So, do you remember that game called, maybe, “I spy,” that we used to play as kids, where the trick was to remember an ever-growing list of random items? “I spy a car.” “I spy a car and a tree.” “I spy a car and a tree and a log.” “I spy a car and a tree and a log and a pair of scissors.” Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…
Well, every time Dad comes home from rehab, I feel like I’ve moved onto the next round of “I spy.” Last time, it was the need to check his blood pressure before his regular morning and nighttime meds, to make sure it was high enough to warrant his Metroprolol. During his discharge today, I learned that, while he may no longer need oxygen, he does now require a nebulizer treatment three times a day (suggested at 8:30 a.m., 12:30 p.m. and 4:30 p.m., but Dad’s life outside of rehab generally doesn’t proceed according to nursing shift changes). So, we now have a new piece of electrical equipment – the little air-compressor doohickey that we pour the nebulizer medicine into – taking up residence in the living room. Also, because there’s a good chance the Plavix he has to take to keep his new stent from clotting up could also be ripping up his stomach (he’s showing signs of anemia and there was blood in his stool at the rehab center), he has to take a new stomach med 30 minutes before eating.
So, this means we have to start paying even more attention to his morning medications (already, we have to do his blood pressure before the meds, to see if the BP is high enough to warrant his Metoprolol, and then do another BP an hour later for the visiting nurses’ telemedicine department, to see what effect the Metoprolol has had). And we have to remember to give him the stomach med, again, a half hour before he eats lunch, and, yet again, a half hour before he has his evening cocktail and chips. Oh, and we’re supposed to cut out anything, like alcohol and coffee and fats, that might aggravate the stomach further. The latter is not so likely to happen.
And a new blood pressure check has been thrown into the schedule at 2:30 p.m., on top of the two checks in the morning and the last one before bedtime. Again, I doubt I’ll be driving over to the senior center during the middle of his twice-weekly poker games with the blood pressure cuff.
With all these new steps added to what seems like a childhood memory game, it’s hard not to throw myself down onto the floor to engage in a childish tantrum in reaction to these mind-numbing complications. If he’s not ready to leave care, then the powers that be shouldn’t assume that I’m ready and able to pick up all these loose ends. However, the reaction I get from nurses when I state that I work at home seems to indicate a thought that none of this should be any problem. Because, really, how much of an imposition can it be to run down from my upstairs office five times a day to ensure all meds and procedures are taken (or undertaken) on schedule, on top of the two or three visiting nurse/visiting occupational therapist/visiting home health aide appointments. Which, themselves, are on top of the two or three doctors appointments or tests I have to get Dad to every week.
At any given month of the year, week of the month, day of the week, I have between three and five outstanding work deadlines, which, up until the last few months, were enough to keep me on my toes. Now, I’m still trying to make sure each of those clients feels they are my one true love, while also keeping up with the memory game that is helping my father stay alive. Which suggests another age-telling metaphor: do any of you remember that guy spinning all the plates on the Ed Sullivan show? He’d start spinning one plate on a stick that he’d then position into a plate-spinning stick holder, then another and another, until he’d have 15 or 20 of those plates whirling at once. And then the trick became, not so simply, keeping all that centrifugal motion in motion – running madly between the poles to ensure none of the plates came crashing down.
That guy is me, right now, dodging the spinning poles in an attempt to keep the plates holding Dad’s health – and my mortgage – spinning and not crashing. Sadly, Topo Gigio, won’t be along to make everyone laugh if my plate trick fails.
March 16, 2010 at 9:38 am03
I don’t know if your financial situation would allow it, but could you possibly consider getting some part-time help to cover at least some of your responsibilities?
After a period of training, the right person would be able to give you some uninterrupted blocks of time, during which you could really focus on your work. He/she could cover medications, blood pressure checks, nebulizer treatments, shopping, errands, light housework, etc.
After one or two “flops,” we found a real gem of a person to help my parents with these things. Her presence in their home, for at least a few hours a day, gave me some peace. Even after Dad passed away, Florita stayed on until it became clear that Mom needed to be in a more secure environment because of her Alzheimer’s. Florita was a godsend.
If hiring an aide is a possibility, you’d want to be very clear about what would be expected; you’d want to invest time in training the person, especially if they are not a licensed caregiver (most home health aides are not certified to give medications by their agencies, but there are certainly many people who can do all that you ask–and sometimes more effectively–than agency people); you’d want to spend some time organizing medications and checklists every week to make sure everything is covered and done with minimal disruption.
It’s important to interview–any maybe even try out–a number of people. Sometimes the person you would least expect to be successful turns out to be the best candidate. For example, don’t hire someone who is really looking for full-time work. They’ll be gone quickly.
Just some thoughts.
March 16, 2010 at 9:38 am03
We do have a home-health aide coming in twice a week to help Dad with showers, which is great. But the problem with someone coming in to help with other tasks is that we live in a small house and I hear everything going on – someone moving around and cleaning and chatting with Dad on top of the existing tv would make me nutty, when I’m trying to concentrate on writing or doing a phone interview with an article source. And the idea of having to possibly go through several candidates before finding someone whose competence I could trust – again, while managing my own business – is just more than I can think about right now.
March 21, 2010 at 9:38 am03
Too bad we didn’t read your blog before we received our census form – and sent it right back. Two of our friends died very unexpectedly in the last three days. I wonder how many such deaths affect the census. Then, if we aren’t here on April Fool’s Day, it won’t bother us, will ita/ why did they choose April Fool’s Day anyway?
March 25, 2010 at 9:38 am03
How are things going??