humor counts

I'm still spending my days in an ICU waiting room. I think it's been 8-plus days now. For the most part, the other family members there have been thoughtful, pleasant and quiet. My brother was here for a few days and that made the time there considerably better, but when he left, things got harder. No one to give reality checks to, no one to make fun of other people, and the little tad of privacy that we had managed to claim was taken over by a very large family who needed it more. The time goes by quickly on most days. Surprisingly quickly. At 8:30am we have the first visit. Mom has been asleep for the past 3 days at that time. My visit is brief, I check with the nurse to see how the night went, I look at all the tubes, monitors and medicines, check the oxygen level on the ventilator, make sure her feet are warm, and then exit. I read the paper, crochet for awhile, and then it's 12:30 and time for the next visit. Mom has been awake for this time for the past few days, and this is the hardest one of the day. She tries to communicate, but can't. I don't know what to do to help her. She squeezes my hand and pats it but there's little expression in her face. I don't know what is really "her" and what is sedation. I don't know what she's thinking or feeling. I don't know if she's in pain, or given up, or beyond feeling much. I spend the 30 minutes trying to understand her hand gestures, rubbing her feet, and dabbing a sponge on a stick into water and putting it in her mouth. I leave in tears, unable to speak.

Then there's lunch, hopefully a doctor will find me and give me an update (usually translated into 'no change'), and then more crochet, a few phone calls, and then it's 5:30 and another visiting time. She's usually asleep and I'm guiltily relieved. Then it's time for dinner, or sometimes I just hang out more and watch TV and crochet. Then the 8:30 visit, when she's usually asleep and I check in with the night nurse for any changes, hope, glimmers of improvement. Then home. While I drive home, I call my aunt, my mother's only remaining sister, who is 87 and give her the day's update. She is sweet, encouraging and thanks me for keeping her updated.

This is hell. I don't know what to do differently. I can't do anything else. I can't continue doing normal work or Saturday errands or shopping, but I can't keep this up for much longer either. I'm exhausted. Normally, I'm not a tearful person but now I tear up if someone just asks me how she is or if I find myself thinking about what might happen in the next days or weeks.

There was one bright point today that stood out. An elderly man in the waiting room who has a terminally ill wife in the ICU started the day today by telling me about his dream last night. He dreamed that the authorities came to him and told him that he had been neglecting his two young children. He felt terrible about it and told them that he had forgotten that he had two young kids. The authorities told him that he needed to put sweet potato lined underwear on them.

We both had a much needed chuckle over that.

waiting room hell

I'm still living in hospital-world. My mother has now had two surgeries and is in intensive care, although she is slowly getting better. For the first 12 days, she was in a regular hospital room, which meant that I had use of her bathroom, a couple of chairs, and plenty of space and privacy. I could shut out most of the noise and interact only when I chose. After the second surgery, she unexpectedly had some problems that required the ICU, so I lost the room, privacy, space, and relative quiet.

Now my days are spent in a waiting room designated for those with family in the ICU. Most families stay part of the day, or are there only just prior to the 4 visiting times allowed each day. I am there much more than that, usually about 11-12 hours a day. There are no barriers to the grief, tragedy and sadness that enter the room. There is (thankfully) some humor also.

One torn up family lost their 50-something year old mother suddenly after they found her collapsed and not breathing at home. Her very young adult children were uncomprehending and the uncomprehending father was struggling to comfort the children and manage his own grief. It was really sad to hear the father explain to one of the children about how the mother wanted cremation, despite their reservations about it. The family was called into the ICU cubicle to say their goodbyes. I saw the obit in the paper today.

One of the irritating things is the people who enter the waiting room and talk loudly into cell phones to tell everyone about what has happened to uncle, or grandmother or papa and then they have loud obnoxious cell phone rings that go off every few minutes. Most follow up the news with tales of their own poor health. Yesterday I was treated to too much information regarding yellow 'places' on a woman's 'laig'. And then overhearing the conversation from her father-in-law to someone on the other end of a cell phone about how she is 'slow' and that her husband didn't know she was that way until after he had married her. He probably has a clue about it now seeing as how she apparently let him lie on the floor in a diabetic coma for a couple of days before she thought of calling her father-in-law to see if she should do something for him. I'd say the man is lucky to be alive.

This morning I was treated to a lecture from an older man to an older woman about the state of her finances. Their relationship was unknown, but I'm guessing they were brother and sister. The man repeatedly told her she needed a budget and needed to stick to it. She didn't argue or disagree, but somehow at her age I don't think she's likely to change her ways.

This evening I heard about a "saddleback bloodclot in the lung" that is plaguing a man, but I also heard about the big dinner he was able to eat so I think he's probably going to make it. I even ran into someone I know, who is there because of his 98 year old mother, who is doing pretty well and seems likely to recover.

Hopefully, my own mother will get well enough this week to go into a regular room and I can have my little bit of space back. I also miss her ability to make the best of a bad situation. I'm having some trouble doing that on my own without her.

hospital world

My mother is still ill and in the hospital. She got better, then worse, then better, and now I'm not so sure. I missed 6 days of work and returned yesterday. What a relief. Work is soooo much easier than sitting at the hospital. But, today I worked this morning, and was needed back at the hospital for the afternoon/evening. And I'm waiting on the doctor, yet again.

By and large, the nurses have been very good. Some of the younger, newer ones without confidence were a little hard to take and became easy targets for my mother's biting sarcasm. For example: "Are your legs and feet swollen?" got a reply along the lines of, "I don't know, I can't see them, you tell me." I don't envy nurses and their jobs. Hard jobs.

Pain management has been interesting. In the past Mom has had morphine after surgery, but she always complained that it gave her nightmares. This time, they used dilaudid. She can't remember the name and calls it "dilly-doo" or "diddly-doo". but it makes her much happier.

my knight

This is him in his favorite hat at the beach with spyglasses on the deck. My love.

The past few days have been a blur. My mom has been in the hospital, which means I have too. Hospital world is a parallel universe. The air is dry, the noises are way too personal and private to share but everyone does (conversations about bodily functions that aren't functioning, hacking, spitting, vomiting, crying), and many people who enter the room and use hand sanitizer like the patient is toxic waste, and the endless waiting for the doctor.

I've learned to temporarily seal off an NG tube (nasal-gastric for you neophytes), move an IV pole, reset the IV, measure pee in ml, adjust the bed, TV and lights using the bedframe controls, weigh the patient in kg or lbs while they lie in bed, and how to live without food or sleep for many many hours at a time. I've read two and a half books, crocheted 2 scarves, and leaped up out of the chair about 600 times. I've eaten hospital food, restaurant food, and no food.

But, she's getting better and may get to go home in a few days. And then so will I.

election reflection

Last night was great. Unexpectedly moving, funny, sobering, slightly drunken, sweet. At my house friends came to eat hotdogs, drink 'nutty bitches', eat dessert and watch the returns. When it was announced at 11pm that Obama had clearly won, we all cheered and were happy. As the reality of the moment set in, we became somber and thoughtful. By the time we saw the thousands of people in Grant Park, we were tearful. Obama's speech topped it off.

I like politics and my parents were always interested in politics, so I've sat through conventions and election returns all of my life. I even have a great picture of my mother dressed up as Lady Bird Johnson (whom she resembled) in the 60's for a part she played in a local play. I was jubilant when Clinton won, I was dejected and unbelieving when Reagan won, I took Carter's victory for granted as my right as a first time voter, and I was angry at W's stolen election, but none of those elections moved me like the one last night. I didn't anticipate the effect it would have on me and so many others. I completely underestimated the importance of Obama being ELECTED by a clear majority of voters. And despite a little bit of gloating, there's a tinge of sadness that H. Clinton wasn't up there, or another woman. Part of me feels that there's more women than black men and that it was OUR turn first, but then I think that maybe this is how it has felt to many black Americans for years...hopeful and a little disappointed at the same time. Hopeful that just maybe this person will be able to make some important changes and disappointed that those changes won't come faster and won't be in all the areas that need to be changed.

But mostly, I'm proud that we did it and satisfied that this is right.

Obama and the rest of the country now have a lot to live up to. For people of color there are no more excuses. A poor black man became President, so can you. For rednecks and racists, get over it or move. For his supporters, hunker down, it's not going to be a walk in the park.

And I'm really glad I don't have to look at McCain and Palin for the next four years.

woo hoo!!!!!