The Weekend
I don't have posts from Saturday and Sunday, so from here on out what I write here will have been written just for here.
Saturday was, for me, the worst day to date. I drove Mom to the hospital, as I did each day that I was in town, and when we got there Mom went straight back to visit him (well before the official visiting time!). When she came back, her report was grim. Dad had had a rough night, with his oxygen levels dropping quite low, so that they had to bring his respirator back from 50% oxygen to 100% oxygen. Then the morning X-ray showed him with a spot on his lungs, probable pneumonia, which meant they had to introduce antibiotics. We had been warned that any recovery depends on his staying free from infections, so this was extremely alarming.
On Friday they had given Dad a diuretic to clear some of the excess fluids from his system. Mom guessed (correctly, the nurse later confirmed) that this had been done too soon -- the fluids were supporting his heart, and his badly weakened right ventricle needed all the support it could get to get the blood flowing to and from the lungs properly. So of course they were re-introducing the fluids, which meant he'd be swollen again.
When we saw Dad at the 12:30 and 4:30 visits, he was heavily sedated and looked worse than he had the day before. We had been allowing ourselves to be buoyed by Dr. Cho (the surgeon)'s comments from the day before, and this took the wind out of our sails. Mom was blue a good portion of the day and we were all emotionally drained.
After the 4:30 visit, Mom and I headed back towards her house, stopping at Kirsten's group house on the way. There we told her that Dad was in the hospital, recovering from a heart attack, and that we couldn't bring her home for a while. Normally she comes home once a week for a few hours, but Dad has to bear her weight and keep her from falling, and without his help she's impossible to move. We also didn't expect to have a few hours at home anytime soon! Kirsten, who is both physically and mentally disabled, took the news about Dad much better than I expected -- she did want to make sure he was just sick, not dead, but she accepted our responses without much emotion.
We stopped back home and got some dinner (my husband Daniel cooked us the first hot meal we'd had since Tuesday) and then headed back to the hospital. I wasn't sure how I'd get through another rough half hour with Dad, but it's one of those things you just have to do -- and not seeing him would be unthinkable.
Fortunately, our final visit with Dad was dramatically better than the previous two! He was somewhat responsive and all his numbers looked better (as did he). His oxygen was still at 100%, but he tried to open his eyes, and he squeezed our hands so often and so firmly that we worried he'd wear himself out. We stayed well beyond the end of visiting half-hour and left in a much better collective mood than we'd had to start.
Sunday started out with Mass for all of us (except Dad, of course). It was Gaudete Sunday, the joyful Sunday of Advent, and I don't know when I've ever heard readings that were more apt. The first reading spoke of hope and healing -- Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak ... the lame will leap like a stag. It felt like reassurance that Dad would be well. Then the second reading was all about patience, which was both hard to hear and comforting at the same time -- our prayers will be answered in time, but it could be a long time. (I have a tough time finding patience with ordinary things. After Dad's first couple of days, I felt like his recovery was going to take off and he'd be well in no time -- even though I knew intellectually that wasn't probable -- so Saturday's setback felt much worse than a mere setback. I needed to be reminded that patience is always required.) Finally, the Gospel reading repeated the message of healing, and urged us to have faith. I think I should bookmark the online lectionary for that day and read it every day until Dad is well!
Sunday at the hospital was a day of holding steady. Dad's oxygen levels remained more or less right, but they kept his input at 100% for most of the day. Even though it was just yesterday, I'm having a hard time remembering the details of our visits, so I'll have to leave the rest of my updates for tomorrow (or for someone else to do) when my mind is clearer.
Saturday was, for me, the worst day to date. I drove Mom to the hospital, as I did each day that I was in town, and when we got there Mom went straight back to visit him (well before the official visiting time!). When she came back, her report was grim. Dad had had a rough night, with his oxygen levels dropping quite low, so that they had to bring his respirator back from 50% oxygen to 100% oxygen. Then the morning X-ray showed him with a spot on his lungs, probable pneumonia, which meant they had to introduce antibiotics. We had been warned that any recovery depends on his staying free from infections, so this was extremely alarming.
On Friday they had given Dad a diuretic to clear some of the excess fluids from his system. Mom guessed (correctly, the nurse later confirmed) that this had been done too soon -- the fluids were supporting his heart, and his badly weakened right ventricle needed all the support it could get to get the blood flowing to and from the lungs properly. So of course they were re-introducing the fluids, which meant he'd be swollen again.
When we saw Dad at the 12:30 and 4:30 visits, he was heavily sedated and looked worse than he had the day before. We had been allowing ourselves to be buoyed by Dr. Cho (the surgeon)'s comments from the day before, and this took the wind out of our sails. Mom was blue a good portion of the day and we were all emotionally drained.
After the 4:30 visit, Mom and I headed back towards her house, stopping at Kirsten's group house on the way. There we told her that Dad was in the hospital, recovering from a heart attack, and that we couldn't bring her home for a while. Normally she comes home once a week for a few hours, but Dad has to bear her weight and keep her from falling, and without his help she's impossible to move. We also didn't expect to have a few hours at home anytime soon! Kirsten, who is both physically and mentally disabled, took the news about Dad much better than I expected -- she did want to make sure he was just sick, not dead, but she accepted our responses without much emotion.
We stopped back home and got some dinner (my husband Daniel cooked us the first hot meal we'd had since Tuesday) and then headed back to the hospital. I wasn't sure how I'd get through another rough half hour with Dad, but it's one of those things you just have to do -- and not seeing him would be unthinkable.
Fortunately, our final visit with Dad was dramatically better than the previous two! He was somewhat responsive and all his numbers looked better (as did he). His oxygen was still at 100%, but he tried to open his eyes, and he squeezed our hands so often and so firmly that we worried he'd wear himself out. We stayed well beyond the end of visiting half-hour and left in a much better collective mood than we'd had to start.
Sunday started out with Mass for all of us (except Dad, of course). It was Gaudete Sunday, the joyful Sunday of Advent, and I don't know when I've ever heard readings that were more apt. The first reading spoke of hope and healing -- Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the knees that are weak ... the lame will leap like a stag. It felt like reassurance that Dad would be well. Then the second reading was all about patience, which was both hard to hear and comforting at the same time -- our prayers will be answered in time, but it could be a long time. (I have a tough time finding patience with ordinary things. After Dad's first couple of days, I felt like his recovery was going to take off and he'd be well in no time -- even though I knew intellectually that wasn't probable -- so Saturday's setback felt much worse than a mere setback. I needed to be reminded that patience is always required.) Finally, the Gospel reading repeated the message of healing, and urged us to have faith. I think I should bookmark the online lectionary for that day and read it every day until Dad is well!
Sunday at the hospital was a day of holding steady. Dad's oxygen levels remained more or less right, but they kept his input at 100% for most of the day. Even though it was just yesterday, I'm having a hard time remembering the details of our visits, so I'll have to leave the rest of my updates for tomorrow (or for someone else to do) when my mind is clearer.
posted by Emily @ 12:15 AM
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