Sam was doing good this morning at breakfast. Not great, but he was doing good.
He ate almost all of his oatmeal, eggs, bacon and toast. He drank his juice and his coffee. yay!
I found out that he was now back onto yet another antibiotic. I decided I better get him some yogurt.
After getting him back to his room and ready for PT, I left Sam to go run errands and check on a few other things.
I went back to check in on Sam and give him some yogurt and Ensure. The nurse grabbed me and told me that Sam did not eat lunch. He had refused it saying that he was too weak. I found Sam sound asleep in his bed. I managed to easily wake him up, and I asked him if he wanted some Danactive. He did. For most of his life, Sam was not a fan of yogurt, but because of all the antibiotics lately, Sam has learned to like it. I held a straw to his mouth as he drank his Danactive.
Sam decided he wanted to sit up. I asked if he wanted to sit up in bed or in his wheelchair. He chose the wheelchair. We got Sam into his wheelchair, and I handed him the Ensure. He drank it all and told me he was ready for physical therapy.
Really? I was so happy.
"Are you sure, Sam? You want me to wheel you down to physical therapy?"
He did.
As I left Sam, he had all the physical therapists laughing at whatever he was saying.
I walked out very happy....!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I had to pull a "Terms of Endearment" ....
I was going to check on Sam last night anyway. Since he was doing so great yesterday morning, and since I didn't stay very long with him, I was going to go back and check on him; take him his clean clothes and see how his day went. Before I went, he called me. He told me he had a problem. I went over ...
I found him sound asleep slumped over in his wheelchair. I had a hard time waking him up. Because he wasn't waking up, I finally said, "Sam, would you like to get into bed?"
He looked weakly up at me and nodded.
I went out into the main room and asked the nurse if someone could please come put Sam into his bed.
The main room was full of people getting ready to go to dinner. The patients were sitting around watching TV and talking while they were waiting. A few of the Physical Therapists were sitting around taking a needed break. The nurse was sitting at her little station.
As I asked the nurse about getting Sam into bed, she said a bit snotty to me, at least in my mind, "It's almost time for dinner. He needs to go to the dining room."
I turned to her, looked her straight in the eyes and said, probably a bit louder and meaner than I intended, "Does he even look like he'll be going to the dining room????"
I must have said it louder and meaner than I intended because every eye in the room was now watching me, and two physical therapists and a nurse went running into his room.
They helped undress him, and they put him to bed.
After he was in bed, I went to talk to the nurse. I asked her how his day went.
She told me, "He's had diarrhea all day. That's probably why he's so weak now."
Again, a bit loud and rude, because I was mad and frustrated, I said, "He's had diarrhea all weekend. What are y'all doing about it?"
She informed me that she had taken a sample and had a call in to the doctor.
I did calm down, and I did tell her that I appreciated that, but we had been told that a call had been made to the doctor over the weekend. Had they lied to us? Had the doctor not gotten back to them? Who was it that dropped this ball? Needless to say, she didn't tell me much. I'm not family.
She also told me that he might do better if he had some gatorade. I asked her if she would get him some. She told me that they did not have any. I looked at her and told her that I would go get him some gatorade, but that I would be back.
I went and got the gatorade, and while I was out, I called his daughter to tell her what all had transpired.
She, too, was angry. We had been under the impression that the doctor had been called days earlier. She wanted to know who was responsible. She could get answers that I could not. I took the gatorade back to Sam's room, poured it into a cup and checked on him. He was sleeping soundly, so I left.
I knew his daughter would be there soon. She was going to take him some soup since he missed supper. What I thought was funny was that she asked me what flavor soup he likes best. Potato. He loves potato with green chile, but I felt given the circumstances, he didn't need the green chiles, but he does love his potato soup.
I'll be going soon to check on him this morning, and I'm taking a powerade with me....
What it makes me think of more than anything is all of those people who do not have anyone to speak up for them. The ones who are alone.
I overheard one woman talking the other day in the dining room and she said she has outlived everyone she knew. Who speaks up for her?
I found him sound asleep slumped over in his wheelchair. I had a hard time waking him up. Because he wasn't waking up, I finally said, "Sam, would you like to get into bed?"
He looked weakly up at me and nodded.
I went out into the main room and asked the nurse if someone could please come put Sam into his bed.
The main room was full of people getting ready to go to dinner. The patients were sitting around watching TV and talking while they were waiting. A few of the Physical Therapists were sitting around taking a needed break. The nurse was sitting at her little station.
As I asked the nurse about getting Sam into bed, she said a bit snotty to me, at least in my mind, "It's almost time for dinner. He needs to go to the dining room."
I turned to her, looked her straight in the eyes and said, probably a bit louder and meaner than I intended, "Does he even look like he'll be going to the dining room????"
I must have said it louder and meaner than I intended because every eye in the room was now watching me, and two physical therapists and a nurse went running into his room.
They helped undress him, and they put him to bed.
After he was in bed, I went to talk to the nurse. I asked her how his day went.
She told me, "He's had diarrhea all day. That's probably why he's so weak now."
Again, a bit loud and rude, because I was mad and frustrated, I said, "He's had diarrhea all weekend. What are y'all doing about it?"
She informed me that she had taken a sample and had a call in to the doctor.
I did calm down, and I did tell her that I appreciated that, but we had been told that a call had been made to the doctor over the weekend. Had they lied to us? Had the doctor not gotten back to them? Who was it that dropped this ball? Needless to say, she didn't tell me much. I'm not family.
She also told me that he might do better if he had some gatorade. I asked her if she would get him some. She told me that they did not have any. I looked at her and told her that I would go get him some gatorade, but that I would be back.
I went and got the gatorade, and while I was out, I called his daughter to tell her what all had transpired.
She, too, was angry. We had been under the impression that the doctor had been called days earlier. She wanted to know who was responsible. She could get answers that I could not. I took the gatorade back to Sam's room, poured it into a cup and checked on him. He was sleeping soundly, so I left.
I knew his daughter would be there soon. She was going to take him some soup since he missed supper. What I thought was funny was that she asked me what flavor soup he likes best. Potato. He loves potato with green chile, but I felt given the circumstances, he didn't need the green chiles, but he does love his potato soup.
I'll be going soon to check on him this morning, and I'm taking a powerade with me....
What it makes me think of more than anything is all of those people who do not have anyone to speak up for them. The ones who are alone.
I overheard one woman talking the other day in the dining room and she said she has outlived everyone she knew. Who speaks up for her?
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sam is doing so much better ...
Last week Sam was having a rough time. Because of the pneumonia, he was taking both an antibiotic and a steroid. He needed both of these medicines for his lungs, but the medication was tearing up the rest of his body. His stomach was quite upset, and he was physically wiped out.
By the end of last week, we knew these medicines were tearing him up ... but we also knew that the medications were necessary. We were told that his last dose of both medications would be on Saturday. I told Sam that I knew he would have a bad weekend, but if he could just hold in there, he would be much better after the weekend. much better after the medications were done.
Sam had a horrible weekend. I won't go into details, but he scared me. He looked so fragile. While asleep, he even looked as though he were already dead. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I was so worried about Sam.
Sunday morning when I went to check on Sam, he wasn't at breakfast. The nurses informed me that he was refusing breakfast. I went to find him. He was not in his room. The nurses had him in the larger living room sleeping in a recliner. Again, he looked so fragile. So pitiful. He was sound asleep. I went to check on his room and found his bed was stripped. I straightened his room, grabbed his dirty clothes and went to get some information.
I was told that he had had a rough night ... and morning. The reason his bed was stripped was because he had used his urinal, and when the nurse came to get it from him, rather than handing it to her, Sam poured it all over himself and his bed. They had cleaned him up and moved him to the recliner; now they were cleaning his room.
I was so upset. I felt so bad for Sam. I was so worried. I explained to the nurse that I wouldn't be staying. I didn't need to stay there while he slept. They would take good care of Sam, but I did explain that I would be leaving and that I would have my phone. They, or Sam, could call me once he awoke.
I never heard from anyone.
I knew his daughter was planning to visit, so, as worried as I was, I figured no news was good news, and I did know he was in good hands.
Then, this morning I went to see him. I did not know what to expect. As I walked into the dining room, there was Sam. At the breakfast table. Looking good. Looking like himself. Looking strong. We talked while he ate, and after he finished I helped him back to his room.
Once we got to his room, Sam basically kicked me out. We talked about a few things that he wanted done, but otherwise, he told me to just go home. If he needed me, he would call.
Why was he trying so hard to get rid of me? Because he wanted to go make appointments with all the Physical Therapists to get some of his exercises done!! I was so happy. So excited.
Sam is back. Sam is feeling good again.
By the end of last week, we knew these medicines were tearing him up ... but we also knew that the medications were necessary. We were told that his last dose of both medications would be on Saturday. I told Sam that I knew he would have a bad weekend, but if he could just hold in there, he would be much better after the weekend. much better after the medications were done.
Sam had a horrible weekend. I won't go into details, but he scared me. He looked so fragile. While asleep, he even looked as though he were already dead. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I was so worried about Sam.
Sunday morning when I went to check on Sam, he wasn't at breakfast. The nurses informed me that he was refusing breakfast. I went to find him. He was not in his room. The nurses had him in the larger living room sleeping in a recliner. Again, he looked so fragile. So pitiful. He was sound asleep. I went to check on his room and found his bed was stripped. I straightened his room, grabbed his dirty clothes and went to get some information.
I was told that he had had a rough night ... and morning. The reason his bed was stripped was because he had used his urinal, and when the nurse came to get it from him, rather than handing it to her, Sam poured it all over himself and his bed. They had cleaned him up and moved him to the recliner; now they were cleaning his room.
I was so upset. I felt so bad for Sam. I was so worried. I explained to the nurse that I wouldn't be staying. I didn't need to stay there while he slept. They would take good care of Sam, but I did explain that I would be leaving and that I would have my phone. They, or Sam, could call me once he awoke.
I never heard from anyone.
I knew his daughter was planning to visit, so, as worried as I was, I figured no news was good news, and I did know he was in good hands.
Then, this morning I went to see him. I did not know what to expect. As I walked into the dining room, there was Sam. At the breakfast table. Looking good. Looking like himself. Looking strong. We talked while he ate, and after he finished I helped him back to his room.
Once we got to his room, Sam basically kicked me out. We talked about a few things that he wanted done, but otherwise, he told me to just go home. If he needed me, he would call.
Why was he trying so hard to get rid of me? Because he wanted to go make appointments with all the Physical Therapists to get some of his exercises done!! I was so happy. So excited.
Sam is back. Sam is feeling good again.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Sam and his sense of humor....
I really really need to update this more often and write down many of the witty things that Sam says. I always think I will remember them; I seldom do.
Sam is out of the hospital and back in rehab.
The other morning the chef at the rehab came into the dining room and was walking from table to table asking everyone how their meal was.
He came over to Sam and asked, "Was everything OK with the food?"
Sam said, "Oh yes. There were no problems with the food."
The chef smiled and as he walked off, Sam said, "The problem was with the preparation."
The chef, at first, didn't know what to think, but then he noticed the smile on Sam's face.
Both men had a nice laugh.
Most people always think that I am Sam's daughter. Yesterday yet another person asked Sam if I was his daughter. Sam replied, "Nope. She's my girlfriend. We're getting married just as soon as her divorce is final." The girl looked at me. She looked at Sam. I started laughing, and I said, "Now Sam ... you know you aren't supposed to be telling everyone that."
I honestly don't know what the girl thought when she left the room.....
I will try to remember more of what he has said, or at least be better at writing any that he says in the future. I know when I took him to the doctor the other day, he said something to make the doctor laugh, but dad gum if I can remember it now..... grrrrr
Sam is out of the hospital and back in rehab.
The other morning the chef at the rehab came into the dining room and was walking from table to table asking everyone how their meal was.
He came over to Sam and asked, "Was everything OK with the food?"
Sam said, "Oh yes. There were no problems with the food."
The chef smiled and as he walked off, Sam said, "The problem was with the preparation."
The chef, at first, didn't know what to think, but then he noticed the smile on Sam's face.
Both men had a nice laugh.
Most people always think that I am Sam's daughter. Yesterday yet another person asked Sam if I was his daughter. Sam replied, "Nope. She's my girlfriend. We're getting married just as soon as her divorce is final." The girl looked at me. She looked at Sam. I started laughing, and I said, "Now Sam ... you know you aren't supposed to be telling everyone that."
I honestly don't know what the girl thought when she left the room.....
I will try to remember more of what he has said, or at least be better at writing any that he says in the future. I know when I took him to the doctor the other day, he said something to make the doctor laugh, but dad gum if I can remember it now..... grrrrr
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sailor gets a package...
Taking care of people's pets is not the only thing I do while they are out of town. I also will pick up newspapers, mail, water plants, straighten up the house; lots of little things to help the owners out and ease their minds.
As I was going to get Sailor for our walk, I noticed a package by Fred's front gate. I had no idea if it was dropped off by UPS, FedEx or some lesser known delivery service, but I picked up the package, took it into the house and placed it on the counter with the mail.
That evening I put Sailor in for the night. Checked the house, made sure Sailor had water and went home.
Next morning, I go back to Fred's house to feed Sailor and let him out for the day.
As I enter the house, I see the opened package on the floor. aaaarrrrggghhh.... what the heck? I realize right away that Sailor has gotten into the package; more than that, Sailor has opened the package. I immediately feel responsible for not taking better care of the package, and I wonder what was in that package to make Sailor want it so badly.
I let Sailor out while I take a better look around the house. Good news is that the rest of the house is nice and clean. Bad news is that bones (BIG bones) are scattered all over Fred's living room. I stand there for a couple of minutes just taking it all in...
I am confused. No dry ice. No styrofoam. No individual wrapping. but BIG bones all over the living room. Seriously ... what was in that package? A side of beef? But, who sends meat in a package? Who sends meat in a package without individually wrapping the different meat sections? Who sends meat in a package without dry ice or some other kind of packaging to keep the meat fresh? And ... did Sailor eat ALL the meat? I see a few remnants of meat, but mainly all I see is bones. BIG bones.
I clean up the mess; I put the bones into ziplock bags and place them in the refrigerator. I clean up the few pieces of meat that have stuck to the tile and rug. I pick up the 'trash' that was once the package.
I leave Fred a note telling him how sorry I am about Sailor's party, but there was NO WAY that I could ever know what was in that package. I had no idea that Sailor would attack the package that way.
In the afternoon Fred calls; he's due home later that day.
"Hey Fred. Are you home yet?"
"No. I'm still a couple of hours away."
"Oh. OK. Are you expecting a package?"
"Yeah. My brother is sending me some elk bones for Sailor."
"Ahhhhhhhhh.....OK, now things are making sense."
"What?"
"Well, Sailor opened the package. I had it on the counter, and he helped himself."
"Well, it was for him..... that boy."
I love laughing with Fred over Sailor's antics, and I love that Fred has a sense of humor. Some people would not find this so funny........
As I was going to get Sailor for our walk, I noticed a package by Fred's front gate. I had no idea if it was dropped off by UPS, FedEx or some lesser known delivery service, but I picked up the package, took it into the house and placed it on the counter with the mail.
That evening I put Sailor in for the night. Checked the house, made sure Sailor had water and went home.
Next morning, I go back to Fred's house to feed Sailor and let him out for the day.
As I enter the house, I see the opened package on the floor. aaaarrrrggghhh.... what the heck? I realize right away that Sailor has gotten into the package; more than that, Sailor has opened the package. I immediately feel responsible for not taking better care of the package, and I wonder what was in that package to make Sailor want it so badly.
I let Sailor out while I take a better look around the house. Good news is that the rest of the house is nice and clean. Bad news is that bones (BIG bones) are scattered all over Fred's living room. I stand there for a couple of minutes just taking it all in...
I am confused. No dry ice. No styrofoam. No individual wrapping. but BIG bones all over the living room. Seriously ... what was in that package? A side of beef? But, who sends meat in a package? Who sends meat in a package without individually wrapping the different meat sections? Who sends meat in a package without dry ice or some other kind of packaging to keep the meat fresh? And ... did Sailor eat ALL the meat? I see a few remnants of meat, but mainly all I see is bones. BIG bones.
I clean up the mess; I put the bones into ziplock bags and place them in the refrigerator. I clean up the few pieces of meat that have stuck to the tile and rug. I pick up the 'trash' that was once the package.
I leave Fred a note telling him how sorry I am about Sailor's party, but there was NO WAY that I could ever know what was in that package. I had no idea that Sailor would attack the package that way.
In the afternoon Fred calls; he's due home later that day.
"Hey Fred. Are you home yet?"
"No. I'm still a couple of hours away."
"Oh. OK. Are you expecting a package?"
"Yeah. My brother is sending me some elk bones for Sailor."
"Ahhhhhhhhh.....OK, now things are making sense."
"What?"
"Well, Sailor opened the package. I had it on the counter, and he helped himself."
"Well, it was for him..... that boy."
I love laughing with Fred over Sailor's antics, and I love that Fred has a sense of humor. Some people would not find this so funny........
Friday, January 14, 2011
Fred went out of town....
Fred went out of town for a few days, and I got to take care of Sailor.
The first day I stopped by to take Sailor for a walk.
As we were walking, I called Fred.
Part of our conversation follows:
"Um, Fred ... you left your dog without any water."
"He has water."
"No, Fred. He has a giant ice cube shaped like a bucket."
"Oh. The temperature did drop last night, didn't it?"
"Yes, Fred, it did. You left your dog with no water."
"Well ..... that's why I pay you."
Then we both started laughing.
I love that Fred and I can talk so easily.
...and give one another a hard time.
The first day I stopped by to take Sailor for a walk.
As we were walking, I called Fred.
Part of our conversation follows:
"Um, Fred ... you left your dog without any water."
"He has water."
"No, Fred. He has a giant ice cube shaped like a bucket."
"Oh. The temperature did drop last night, didn't it?"
"Yes, Fred, it did. You left your dog with no water."
"Well ..... that's why I pay you."
Then we both started laughing.
I love that Fred and I can talk so easily.
...and give one another a hard time.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sam has been moved to ICU...
On Tuesday Sam's doctor decided to give him a steroid to help with his breathing and his recovery. Sadly, the medication had a negative effect for Sam. Sam had a bad reaction to the steroid, and he endured a rough night Tuesday night.
Everyone was hoping that Wednesday would be better, but sadly, it was not.
Late in the afternoon on Wednesday, Sam called me and told me that I better come up to the hospital. I got there just as Sam was being prepared to be moved to ICU. I gathered up his personal belongings to keep them safe while he was moved.
As the nurses were working on Sam's IV and his oxygen tank, Sam still retained his sense of humor. First he said to me, "As the Chinaman says, 'Someting wong.'" I laughed. Oh Sam......!! ha! Then his nurse told him that she had been talking with Kimber; Kimber would be Sam's new nurse down in ICU. Sam's first question was, "Is she single?" The nurse and I both laughed. I was happy to see that even though he was not feeling so great, even though he was doing poorly, he was able to keep his sense of humor about him.
I followed Sam down to ICU, but I never saw him again once he got there. I eventually left, but his daughter came later for a visit. I talked with her on the phone, and I could hear Sam in the background. He wanted to make sure I did have his cell phone. (I did.)
Visiting hours begin at 9:00 am, so that is where I will soon be heading........
Everyone was hoping that Wednesday would be better, but sadly, it was not.
Late in the afternoon on Wednesday, Sam called me and told me that I better come up to the hospital. I got there just as Sam was being prepared to be moved to ICU. I gathered up his personal belongings to keep them safe while he was moved.
As the nurses were working on Sam's IV and his oxygen tank, Sam still retained his sense of humor. First he said to me, "As the Chinaman says, 'Someting wong.'" I laughed. Oh Sam......!! ha! Then his nurse told him that she had been talking with Kimber; Kimber would be Sam's new nurse down in ICU. Sam's first question was, "Is she single?" The nurse and I both laughed. I was happy to see that even though he was not feeling so great, even though he was doing poorly, he was able to keep his sense of humor about him.
I followed Sam down to ICU, but I never saw him again once he got there. I eventually left, but his daughter came later for a visit. I talked with her on the phone, and I could hear Sam in the background. He wanted to make sure I did have his cell phone. (I did.)
Visiting hours begin at 9:00 am, so that is where I will soon be heading........
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Sam has pneumonia....
Last Thursday I was so happy. Sam came home from rehab.
He looked good. He had energy. He seemed stronger than I've seen him in a very long time.
Friday morning, the home health care nurse came to evaluate him. All of his vitals were great. He was feeling great. Then she listened to his lungs. She said everything was perfect, except that he had a little bit of wheezing in his lungs.
I didn't love hearing that, but I didn't realize how much I needed to worry.
Saturday morning, when I showed up at his apartment, Sam was still in bed. That has never happened. I was a bit worried now. I checked on him, he was sleeping, so I let him sleep. I was cautious. I didn't know how long I should allow him to sleep, but I also didn't know how his night had gone. Had he had a bad night, and just finally got to sleep, he didn't need me to come and wake him up. I closed his bedroom door, and let him sleep while I straightened up his apartment.
I checked in on him again. Still asleep. hmmmm.
Played on the computer, all the while though, I was worried.
Checked on him again. Still asleep. Getting more worried.
Finally around 9:15am, Sam stirred.
Relief.
But Sam was not feeling good. He did not look good. He thought, at that time, that he was trying to catch a cold. I talked to his daughter, and she was quite concerned. She wasn't sure if it was a cold or allergies. Either way, she was worried.
I turned on his air purifier and put him on his oxygen. He just wanted to sleep. So he went back to bed.
I left for a bit.
When I came back later with lunch, he was up and out of bed. Relief.
I stayed for a while, but left him again knowing his daughter would be checking in on him later.
Sunday I had the day off as his daughter was going to spend time with him. I went about my day.
Sunday night I got a call from his daughter. Sam was not doing good at all, and she was going to take him to the ER. She'd let me know.....
Sam was admitted to the hospital. He has pneumonia.
Pneumonia and 83 years do not make a good combination.
Monday morning, I went in to check on Sam. He was so pitiful. So fragile. So weak.
He laid in his bed and slept fitfully the entire time I was there. He tried to speak a few times, but it took so much effort. His breathing was labored. I told him to just sleep. He got a breathing treatment while I was there, which was bittersweet for me. It brought back all those memories of my father getting his breathing treatments while in the hospital before his death. However, after his breathing treatment, Sam sounded so much better, even to my untrained ears.
I went back today, and Sam was improved. Not much. But again, even to my untrained ears, I could tell his breathing sounded so much better. Less of an effort. Less wheezing. He still has so little energy, and, pretty much, the only thing he does is sleep ... and sadly, his sleep is not peaceful, but he does seem better today than yesterday.
We'll see how he is tomorrow.............
He looked good. He had energy. He seemed stronger than I've seen him in a very long time.
Friday morning, the home health care nurse came to evaluate him. All of his vitals were great. He was feeling great. Then she listened to his lungs. She said everything was perfect, except that he had a little bit of wheezing in his lungs.
I didn't love hearing that, but I didn't realize how much I needed to worry.
Saturday morning, when I showed up at his apartment, Sam was still in bed. That has never happened. I was a bit worried now. I checked on him, he was sleeping, so I let him sleep. I was cautious. I didn't know how long I should allow him to sleep, but I also didn't know how his night had gone. Had he had a bad night, and just finally got to sleep, he didn't need me to come and wake him up. I closed his bedroom door, and let him sleep while I straightened up his apartment.
I checked in on him again. Still asleep. hmmmm.
Played on the computer, all the while though, I was worried.
Checked on him again. Still asleep. Getting more worried.
Finally around 9:15am, Sam stirred.
Relief.
But Sam was not feeling good. He did not look good. He thought, at that time, that he was trying to catch a cold. I talked to his daughter, and she was quite concerned. She wasn't sure if it was a cold or allergies. Either way, she was worried.
I turned on his air purifier and put him on his oxygen. He just wanted to sleep. So he went back to bed.
I left for a bit.
When I came back later with lunch, he was up and out of bed. Relief.
I stayed for a while, but left him again knowing his daughter would be checking in on him later.
Sunday I had the day off as his daughter was going to spend time with him. I went about my day.
Sunday night I got a call from his daughter. Sam was not doing good at all, and she was going to take him to the ER. She'd let me know.....
Sam was admitted to the hospital. He has pneumonia.
Pneumonia and 83 years do not make a good combination.
Monday morning, I went in to check on Sam. He was so pitiful. So fragile. So weak.
He laid in his bed and slept fitfully the entire time I was there. He tried to speak a few times, but it took so much effort. His breathing was labored. I told him to just sleep. He got a breathing treatment while I was there, which was bittersweet for me. It brought back all those memories of my father getting his breathing treatments while in the hospital before his death. However, after his breathing treatment, Sam sounded so much better, even to my untrained ears.
I went back today, and Sam was improved. Not much. But again, even to my untrained ears, I could tell his breathing sounded so much better. Less of an effort. Less wheezing. He still has so little energy, and, pretty much, the only thing he does is sleep ... and sadly, his sleep is not peaceful, but he does seem better today than yesterday.
We'll see how he is tomorrow.............
Thursday, January 6, 2011
rehab hospital...
I've been thinking of this for a few days but was not quite sure how to put it into words.
There is a man at the hospital; I have no idea what happened to him. He seems paralyzed in some way. I'm not sure if he had a stroke or what happened, but his face looks a bit 'off' as well. But this man also has something quite special. Every time I have ever seen him, I have seen his wife with him. Rubbing him, talking to him, sitting beside him. One day as I walked by the open door of his room, I saw his wife washing his face. She had a wet washcloth and was gently washing his face. What I absolutely loved about this moment was the complete look of love on her face as she was taking care of her husband. The way she looked at him ... the way she touched him. I could see the love she had for him. More than that, I could feel the love she had for him. As she saw me, she looked up and smiled. Not a courtesy smile, but a true and genuine smile. This woman blew me away.
Her love. Her attitude. Blew me away.
She has touched my soul, and she has inspired me.
We should all love the way she does. We should all be loved the way she does.
There is a man at the hospital; I have no idea what happened to him. He seems paralyzed in some way. I'm not sure if he had a stroke or what happened, but his face looks a bit 'off' as well. But this man also has something quite special. Every time I have ever seen him, I have seen his wife with him. Rubbing him, talking to him, sitting beside him. One day as I walked by the open door of his room, I saw his wife washing his face. She had a wet washcloth and was gently washing his face. What I absolutely loved about this moment was the complete look of love on her face as she was taking care of her husband. The way she looked at him ... the way she touched him. I could see the love she had for him. More than that, I could feel the love she had for him. As she saw me, she looked up and smiled. Not a courtesy smile, but a true and genuine smile. This woman blew me away.
Her love. Her attitude. Blew me away.
She has touched my soul, and she has inspired me.
We should all love the way she does. We should all be loved the way she does.
Sam going home...
Sam should be leaving the rehab hospital and should be heading home sometime today.
Sam is always a high fall risk. While he has been in the rehab hospital, the staff has had a monitor on him to keep him from getting up by himself. It's an alarm that attaches to his wheelchair on one end and attaches to his shirt on the other. As he stands, the attachment on his shirt pulls out of the alarm on the wheelchair setting off a loud screeching noise. Sam has hated this little device.
The main reason Sam hates the alarm so much, is because it takes away his freedom. He can't do anything by himself, and must constantly wait for help. This is frustrating for the most part, but especially when it comes to going to the bathroom. Sam would turn on his little 'help' light for someone to come and check on him, but all too often it took quite a while before someone actually did come in to see what he needed. In all honesty, it may have only taken five or ten minutes, but when one has to go to the bathroom, five or ten minutes seems much, much longer. I told Sam that if I were him, I would simply stand up when it was taking too long to get help. He looked at me not understanding. "Well," I said, "I'm thinking once you stand up, you set off the alarm. I'm guessing they'll come running a lot faster for an alarm than for a light." Sam loved it. The next day when I went back to see Sam, he informed me that the alarm idea did work. He said, with a twinkle in his eye, "They do get a bit upset and angry, but they do come quicker!!"
I love it!!
Sam is always a high fall risk. While he has been in the rehab hospital, the staff has had a monitor on him to keep him from getting up by himself. It's an alarm that attaches to his wheelchair on one end and attaches to his shirt on the other. As he stands, the attachment on his shirt pulls out of the alarm on the wheelchair setting off a loud screeching noise. Sam has hated this little device.
The main reason Sam hates the alarm so much, is because it takes away his freedom. He can't do anything by himself, and must constantly wait for help. This is frustrating for the most part, but especially when it comes to going to the bathroom. Sam would turn on his little 'help' light for someone to come and check on him, but all too often it took quite a while before someone actually did come in to see what he needed. In all honesty, it may have only taken five or ten minutes, but when one has to go to the bathroom, five or ten minutes seems much, much longer. I told Sam that if I were him, I would simply stand up when it was taking too long to get help. He looked at me not understanding. "Well," I said, "I'm thinking once you stand up, you set off the alarm. I'm guessing they'll come running a lot faster for an alarm than for a light." Sam loved it. The next day when I went back to see Sam, he informed me that the alarm idea did work. He said, with a twinkle in his eye, "They do get a bit upset and angry, but they do come quicker!!"
I love it!!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Sam doesn't understand...
As I was visiting with Sam today, there wasn't that much for me to do, so I sat down, and we started visiting. I asked Sam what he had done yesterday, and he informed me that he watched some football and made some phone calls.
Sam called a few of his old buddies. I asked him if he called any of his old friends in Florida, and this started a new conversation. Yesterday he did call an old friend. This friend had been married for years and years to, according to Sam, a real sweet gal. Sam said he just didn't 'get it' but he has noticed that so many men take up with a new woman after their wives die. He's noticed some of his friends taking up with some of the widows after their own wives die, and Sam just does not understand how they can do this. He was so cute, because he said that he didn't want to judge others; they could do as they wished, but that he had met his wife when she was fifteen, and he could not imagine getting intimate with another woman. He said he couldn't even imagine talking to another woman for any length of time. Then he did add that he may at some time change his mind, he doesn't know how he'll feel in a year or more, but for today, he just cannot imagine spending any time with another woman. (I thought he was so cute talking about his wife in this way.)
He did make me laugh. He told me that this old buddy of his had married a second time after his first wife died, and now the second wife had also died. "So I offered him my congratulations." said Sam.
Ummmm. Sam. I think you mean "condolences"
Sam called a few of his old buddies. I asked him if he called any of his old friends in Florida, and this started a new conversation. Yesterday he did call an old friend. This friend had been married for years and years to, according to Sam, a real sweet gal. Sam said he just didn't 'get it' but he has noticed that so many men take up with a new woman after their wives die. He's noticed some of his friends taking up with some of the widows after their own wives die, and Sam just does not understand how they can do this. He was so cute, because he said that he didn't want to judge others; they could do as they wished, but that he had met his wife when she was fifteen, and he could not imagine getting intimate with another woman. He said he couldn't even imagine talking to another woman for any length of time. Then he did add that he may at some time change his mind, he doesn't know how he'll feel in a year or more, but for today, he just cannot imagine spending any time with another woman. (I thought he was so cute talking about his wife in this way.)
He did make me laugh. He told me that this old buddy of his had married a second time after his first wife died, and now the second wife had also died. "So I offered him my congratulations." said Sam.
Ummmm. Sam. I think you mean "condolences"
2011 ... a New Year
Sam is doing great these days.
I went back home to Houston for Christmas, and upon my return to Las Cruces, I learned Sam was in the hospital. While I was gone, he got severely dehydrated. Thankfully he only spent a few days in the hospital, but instead of heading home, he was taken to a rehabilitation hospital. Ever since his last hospital visit, he never got his energy back. He's been quite weak and lethargic.
I believe this rehab hospital is going to be a wonderful wonderful opportunity for Sam. I believe he is getting attention that he has needed for quite a while but hasn't received. In the rehab hospital he is getting occupational therapy, physical therapy and speech therapy.
As I mentioned, he's been lethargic and weak, and he has been wanting to do very little besides lie in bed and rest. I do understand that, but as we all know, the more one lies around and does nothing, the more one wants to lie around and do nothing. In the rehab hospital, Sam does not have that choice. The therapists have him up and about and doing different exercises all day long. It's been exhausting for him, but so so good for him at the same time. He's gaining strength back, and he is doing so great. He looks great. He's getting around great. He's feeling great. It's so wonderful for me to see, and I'm so happy for how he must be feeling.
I went back home to Houston for Christmas, and upon my return to Las Cruces, I learned Sam was in the hospital. While I was gone, he got severely dehydrated. Thankfully he only spent a few days in the hospital, but instead of heading home, he was taken to a rehabilitation hospital. Ever since his last hospital visit, he never got his energy back. He's been quite weak and lethargic.
I believe this rehab hospital is going to be a wonderful wonderful opportunity for Sam. I believe he is getting attention that he has needed for quite a while but hasn't received. In the rehab hospital he is getting occupational therapy, physical therapy and speech therapy.
As I mentioned, he's been lethargic and weak, and he has been wanting to do very little besides lie in bed and rest. I do understand that, but as we all know, the more one lies around and does nothing, the more one wants to lie around and do nothing. In the rehab hospital, Sam does not have that choice. The therapists have him up and about and doing different exercises all day long. It's been exhausting for him, but so so good for him at the same time. He's gaining strength back, and he is doing so great. He looks great. He's getting around great. He's feeling great. It's so wonderful for me to see, and I'm so happy for how he must be feeling.