For the last week, I have been procrastinating a little... while I do remember many details, the week after surgery is a bit fuzzy for me so I apologize in advance.
As I mentioned, the night after the surgery, I spent the night with mom in her room. If you have never spent time in a hospital, let me tell you - you don't get much sleep. It seems like someone is always coming in to give meds or take vitals. And there is always some alarm beeping. And then there was the semi-regular "Christine, help me get out of the bed so I can go to the bathroom." So on Sunday morning, I slept in a bit. As I was getting ready to head over to the hospital, I got a call. Mom was being transferred to ICC - Intermediate Critical Care. I called Dianne, and we all headed over to the hospital. This was one of the longest rides to the hospital I had to make. I didn't really hear most of the phone call. I just heard ICC. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it didn't sound good. I think I made it to the hospital in record time. I met Dianne and Larry on the 3rd floor since they told me she was moving to room 321. Apparently, we beat her there. So I went up to room 901 and caught them just as they were moving the bed out of the door.
Mom had accumulated so much stuff in her stay to date, that they needed a cart to move her belongings (to confess, some of it was mine). Mom was awake, but still did not understand what was going on. She had been asking for me, and calmed down slightly when I showed up. We all set off for room 321. It took some time to get her into the room. This was also a semi-private room, and they were moving her into the back side ("bed 2") next to the windows. The lady sharing the room had about a dozen visitors who were not happy being displaced while this happened (not that I cared). When we got in to see her, Mom thought she was in Plantation hospital (south Florida, near where I grew up). We kept telling her where she was and why. She would get frustrated at her being confused. I admit I was frustrated, too. I understood on Friday since she takes forever to come out of anesthesia (sp). I understood a bit on Saturday, too. But being over 48 hours post op, I expected my Mom back. I expected her to be in pain and have to fight with her to move about like she needed to. The doctors and nurses told me sometimes it takes a little longer after surgery for patients, especially older patients. I stayed with mom the rest of the day. I don't really remember much.
I should mention that they kept changing up her pain meds. So on Friday, it was PCA pump - push as needed only. I think it was Saturday afternoon that they changed it so that she would get a baseline amount, and still be able to push more if needed. By Monday, I think they changed from Dilotted (sp) to Morphine. When I arrived Monday afternoon, she was coming around. She seemed to know who, what, where, why and how she was. The only thing "wrong" was that she was having hallucinations. She told me and the nurse to "stop walking on your hands!" Also, she made it out of bed that day and into a chair. This was the happiest I had been in weeks. Finally, I thought, she was on her way home.
Tuesday - back to confusion. The nurse told me they changed her back to Dilotted. They were not able to get her out of bed. I asked her to ask the doctor to go back to morphine.
Wednesday - more confusion; in bed all day. That night, she was not only hallucinating, but thought Satan was pulling on her legs and trying to kill her. No matter what I did, every time the leg cuffs inflated (to help prevent blood clots), she would get really scared. I finally got permission to take the cuffs off for a little while. Again, I asked about changing the pain meds.
On Thursday, I called in the afternoon and learned she was doing well. They said she was "appropriate" (that is what they call it when you know who/where/when you are). So I headed over from work (got there just about 7:00 - shift change) expecting a good night. Instead, I walked into chaos. There were several doctors and nurses in her room, and more at the nurse's station. The day nurse was still there giving report to the night nurse. They told me they needed a few minutes before they could fill me in. I went into the room and she was very confused. She told me that she had to get me and Chris to school. When I told her she couldn't take us, she told me to call my Dad. Then she asked where Chris and Misty were. It was like being in a time machine. Meanwhile, there were all kinds of people coming in and out. Finally, they filled me in. At about 5:00 she spiked a high fever, her heart rate, BP and everything went out of whack. The extra doctors and nurses where from ICU. There was some 'debate' over how to send her to ICU. Apparently, there was some confusion prior to this point over who the primary doctor was. Dr Mazer was her hospitalist and the perceived lead. Dr Gallagher was the surgeon and the doctor who admitted her. The final call was that Gallagher was the lead and he wanted her sent to ICU under the care of the surgical critical care team since she was 6 days post op. By 9:00, they had her set up in the ICU (bed 6). I stayed a few more hours that night.
On Friday, my plan was to only work a few hours and then head to the hospital. I got a call at about noon that mom would be transferred to the step down ICU. It seems she went full circle, back to room 444. So again there was wind in my sails again. Only 15 hours in ICU, so it must not have been that bad, right. So I worked a little longer and got the hospital at about 6 pm. She was still confused, but they told me she was now on Morphine. They told me that it could take a little while for the Dilotted to clear the system. That night, she was very clingy with me. She wanted to hold my hand. She didn't want me to leave (she had a Vulcan death grip on my hand). Also, her heart rate was a little high and I guess there were some other things going on (fuzzy here) so her nurse had some other nurses in to check her out. Then Dr Giron (infectious disease) came by to examine her. He determined that she should be in isolation. By about 11 pm, she was moved to 448. It was a private room, but now you had to wear a gown and gloves while inside with her. She was still not ready for me to leave, so I decided to spend the night. They got me a reclining chair and I put it right next to her bed so I could hold her hand. We spent hours trying to get her to calm down and fall asleep. She was still not allowed to eat or drink, but was allowed ice chips. She would ask for ice chips periodically. I think we both fell asleep at about 3 am. At 4 am, I had to go potty, and moved in my chair. She had forgotten I was there and I scared her! We fell asleep again and woke when the nurse came in about 6 am. I asked Mom if it was OK if I went home for a little while. She said, "Sure, why not?" She had no memory of asking me to stay with her.
Saturday - I slept a few hours before my noon wake up call. Dianne and Micky were coming over to help me clean up the house in preparation for Mom's home coming. To tell the story right, Dianne and Micky had come over Tuesday and Thursday working on the house without me. Saturday's mission was the kitchen. We spent the whole day cleaning and organizing. Dianne is a task master! I was wiped out, so I called mom to see if she would mind if I didn't go over that night. Even if she did want me to come over, she said it was a good idea for me to get a night of actual rest.
And then, in a moment of deja vu, as I was getting ready to head over to the hospital Sunday, I got the call... Mom was moving back to ICU.
This is all I can handle for today.
As I mentioned, the night after the surgery, I spent the night with mom in her room. If you have never spent time in a hospital, let me tell you - you don't get much sleep. It seems like someone is always coming in to give meds or take vitals. And there is always some alarm beeping. And then there was the semi-regular "Christine, help me get out of the bed so I can go to the bathroom." So on Sunday morning, I slept in a bit. As I was getting ready to head over to the hospital, I got a call. Mom was being transferred to ICC - Intermediate Critical Care. I called Dianne, and we all headed over to the hospital. This was one of the longest rides to the hospital I had to make. I didn't really hear most of the phone call. I just heard ICC. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it didn't sound good. I think I made it to the hospital in record time. I met Dianne and Larry on the 3rd floor since they told me she was moving to room 321. Apparently, we beat her there. So I went up to room 901 and caught them just as they were moving the bed out of the door.
Mom had accumulated so much stuff in her stay to date, that they needed a cart to move her belongings (to confess, some of it was mine). Mom was awake, but still did not understand what was going on. She had been asking for me, and calmed down slightly when I showed up. We all set off for room 321. It took some time to get her into the room. This was also a semi-private room, and they were moving her into the back side ("bed 2") next to the windows. The lady sharing the room had about a dozen visitors who were not happy being displaced while this happened (not that I cared). When we got in to see her, Mom thought she was in Plantation hospital (south Florida, near where I grew up). We kept telling her where she was and why. She would get frustrated at her being confused. I admit I was frustrated, too. I understood on Friday since she takes forever to come out of anesthesia (sp). I understood a bit on Saturday, too. But being over 48 hours post op, I expected my Mom back. I expected her to be in pain and have to fight with her to move about like she needed to. The doctors and nurses told me sometimes it takes a little longer after surgery for patients, especially older patients. I stayed with mom the rest of the day. I don't really remember much.
I should mention that they kept changing up her pain meds. So on Friday, it was PCA pump - push as needed only. I think it was Saturday afternoon that they changed it so that she would get a baseline amount, and still be able to push more if needed. By Monday, I think they changed from Dilotted (sp) to Morphine. When I arrived Monday afternoon, she was coming around. She seemed to know who, what, where, why and how she was. The only thing "wrong" was that she was having hallucinations. She told me and the nurse to "stop walking on your hands!" Also, she made it out of bed that day and into a chair. This was the happiest I had been in weeks. Finally, I thought, she was on her way home.
Tuesday - back to confusion. The nurse told me they changed her back to Dilotted. They were not able to get her out of bed. I asked her to ask the doctor to go back to morphine.
Wednesday - more confusion; in bed all day. That night, she was not only hallucinating, but thought Satan was pulling on her legs and trying to kill her. No matter what I did, every time the leg cuffs inflated (to help prevent blood clots), she would get really scared. I finally got permission to take the cuffs off for a little while. Again, I asked about changing the pain meds.
On Thursday, I called in the afternoon and learned she was doing well. They said she was "appropriate" (that is what they call it when you know who/where/when you are). So I headed over from work (got there just about 7:00 - shift change) expecting a good night. Instead, I walked into chaos. There were several doctors and nurses in her room, and more at the nurse's station. The day nurse was still there giving report to the night nurse. They told me they needed a few minutes before they could fill me in. I went into the room and she was very confused. She told me that she had to get me and Chris to school. When I told her she couldn't take us, she told me to call my Dad. Then she asked where Chris and Misty were. It was like being in a time machine. Meanwhile, there were all kinds of people coming in and out. Finally, they filled me in. At about 5:00 she spiked a high fever, her heart rate, BP and everything went out of whack. The extra doctors and nurses where from ICU. There was some 'debate' over how to send her to ICU. Apparently, there was some confusion prior to this point over who the primary doctor was. Dr Mazer was her hospitalist and the perceived lead. Dr Gallagher was the surgeon and the doctor who admitted her. The final call was that Gallagher was the lead and he wanted her sent to ICU under the care of the surgical critical care team since she was 6 days post op. By 9:00, they had her set up in the ICU (bed 6). I stayed a few more hours that night.
On Friday, my plan was to only work a few hours and then head to the hospital. I got a call at about noon that mom would be transferred to the step down ICU. It seems she went full circle, back to room 444. So again there was wind in my sails again. Only 15 hours in ICU, so it must not have been that bad, right. So I worked a little longer and got the hospital at about 6 pm. She was still confused, but they told me she was now on Morphine. They told me that it could take a little while for the Dilotted to clear the system. That night, she was very clingy with me. She wanted to hold my hand. She didn't want me to leave (she had a Vulcan death grip on my hand). Also, her heart rate was a little high and I guess there were some other things going on (fuzzy here) so her nurse had some other nurses in to check her out. Then Dr Giron (infectious disease) came by to examine her. He determined that she should be in isolation. By about 11 pm, she was moved to 448. It was a private room, but now you had to wear a gown and gloves while inside with her. She was still not ready for me to leave, so I decided to spend the night. They got me a reclining chair and I put it right next to her bed so I could hold her hand. We spent hours trying to get her to calm down and fall asleep. She was still not allowed to eat or drink, but was allowed ice chips. She would ask for ice chips periodically. I think we both fell asleep at about 3 am. At 4 am, I had to go potty, and moved in my chair. She had forgotten I was there and I scared her! We fell asleep again and woke when the nurse came in about 6 am. I asked Mom if it was OK if I went home for a little while. She said, "Sure, why not?" She had no memory of asking me to stay with her.
Saturday - I slept a few hours before my noon wake up call. Dianne and Micky were coming over to help me clean up the house in preparation for Mom's home coming. To tell the story right, Dianne and Micky had come over Tuesday and Thursday working on the house without me. Saturday's mission was the kitchen. We spent the whole day cleaning and organizing. Dianne is a task master! I was wiped out, so I called mom to see if she would mind if I didn't go over that night. Even if she did want me to come over, she said it was a good idea for me to get a night of actual rest.
And then, in a moment of deja vu, as I was getting ready to head over to the hospital Sunday, I got the call... Mom was moving back to ICU.
This is all I can handle for today.
.
Postnote - this picture is from our trip to Anchorage, Alaska.
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