital that made him vomit, so now it makes him vomit more.
I'm hoping he can rest up a few days from this nonsense before going back to it. Slim hope remembering the hospital had even more nonsense, but at least it was different nonsense!
Well, that's over again, for now. John's blood pressure tanked. And his blood count is in the high 500's. (Still don't know what that means, but his PT told him when the hospital says 700 is acceptable, they say that about an active person, and John can't be active yet, so even 700 is dangerously low.) Oh, oh, oh! And if that's not enough, we just learned something his doctor in the hospital didn't tell him THREE WEEKS AGO! Remember his endoscopy, colonoscopy, and the camera going all the way through his intestines? It found something significant! A duodenal ulcer! That's the freaking bleeder!
How do I know? Because he has been vomiting up his food for the last day so irritated it!
So, he's going back into the hospital by ER, and will be staying there until his blood is really controlled. (They will save his bed in the rehab for 30 days.)
There are four units he might stay in while in the hospital, depending on where there's a free bed. Please pray he doesn't go back to the hellhole he was in the last time. Yes, I realize they might all be hellholes, but it's guaranteed that unit IS a hellhole and it is unknown if the others are, so anywhere but there.
I'm relieved a little though. The rehab has been waking him up at anywhere between 3:30 (hey, if you don't change the clocks for daylight savings, you know it's 3:30, not 4:30 the instant you wake up, and since they made him stay up to be fed as long as usual, it really was 3:30) to 5 AM, will only give him pain meds three times a day, (and that includes waking him up to give him pain meds), and usually don't work around the issue of when the pain hits -- when they change the packing in his wound. Also, because he was nauseous every so often, the rehab decided that was caused by feeding him too fast, so they slowed it down. When he's fed, he has to sit up, which causes more pain on him tush. So, they were feeding him 10 hours per day at 2.5 hour stretches. I complained it took too long and hurt too much, so they "fixed it." Shorter rounds more often a day with the same amount of food, but a different type of food. (So? Longer than 10 hours now?)
Ends up the different food was the same food they gave him originally in the hospital that made him vomit, so now it makes him vomit more.
I'm hoping he can rest up a few days from this nonsense before going back to it. Slim hope remembering the hospital had even more nonsense, but at least it was different nonsense!
Lynn,
we have been through this very same thing with ourselves, many people, family and friends and just folks
that knew we Loved and served our Lord and would do whatever we could to help them in their
particular situation...oddly enough, most chose to go with the impersonal, medical options
of strangers and of course, you must know what the results were...this is so terrible, but it appears
that most just don't really care enough in a Spiritual sense, and that after a time,
they just wanted OUT and were tired of being 'bothered'...and so, they allow the 'system' to take
owner-ship of their 'loved-ones'....
Lynn, we get that you really do LOVE your soul-mate, and dennis and I want you to know and believe
that we are willing to do anything that we are able to do to help you both become whole in the Lord's Will,
but you must know and trust that you both have to commit to doing everything that is required of you both -
if you accept our offer to bring you into our home and agree to the treatment that our Lord has taught us,
through much trial and tribulation in order to heal ourselves and others...
you both are more than welcome, may our Lord's will be done...
your friends,
dennis and joanna
we have been through this very same thing with ourselves, many people, family and friends and just folks
that knew we Loved and served our Lord and would do whatever we could to help them in their
particular situation...oddly enough, most chose to go with the impersonal, medical options
of strangers and of course, you must know what the results were...this is so terrible, but it appears
that most just don't really care enough in a Spiritual sense, and that after a time,
they just wanted OUT and were tired of being 'bothered'...and so, they allow the 'system' to take
owner-ship of their 'loved-ones'....
Lynn, we get that you really do LOVE your soul-mate, and dennis and I want you to know and believe
that we are willing to do anything that we are able to do to help you both become whole in the Lord's Will,
but you must know and trust that you both have to commit to doing everything that is required of you both -
if you accept our offer to bring you into our home and agree to the treatment that our Lord has taught us,
through much trial and tribulation in order to heal ourselves and others...
you both are more than welcome, may our Lord's will be done...
your friends,
dennis and joanna
D
Even if I could talk John into this, (and he doesn't know you so no way, no how), it still can't be done. Both disabled. The last time I drove to my brother's house I knew it would be the last time, or close to the last time. I can't travel longer than an hour and a half. If I did, I'd stop my car in the middle of the freeway to climb out because my back would hurt that bad. Not a good thing, considering I live in the Mid atlantic states. We don't have deserted freeways -- ever. Not even 2 AM on a Monday morning. John is worse than I am. He couldn't take a car ride for more than an hour.
Those were the good ole days. Now he can't sit, stand, or walk.
Those were the good ole days. Now he can't sit, stand, or walk.