Food, glorious food!
Dad has been progressing like mad in the past week. Since his not-quite-pass in the swallowing test last week, he was supposed to get soft foods and thickened liquids from the SLP only, but early this week, that got put aside in favor of allowing him to eat these food under the supervision of a nurse. Mom brought in homemade applesauce and his favorite yogurt so that he wouldn't be stuck with just hospital jello and applesauce and things like that. Now it appears that they are bringing him three meals a day and just letting him eat on his own. I just spoke with his nurse (Mom being out of town for a couple of days for a funeral) and found out that this morning he ate all of his pureed french toast and orange juice, although he wouldn't eat the grits (can't blame him--it would take more than a heart attack and stroke to get me to eat grits!). He had pork chops for lunch but wasn't hungry, again not surprising since he's so unaccustomed to food at this point. His nurse said that he seemed really pleased to be eating three meals a day again.
They physical therapist has been coming by almost daily (she missed yesterday, so I called today to nag) to take Dad for a walk in the hall, and he's spending more and more time in his chair, although he is more comfortable in bed and needs a great deal of assistance getting in and out of the chair/bed. Yesterday Katie and I took Dad outside for a while in the evening. It was such a beautiful day and it seemed too good to miss, and Dad really seemed to enjoy being outside for the first time in four months. The trip turned into a comedy of errors, although a lot of it wasn't that funny--when I got to the hospital (later than I had hoped) the shift change was taking place, which means that all of the nurses are tied up for up to 45 minutes. They had already said it was o.k. to take Dad outside, but they wanted to start his tube feeding first (to avoid having the tube get blocked, they need to flush the tube regularly and keep the food flowing as much as possible) and then they all disappeared for the shift change. Katie and I realized pretty quickly that not only would they not be starting the food anytime soon, but if we didn't get moving, the sun would set before we got Dad out. So we just left with him--unplugged the IV pump and pushed him down the hall and out the door. As soon as we hit the front door, his pump started beeping (low battery warning). We plugged up the alarm as best as we could and just stayed outside enjoying the fresh air until it started to cool off. As we headed back inside (did I mention that he was in his big armchair and not a wheelchair? It was like trying to manoeuver a barge.) the batteries failed entirely, but fortunately Brenda (one of the assistants) met us on the way out and helped get Dad quickly back upstairs and plugged in.
So all should have been fine except that the pump decided to not work properly, and Dad's evening nurse was dealing with an emergency with another one of her patients (which would continue the rest of the evening). Brenda tried her best, got in another nurse or two, switched lines, pushed buttons, tried to find a new pump (they assured us this had nothing to do with going outside), and somehow, eventually, got it working again, although it kept stopping and beeping for the next two hours. Once that was going, Dad asked to get back in bed--it was 8:30 (much later than he was used to being out of bed), he had been in the chair for two hours, and he was tired. But again, it took a long time for this to happen since we had to wait for his nurse to be available. Finally she came in and we got Dad back in bed--and then his bed wouldn't work (it's an inflatable water filled fancy thing). For the next almost two hours he sat in this rock hard uncomfortable bed not complaining, while again the nurses and assistants tried to get the bed working. His nurse promised to call for service, but kept getting called away by her other patient. I tried wedging pillows under Dad to make him more comfortable, and I was really worried about his bedsore and all the pressure on it. The nurse finally called for service and we were waiting for a technician to call and tell us when he could come in (oh, maybe next Tuesday?) when another person on the hall somehow managed to get the bed working. Thank goodness! By then I was asking if we could just switch him to any available bed since it might have been a long time before a technician could come and we BOTH were really tired. So it was a long frustrating evening, but at least Dad and I had a long visit!
They physical therapist has been coming by almost daily (she missed yesterday, so I called today to nag) to take Dad for a walk in the hall, and he's spending more and more time in his chair, although he is more comfortable in bed and needs a great deal of assistance getting in and out of the chair/bed. Yesterday Katie and I took Dad outside for a while in the evening. It was such a beautiful day and it seemed too good to miss, and Dad really seemed to enjoy being outside for the first time in four months. The trip turned into a comedy of errors, although a lot of it wasn't that funny--when I got to the hospital (later than I had hoped) the shift change was taking place, which means that all of the nurses are tied up for up to 45 minutes. They had already said it was o.k. to take Dad outside, but they wanted to start his tube feeding first (to avoid having the tube get blocked, they need to flush the tube regularly and keep the food flowing as much as possible) and then they all disappeared for the shift change. Katie and I realized pretty quickly that not only would they not be starting the food anytime soon, but if we didn't get moving, the sun would set before we got Dad out. So we just left with him--unplugged the IV pump and pushed him down the hall and out the door. As soon as we hit the front door, his pump started beeping (low battery warning). We plugged up the alarm as best as we could and just stayed outside enjoying the fresh air until it started to cool off. As we headed back inside (did I mention that he was in his big armchair and not a wheelchair? It was like trying to manoeuver a barge.) the batteries failed entirely, but fortunately Brenda (one of the assistants) met us on the way out and helped get Dad quickly back upstairs and plugged in.
So all should have been fine except that the pump decided to not work properly, and Dad's evening nurse was dealing with an emergency with another one of her patients (which would continue the rest of the evening). Brenda tried her best, got in another nurse or two, switched lines, pushed buttons, tried to find a new pump (they assured us this had nothing to do with going outside), and somehow, eventually, got it working again, although it kept stopping and beeping for the next two hours. Once that was going, Dad asked to get back in bed--it was 8:30 (much later than he was used to being out of bed), he had been in the chair for two hours, and he was tired. But again, it took a long time for this to happen since we had to wait for his nurse to be available. Finally she came in and we got Dad back in bed--and then his bed wouldn't work (it's an inflatable water filled fancy thing). For the next almost two hours he sat in this rock hard uncomfortable bed not complaining, while again the nurses and assistants tried to get the bed working. His nurse promised to call for service, but kept getting called away by her other patient. I tried wedging pillows under Dad to make him more comfortable, and I was really worried about his bedsore and all the pressure on it. The nurse finally called for service and we were waiting for a technician to call and tell us when he could come in (oh, maybe next Tuesday?) when another person on the hall somehow managed to get the bed working. Thank goodness! By then I was asking if we could just switch him to any available bed since it might have been a long time before a technician could come and we BOTH were really tired. So it was a long frustrating evening, but at least Dad and I had a long visit!
posted by Sarah @ 1:14 PM
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