Post by EbonyPatriot on May 20, 2012 0:27:55 GMT -5
In the time in-between my postings, my grandfather was released ten days after he was admitted. I'm posting the complete log as I had it then, but in brief, we were not happy. They had gone from insisting on a peg tube to saying he was good to go despite the fact that his levels weren't normal; true, lower than what they were, but still too high.
I have to admit, it was nice to fit into a normal schelduge again; Sprx, in particular, had really suffered because A) As an Australian cattle dog, he literally needs a daily dose of exercise to keep him from being obnoxious B) and is clingy to his people, worst C) as a shelter dog, he's even worst and still fears we're going to abandon him.
I had been up late a few weeks and was looking forward to sleeping normally when at 6:00 AM, we were woken by a phone calling saying that my grandfather was having trouble breathing. I was scared, but we were expecting this: why, it's almost like he wasn't ready yet to leave!
We rushed to the hospital and spent the day with him. Like last time, he was terribly unresponsive and cold, with his fingers and feet turning blue. We stayed all day with him (and all day in the flipping ER), trying to wake him and keep him company. Finally, finally, my grandfather slowly first opened his eyes.
The doctor came in. Even now, I can't choke back my fury at this doctor, with his attitude of writing him off as too old to care for and still worst comments I don't want to even write here, besides noting that the doctor tried this with my uncle and I; he did not try this with my Mom, who is an RN.
As if being so quick to write off my grandfather wasn't enough, not once did he (or any other doctor) mention that he should not have gone home. Not once did any doctor even suggest he wasn't ready.
By the end of the day, my grandfather's eyes had opened and he was responding to us. I gave him some water which he eagerly drank down before I realized that he listed as nothing per mouth, or NPO, as it's called.
We spent all weekend with him, leaving only for an hour to go to church and to go to bed. He ate well but did not open his eyes.
Everyday after school I would rush over to him and help him eat his food. The problem was that he would wake up and be alert for us, but not the doctors. So I starting going before school, helping to feed him with breakfast, then leaving and coming back to help him eat. We finally had him have blended food which he ate, leaving only the carrots. (He's always had a sweet tooth).
I figured out until the last few days that the best way to help him drink the nectar thickened liquids (it has the exact consistency of saliva, I don't blame him for not liking it) was to put in the little cups they use for medicine and help him drink that way.
My grandfather's whole face would light up when I came in the room and he would kiss my hand and me. He could not talk well, but he knew us and loved us. At last, by being there early, he was awake for the doctors, who backed off of their complaints. (Indeed, my only regret is that a few days toward the end I had to finish up some projects for class and so couldn't go in early). We had a feeding tube put in to help him build up his nutrition. Like my Mom, I wasn't pleased with this turn of events: a few years he had a feeding tube but the nursing home refused to remove it until last year.
And again, they sent him despite the fact that he was discovered the previous day to have a bacteria-resistant virus, despite the fact that his back was sore and he wasn't eating well.
My grandfather's birthday is coming up soon. We had planned for a party for him, but now we don't know if he'll be able to go to it.
I'm worried a lot about him. On one hand, I'm glad he's out of the hospital. But at the same time, I think he was better treated there.
I have to admit, it was nice to fit into a normal schelduge again; Sprx, in particular, had really suffered because A) As an Australian cattle dog, he literally needs a daily dose of exercise to keep him from being obnoxious B) and is clingy to his people, worst C) as a shelter dog, he's even worst and still fears we're going to abandon him.
I had been up late a few weeks and was looking forward to sleeping normally when at 6:00 AM, we were woken by a phone calling saying that my grandfather was having trouble breathing. I was scared, but we were expecting this: why, it's almost like he wasn't ready yet to leave!
We rushed to the hospital and spent the day with him. Like last time, he was terribly unresponsive and cold, with his fingers and feet turning blue. We stayed all day with him (and all day in the flipping ER), trying to wake him and keep him company. Finally, finally, my grandfather slowly first opened his eyes.
The doctor came in. Even now, I can't choke back my fury at this doctor, with his attitude of writing him off as too old to care for and still worst comments I don't want to even write here, besides noting that the doctor tried this with my uncle and I; he did not try this with my Mom, who is an RN.
As if being so quick to write off my grandfather wasn't enough, not once did he (or any other doctor) mention that he should not have gone home. Not once did any doctor even suggest he wasn't ready.
By the end of the day, my grandfather's eyes had opened and he was responding to us. I gave him some water which he eagerly drank down before I realized that he listed as nothing per mouth, or NPO, as it's called.
We spent all weekend with him, leaving only for an hour to go to church and to go to bed. He ate well but did not open his eyes.
Everyday after school I would rush over to him and help him eat his food. The problem was that he would wake up and be alert for us, but not the doctors. So I starting going before school, helping to feed him with breakfast, then leaving and coming back to help him eat. We finally had him have blended food which he ate, leaving only the carrots. (He's always had a sweet tooth).
I figured out until the last few days that the best way to help him drink the nectar thickened liquids (it has the exact consistency of saliva, I don't blame him for not liking it) was to put in the little cups they use for medicine and help him drink that way.
My grandfather's whole face would light up when I came in the room and he would kiss my hand and me. He could not talk well, but he knew us and loved us. At last, by being there early, he was awake for the doctors, who backed off of their complaints. (Indeed, my only regret is that a few days toward the end I had to finish up some projects for class and so couldn't go in early). We had a feeding tube put in to help him build up his nutrition. Like my Mom, I wasn't pleased with this turn of events: a few years he had a feeding tube but the nursing home refused to remove it until last year.
And again, they sent him despite the fact that he was discovered the previous day to have a bacteria-resistant virus, despite the fact that his back was sore and he wasn't eating well.
My grandfather's birthday is coming up soon. We had planned for a party for him, but now we don't know if he'll be able to go to it.
I'm worried a lot about him. On one hand, I'm glad he's out of the hospital. But at the same time, I think he was better treated there.
