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.