Last night it snowed. Only an inch accumulated, but I celebated with a cup of hot Russian tea and pleasant memories. I’m sure you remember the good imes our families have had.
After almost a month in hospital after O. J.’s fall and the necessary hip surgery, we are home and far behind in our correspondence. A trip to Walmart on Sunday, December 3, wound up with his fall in the parking lot and a long stay away from home. When I had wished for an expense paid trip with meals, laundry and entertainment provided, I did not expect the answer to be at hospital. With gratitude for its availibity I must confess dissatisfaction with the hospital food and the narrow cot that I had to sleep on. Do the rooms on a cruise cost $425 a day?
We narrowly escaped a stay in a nursing home by convincing doctors, nurses, and therapists that we can manage at home. After counting the hospital staff that trooped trough our room each day and noting their specialization, I took stock of our routine.
The schedule at home is hectic. The housekeeper starts coffee and brings in the paper about 6 am. The nurse wakens O. J. checking vital signs and gives him a glass of juice. An aide then bathes, dresses and diapers the patient. The housekeeper changes the bed puts the clothing and bedding into the washer.
The dietitian prepares breakfast, determines the nutrient dense menu for the day, and makes the shopping list. The nurse transfers the patient to a wheelchair, transports him to the kitchen table and spoon feeds him.
The nurse dispenses the after breakfast medicine.
The physical therapist moves him to the living room and leads the prescribed exercises, sometimes manually moving limbs no longer controlled by the patient.
The social director sets the patient up in from of the television to listen to videos since patient can’t see while the bookkeeper handles financial affairs, mediates with Medicare, and interprets the snowstorm of insurance paperwork.
As the video ends the therapist rolls the patient into bedroom, removes wheelchair footrests, and side handles, lifts patient to stand wobbling on good leg, then pivots him next to the bed and gently lowers him to a sitting position. With arms under patient’s shoulder and knees she pivots him into prone position on the hospital bed. She tucks him in, turns on he baby monitor, and closes the blinds to darken the room.
Housekeeper takes bedclothes and pajamas out of washer put puts them in the dryer. Then she starts a load of sweat clothes for her and the patient.
Dietitian prepares food for patient and staff then sets the table for use after patient’s nap.
Housekeeper vacuums, folds and puts away laundry.(she no longer irons sweat suits or sheets.) and answers phone. Therapist reverses transporting process, and delivers patient to the table where nurse administers other medication before lunch.
The afternoon shift repeats the processes. The work is not as bad as changing hats all day long.
Ten years ago a life like his would have sounded like a prison sentence, limited and frustrating. Somehow in this challenging lifestyle there are many frustrations like answering the question, ”Who are you?” and the demand, “I want to go home” 100 times a day, and the constant weariness of 24/7 responsibility.
Yet, I find moments of pure joy when he seems to recognize me, and hours of peace going about the necessary duties, and even days of contentment simply doing a variety of jobs menial to sophisticated with all my heart. Sounds stupid, I know.
There are a few times when we have home health care professionals who make home visits following critical episodes like strokes, heart attacks or hospitalizations. I learn from them, but I also teach them. I teach LPNs to warm towels lotions, and clothing before putting them on the patient, and that they must always talk him through the procedure even when patient doesn’t seem to understand the words.
I have taught physical therapists how to devise equipment from available materials to meet the special needs of the patient. We’ve each found that my active participation in every procedure not only teaches me, but ensures the best care from paid caregivers.
Yes, I know that O. J. could die at any time. The aortic aneurysm has increased to 6.5 centimeters. We have faced the fact and discussed it and made specific legal and financial provisions. During the time we were served by Hospice when doctors had given up last year, I researched the process of preparing for death by patient and family caregivers. I share what I have learned with all I work with.
Some professional have suggested that I write magazine articles or books on subjects researched, and implemented. Somehow dissecting and reassembling information, processing it into daily case management turns a time that might be morbid into a creative triumph of the human spirit. At least it changes the location in my brain to a less subjective emotional activity and relieves my anxiety.
I have learned that the grace of God covers my shortcomings and gives me strength day by day. I'm learned about care-giving and being able to accept myself when I know that I'm sometimes cross, sometimes forgetful, and always weary. But I am here and willing and loving and also thankful for the privilege of caring for the one I love.
