First of all, I want to thank God that he has allowed my husband and me to have had another year spent together. With the arrival of 2013, we faced new challenges that have made us stronger and more able to handle the obstacles He has put before us.
Let me bring you up to date a bit from my last posting in November. About a week after that posting, while tending my chickens, "herding" (if you can use that term for chickens!) them in for the night, playing "ring around the coop" trying to get a few reluctant ones to go in for the night, my foot slipped out from under me in our wonderful muddy area around the coop ~ thanks to a great deal of Oregon rain ~ & down I went. The result was that I had a sprained ankle. Not good. The ankle itself seems to have finally healed and doesn't hurt with normal usage, but the back of the ankle is still sore. It is especially hard to go down stairs ~ that movement seems to irritate it, so I still need to be careful.
Being my husband's caregiver that required me to bring in boxes of dialysate weighing 3000 ml of fluid for one size and 5000 ml for another, was a challenge with a sprained ankle. Add to that a sore leg, arm, ankle and back from the fall made me pretty pathetic! Gimping along, though, I bravely continued with the duties that I had in front of me. Of course, that slowed everything down, including Christmas shopping, grocery shopping, etc. What used to take me minutes now took me a half hour and longer.
Thanksgiving came and went with a special visit home with some members of our family that made the time go even faster and my pains seem minor. But unfortunately, our lives were not to be quiet and peaceful.
On December 8, my husband started complaining about stomach pains. Our first thought was that he had peritonitis, a common condition with peritoneal dialysis (PD) patients. However, since he'd already experienced that, he said it felt different. So the hunt was on to figure out what was causing his pain and discomfort.
When suggestions from his clinic proved unsuccessful, we were told to take him to the VA hospital emergency room. Gathering up our emergency bag and essentials in case I needed to stay overnight, we trundled on up to Portland to see what the problem was. It was around 6 pm when we arrived. What was seen on an x-ray was an intestinal obstruction of some kind. They informed us that he would need to stay the night and that they wanted to do an MRI to check more closely. At that point, there wasn't any reason for me to stay and he wanted me to go home to rest, so with a kiss and a hug, and his insistence that he didn't mind, I left to go back home.
Leaving him in the emergency room was a hard decision, since I had never left him before. Thoughts running through my mind were: Was I doing the right thing? What if something bad happened and it takes me at least 45 minutes to go back? Will he think I'm abandoning him or that I don't care for him, thinking more of myself? What willl our adult children think when they find out I left? Would they censor me or understand? Should I have insisted I stay? I knew he was in good hands and he HAD asked me to leave. He told me he would rest easier if he knew I was home with our two beloved dogs, that he worries about when we're gone. So with assurances from the doctor that they would call me immediately if he had to go into surgery or there was an emergency, I headed back home.
Early the next morning I was back up to the hospital. He looked much better, saying his pain and discomfort was gone, and I felt so relieved. He was told that an umbilical hernia he'd had repaired three years ago had reherniated and part of his intestine had slipped through the break, in effect, clamping down and closing his intenstinal tract. A doctor merely massaged the intestine back into place, but the hernia still had to be surgically repaired. So all seemed as well as could be under the circumstances.
Our children visited later in the day and were reassured that their Dad was doing okay. After a nice visit they left to continue to their destination for the day. Not long after, he was brought his dinner. So far, he hadn't had much more than liquids. I was a bit surprised at the meal they brought: chicken breast, green beans, noodles, green salad/dressing, bread, fruit and juice ~ lots of carbs for a diabetic! He took a bite of salad, a bite of chicken, a small drink and then said he really didn't have any appetitie and the pain had returned. It wasn't long when he started having problems.
Not going into detail that may turn some off, they realized that he still had a blockage somewhere and couldn't get rid of stomach contents that normal people usually can get rid of all the time. They said they would have to do a CAT scan to find out what was the problem. They put a tube in his nose to his stomach to help him keep things cleared out, since nothing could go anywhere but back up. This was turning into a very serious situation and I was very alarmed. He, however, didn't realize exactly how serious it was; he was just trying to cope.
Once they had things under control, he once again suggested I leave so I wouldn't have to drive home in the dark. He worried about that. Realizing that he would rest easier without the worry, I said goodby and headed back home again.
Upon my return the next day, there was no IV and the tube they'd inserted for his stomach was gone. When I asked him about it, he said he'd had a bad spell of claustrophobia during the night. The hospital gown had ridden up and he felt like he was strangling. He said all he knew was that he had to get out so he started pulling out the tube and IV. He successfully did so and the nurses just kept them out. From that point on, he seemed not to need them. His Nephrologist told him they wanted to keep him at the hospital until they could get him into surgery, rather than have him go home and possibly have problems, and they didn't want him to have to go through having to be admitted again. So the waiting game started.
While waiting for surgery to be scheduled, they started him on hemodialysis. He wasn't thrilled about it, but he couldn't do the peritoneal dialysis because they wanted no pressure against that ruptured hernia. We looked at it positively in that he could compare hemo with PD to see if he was, indeed, having the best treatment for his particular situation.
The first day on hemo didn't go badly and he had no problems. They always did it early in the morning, so by the time I arrived he was already well into it and I'd wait in the room for him to be brought back. The second day he told me they had a problem with the veins and his blood started clotting. What resulted was bruising so badly on his arm that it was bruised from his wrist almost to his shoulder and on the back side of his wrist. Not a good day. My heart went out to him; I felt so badly that he had to have bad things happen. But he never complained.
Each day I went up to stay with him, helping him to be comfortable if he needed it. It was very difficult because he felt pretty good and really just wanted it all to be over and go home. He did admit to me that he was very grateful I'd brought him to the hospital and I replied that I was too, because there was no way I could have handled all that happened to him in those first 24 hours or so. He might have died had we not brought him up, because of the constriction of his intestines, and by the time we or others figured out what was going on. That is a very serious situation.
Friday, a week after he'd gotten admitted and after his third hemo treatment, he had his surgery. It went well and they kept him for most of the day to be sure things were going well. At last, we could bring him home. During his stay, with the exception of one or two, all nurses and staff were wonderful and we felt he had excellent care while staying at the VA hospital. It was an opportunity for me to see what kind of care he'd get should it be necessary to go again.
For the next 6 weeks, he had to be on hemo at a local facility while he healed from surgery. That involved a new routine for us: Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays we needed to get up by 6 so he could have a decent breakfast, then go to the dialysis center for his treatment. He said it was a real ordeal because he had to sit with his arm in one position and his legs elevated, which resulted in cramping. He couldn't alleviate the cramps by walking them out, so had to endure. The cramping is a natural side effect because he was on a 3-1/2 hour treatment which is quite fast for the blood to go through the body and back again. In addition, he felt very restless, also a side effect. He said the chairs were very uncomfortable, the room was very bright and there was lots of noise, so sleep was impossible. When January rolled around, they had pushed us back one hour, so we then had to get up at 5 so he'd be at the center on time.
I bought him a portable DVD player so he could watch movies, which helped pass the time. He couldn't read because he only had one hand to use. TV was boring, so the movies seemed to do the trick. At first he got quite cold, but the more treatments he had, the less that bothered him. The only problems he had after the treatments was that he was quite tired. That was worse when they took more fluids out.
By the end of 4 weeks or so, he was really struggling to get through it. All he wanted was to get back on his PD treatments at night. It was a good experience in that he could compare the two treatments. The things he didn't like on the hemo far outweighed the things he didn't like on PD. He realized there was a lot more good on the PD than the hemo. By week 5, I was telling him "You only have 6 more treatments to go!". Then it was "You only have 2 more treatments to go!" That seemed to bouy him up to tolerate it one more time.
Finally, this last week, he got to start back on PD. Everything went smoothly. He also realized that even though the treatment increase from 10 hours to 12 hours each night, he didn't HAVE to go to bed! He could move his machine far enough over that he could be on the computer to pass the time. Now he can go to bed at a normal hour and he's been sleeping better. Also, for some reason, his machine is almost silent where before it made all kinds of noise. Don't know what happened, but we're glad, as it helps him sleep!
So with all that going on, and just doing some things I've wanted to do around the house after Christmas, I havn't been very good about keeping this blog up. What I did realize is that life is still pretty good, things can be done that keep me occupied and satisfied, and with the close call we had, I realize that taking care of my spouse is something that I enjoy doing and showing him how much I love him is part of it, by doing for him. He is very appreciative and so far, all is going well.
I hope all the spousal caregivers had a good year and can look forward to this new year with an easy heart. When I said "For better or worse, in health and in sickness, 'till death do us part", I meant it.
Happy New Year and may you have a wonderful Valentine's Day with your loved one ~ share your love and let your spouse know how much you care!
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