Ponderings of a Middle-Aged Mom: hospital

Showing posts with label hospital. Show all posts

Pain in the. . .

I started having pain in my chest Thursday afternoon.

I didn't really think anything of it. But it stuck around.

I didn't say anything to anyone. Although Randall could tell something was up.

I went to bed. And got up Friday morning with the pain still there.

It hadn't moved and it hadn't gotten any worse. It also hadn't gotten any better.

By then I was worrying a little. . .

Randall had just been at the hospital for chest pains. . . Was I next in line for a heart attack?

I look at Randall. . .

"I might have to go to the hospital later on."

He looks at me, concern in his eyes and asks why.

"I've been having pain in my chest since yesterday evening."

He has a look of shock on his face.

He gives me shit for not saying anything sooner.

Needless to say, after some hemming and hawing on my part, I did go to the hospital Friday night. Late, late Friday night.

There was no waiting. They took me right back.

An IV was given.

Blood was taken.

An EKG was done.

Blood tests came back. . . Heart enzymes were normal.

EKG was normal.

But the blood test for blood clots? Came back a little off. Not horribly off. But off enough that a CAT scan was ordered.

After everything was said and done, there was no blood clot either.

The pain in my chest is caused by unknown sources.

But it isn't my heart and it isn't my lungs and it isn't a blood clot.

Pulled muscle? Maybe.

Inflammation of the lining of my lung? Maybe.

Just old age pain? Maybe.

A diagnosis wasn't given.

I was told to take some ibuprofen and that if the pain did start to get any worse? To come back in.

I have felt better today. Still a little pain but nothing like it was the last two days.

No clue what it was. . .

But it sure did give me a scare.

This IV hurt like a bitch

Long Night, Hard Day

It has been a long week.

A long week of Randall getting sick.

Every single night.

And every single night I have asked him if he wants to go to the hospital. And every single night he has said that he is OK.

And he is. Until he eats something and his stomach decides it doesn't feel like processing the food he has given it. So his stomach gives it back.

Last night was a long night.

Randall started getting sick late in the evening.

I told him he should go to the hospital.

He responded with he was fine.

This continued ALL night.

Finally at 6am, he decided he needed to go. After seeing that his meds were not going to help control the nausea.

He hates going to the hospital. And I understand why. The doctors there treat him as though he is lying about how he feels.

If I was treated that way every time I went? I wouldn't want to go either.

So I had a long night with very little sleep and now Randall is at the hospital. Hopefully they can treat him and make him feel better.

He might end up being admitted. I am not sure. It will all depend on the doctor and how he responds to the meds that are given to him.

Please send prayers, positive vibes & thoughts, good juju and whatever else you can think of so that he feels better soon.

It is greatly appreciated.

Life Got in the Way

I was going to write about the other day when Kaylee was outside playing. Talk about something she came across.

It will have to wait.

Life got in the way.

My father-in-law just took Randall to the hospital.

Gastroparesis kicking him in the ass yet again.

Sadly, I had a feeling this would happen today.

Randall just had that look about him when he woke up.

I hate when my intuitions are correct.

Now my stomach is in knots.

Kaylee is upset.

I cried. Kaylee cried.

And Randall is at the ER.

Hopefully he will be treated well.

Hopefully he won't have to be admitted.

Hopefully he will be home in a few hours.

Comfortable Silence

I went to see Randall today. {Yes, he is back in the hospital, again}

It was a good visit. I hadn't seen him since he had been admitted Friday night.

We talked about a few things. Talked about his Dad. Talked about the dispatching we do. Talked about me getting a job once I am able to get a valid ID. Talked about other various things.

But the best thing? Was being able to sit in comfortable silence. I wrapped myself up in it like it was a warm, cozy blanket. It was nice. I held his hand and sat there. Loving the time I had with him.

When it came time for me to leave, he stood up and gave me a hug. To have his arms around me, to have that comfort... Felt so good.

And in that moment? I cracked. The armor that I have been wearing for months now, broke into pieces. Before I could pick the pieces up, he noticed. And was instantly asking what was wrong.

I could not give him an answer because truthfully, I didn't have any idea as to why I cracked. I thought I had gotten pretty good at holding it all in until I could have a few moments to myself. Apparently, I have not yet become a master of those emotions.

But I finally got it pulled together, gave him a kiss, told him I loved him and left. While I was standing at the bus stop I lost it again. Not bad. But bad enough when you're out in public. I got myself together before I embarrassed myself.

So I have spent my day being an emotional wreck.

Tomorrow will be better.

Worried Bitchiness

I am beside myself with worry.

I have been trying to keep Randall's being sick off of here simply because there is only so much I can say about it without it becoming monotonous.

But I have to vent. I have to.

Randall started getting sick on Monday. Out of nowhere. Nausea, vomiting, all the normal stuff.

I asked him several times if he wanted/needed to go to the hospital. He replied "No" every time. He kept saying that it wasn't the usual stuff. He said it felt like the flu. Which I was totally inclined to believe because he was fevered. So very, very fevered.

I did not sleep but maybe two hours Monday night. He tossed and turned and puked. And he was fevered. He was nothing but sweat. And would seek me out and try to snuggle with me. There is nothing in this world like having a cold, clammy and simultaneously sweaty man touch you.

Tuesday the vomiting stopped. He was able to sleep. He woke up in the evening still feeling bad but feeling better than he had been feeling. He could hold down water. Even drank some chicken broth.

I thought all was well with the world. I really should have known better. I should know better than to let my guard down so easily.

Because once again, Wednesday morning it all started again. I asked and asked and asked if he wanted to go to the hospital.

By the evening I was begging. I was in tears.

I was mean. No, I was an all out bitch.

At one point I stood over him trying to get him dressed and said to him, "I CAN NOT DO THIS ANY MORE! I AM DONE. FUCK THIS AND FUCK YOU! I. AM. DONE! I have been strong since Monday but I can not keep it up. PLEASE GO TO THE HOSPITAL. PLEASE?"

I felt like a complete asshole.

You wouldn't understand if you're not living in the moment. And I wouldn't wish this experience on my worst enemy.

If he would just go to the hospital when it all starts, it might not be so bad. But he will wait and wait and wait until he is so weak that he can barely walk.

And that isn't fair. It causes harm to him and mental anguish to his family.

Don't take this the wrong way. I love him. I love him more than anything. It just gets really hard to deal with. Especially when it is week in and week out like it has been since before Christmas.

I know I have complained a lot about the in-laws. A lot. But I am thankful that FIL was here to take Randall to the hospital. When I am as angry as I was last night? I am no good at the hospital. I am full of attitude and bitchiness. Randall didn't need that. He needed someone who was calm and collected. Someone who could fight for him if it was needed and not end up in jail.

I could not physically bring myself to even offer to go. I helped him to get dressed. I helped him up. He told me he loved me and they were gone.

Randall was admitted, again. And once again, I have no clue how long he will be there.

I know I sound like a broken record. But I will selfishly ask if you will say a prayer for him. Please?

Ten Thought Tuesday

Random Tuesday thoughts from yours truly:

10. Randall was released from the hospital yesterday afternoon. He wanted to come home so badly. After he got home, he says to me "I don't think I they should have let me out."

Wait... WHAT?!?!

This man called me and complained ALL DAY Sunday that he wanted to go home. And the doctor was an ass because he wouldn't let Randall come home... Blah, blah, blah.

It really is no wonder that I am worried all the time.

9. I weighed myself yesterday morning... Lost 3 more pounds!

YAY ME!

8. Soon I will have to break down and buy new pants. The ones I wear now are even loose with a belt. Pretty sure I look odd hiking my pants up as I walk.

7. I am still playing Ice Fairy... I'm going to start charging people by the cube.

6. There is a house nearby that is going up for auction later this month. You have no clue how bad I wish we could buy this house... The yearning I have for my own place is overwhelming at times.

5. I feel a little down.

4. I'm trying not to show it.

3. It isn't working so well.

2. *Crickets*

1. Hate when my mind goes blank. I have so much shit floating around in my head that it's hard to concentrate on one specific item...

Late Night Munchies

It is 2am, Sunday morning.

I am sitting here drinking a Coke (Yes, Oka I have joined you on the dark side! Hee hee!) and eating pizza rolls.

What?

I have the late night munchies. When I start bitching about not losing any weight or I start bitching about gaining back some of what I lost? Remind me about my late night snacking. Please.

So I am sitting here eating my tasty snack and just thinking. Come along, won't you?

Why the hell am I the only person in this house who can empty the ice cube trays into the ice cube bucket and then fill the ice cube trays with water and then stick them back into the freezer?

Just because I bought the damn things does not make me solely responsible for the production of ice. I am not the fucking ice fairy. Although I think everybody thinks one exists.

Might have to put a stop to that.

I went to see Randall yesterday evening. He is feeling better though he is far from being 100%. He is in hopes of being released sometime today. I told him to not get his hopes up. I guess we'll see what happens.

Out of boredom I painted my nails. I never, ever paint my nails, ever. So that has to tell you something. Weird thing? I kinda like it. Might be something that sticks around.

A friend repaid a loan of $15 with a ten dollar bill and a roll of dimes. I cracked up on the inside. Then felt kinda sad. But then looked on the bright side. Change is money too and it will get spent on something. Will probably put it in my change jar and save it for tight times. I am a hoarder that way.

Late night infomercials crack me up. Right now? I am watching one for a little machine that helps get rid of hair. You know, leg hair, arm hair, underarm hair, facial hair. All the hair that you might want rid of, it is surely to remove it! Except maybe the hair down there. I think it uses lasers of some sort... Really don't think you want to use a laser on your nether regions. But I could be wrong... It's called No! No! Hair. It looks like some kind of battery powered electrolysis machine. I can only imagine the amount of batteries I would have to go through to use this thing on my legs.

My opinion on this little hair removal system? No! No! Thank you! Although it has to be better than the epilady from years ago. I didn't see ripping out of hair with No! No!. But it did have a weird little buffer thing that came with it.

The crazy things that people will buy.

So I guess maybe I should try sleeping. Sunday promises to be an interesting day.

Keeping my fingers crossed that Randall comes home but trying not to get my hopes up at the same time.

I am weird. But you knew that already.

Hey!?!

Who ate all my pizza rolls?

Have a spectacular Sunday!

Shadows

Yesterday was not a good day. At all.

Randall started getting sick early in the morning. And it got worse as the day progressed.

So his illness is hitting him like it did over the summer. A few days in the hospital and a few days at home.

His Dad took him to the ER at about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. I was glad. Not saying that I didn't want to be there, I did. But I don't think I could have handled it this time around. Watching him be so sick, especially in the ER, takes something out of me. It fucks me up. So I was glad to have a break from it this one time.

Didn't mean that I didn't worry any less though.

Time moved slowly and I was dreading going to pick Kaylee up from school. I really thought she would be OK with me telling her that her Daddy had to go back to the hospital. God, was I wrong.

I am always honest with her. So I told her as soon as we walked out of school.

She started crying. Big huge tears streaming down her face.

It was truly heartbreaking. I wrapped her up in a hug. As we walked home.

Today, I went to visit Randall. He had a rough night.

He looked like hell. Pale with dark, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a shadow of himself.

He was surprised to see me. I had talked to him on the phone and he had told me not to come. Told me that he didn't want me to see him like he was. That only made me want to see him more.

He slept the majority of the time I was there. Watching him sleep was peaceful. He looked peaceful-- on the outside. On the inside I know there is hurt and pain and turmoil.

During one of his little naps, I eye-spied a small pad of paper and a pen sitting on his table. I grabbed it and started writing him a note.

I love you! Please feel better soon... You have prayers and positive vibes coming from all over the place! Please be strong. Feel the strength in me & use it to help you heal.

Love You Always & Forever,
Your Babydoll

I didn't stay long, not like I usually do. A little over an hour. I didn't want to leave but he really wasn't up to visitors.

I gathered up my things, gave him kisses and left.

I hate leaving him. I feel like I leave a piece of me there with him every time.

Not sure when he will be released. I will keep you posted.

His Home Away From Home...

OK, I just need to take a few minutes and vent.

Hope you don't mind...

Had to take Randall to the hospital again this evening. He started throwing up this morning, early, and continued to do so all day long. I asked him several times if he wanted to go to the hospital. He declined.

It angered me. It angered me that he was being so damn stubborn.

He caught me napping sometime during the morning and went and laid on the couch, in the living room, where Kaylee was up and watching TV.

He continued to throw up. He scared the shit out of Kaylee.

This pissed me off when I woke and discovered that he had not been in bed for quite a while.

I yelled at him.

I feel bad about it now. But in the moment I was beyond angry. Why the fuck would you put your baby girl through something like that?

I am scared shitless that she will end up being scarred from all of this.

Anyway...

After vomiting for 7 hours pretty much non-stop, he decided that he was ready to go to the hospital. Of course he was too weak for us to get him out to the car. FIL called 911.

I forgot to mention that due to all the vomiting and him being unable to keep anything down, he was passing out. That is always fun. Especially when it happens right in front of your child.

There is nothing I hate to hear more than Kaylee screaming out, "DADDY!!!".

The fear in her voice breaks my heart. And while I am trying to reassure her that he is OK, I am trying to not freak out myself. It's not easy to do.

We get to the ER, get into a room and wait 30 minutes for a doctor to come in. Doctor comes in and says she has been looking over Randall's chart and sees that he has been there several times in the past for the same thing and tells him that she will not give him pain meds of any sort because it has been marked in his chart that he only comes in looking for pain meds. But she will be more than happy to give him something for nausea.

I was pissed. I wanted to say so many things to this lady and did not. Randall tried to fight for himself but gave up. He felt that damn bad.

Weirdly enough, 10 minutes later, another doctor came in to see Randall. I talked to this doctor. I explained to this doctor that Randall is in pain 24/7. That he has pain all the time but that when he goes on a vomiting spree like today that it makes the pain 100 times worse. I explained that when he is as bad as he is, he is admitted and given IV nausea and pain meds. That controlling the pain will help to control the nausea and vomiting. I thought this doctor was actually going to 'get it'. I thought he understood. I thought he would help.

I am here to tell you that the whole time Randall was in the ER, a whole five and a half hours he never received any pain meds. He continued to vomit even with Zofran for nausea.

At one point, as Randall was throwing up, he looked at me and said, "I give up. I. give. up. I can't do this any more. I can't go on like this."

Do you know what it's like to hear the one you love tell you that they quit?

Do you know what it's like to hear him cry for someone to help him.

It's discouraging. It's scary. It's sad.

I cried. I couldn't help it.

To see him begging for help...

To hear him cry...

It broke my heart.

So I am worried and scared.

Scared that no matter how much I love him and tell him to fight that he might give up. Give up and leave Kaylee and I here, alone.

So I will ask, as I always selfishly do, if you will say a prayer for Randall?

Maybe send a positive thought or two his way?

Cross your fingers and toes that he will wake up in the morning feeling better?

Please?

I Just Knew

I am exhausted.

Beyond exhausted actually. But that's what happens when you spend the night in the ER.

Randall was sick yesterday. It started early in the morning. He took a nap and seemed OK when he woke up in the afternoon. Then, at dinner, all hell broke loose.

We had Subway. He didn't even finish his sandwich. I could tell by looking at him that he was going to vomit. We have been down this road so many times in the past, I just knew.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, he was in the bathroom. And it just got worse from there.

By 11pm I was begging him to go to the hospital. He kept telling me he was fine.

I just knew.

After the 10th time he went running to the bathroom, he was ready to go.

So we got dressed and headed off to the ER. We got there just a little bit after midnight.

After waiting two and a half hours, with Randall stumbling to the bathroom to vomit and passing out in his chair from the stress of all the vomiting, he was taken back.

From here on out, I spent most of my time pretty pissed off.

Usually, when he is taken back they immediately give him an IV and get anti-nausea and pain meds going to try and make him comfortable. Not this time.

The ER doc was the mousy brown haired, nerdy type and she would not give him an IV. She instead offered him shots. A shot of dilaudid in his arm and a shot of nausea medicine in his hip. These did nothing for him. As a matter of fact, he vomited more.

Two hours later {for a running total of 4 hours, 2 in the waiting room and 2 actually being seen} she gives in and orders an IV to be put in. He gets Zofran for the nausea. She refuses to give him pain meds through his IV. She will only give him pills, which he keeps throwing up. In a round about way, she is saying that he is seeking pain meds, she orders everything but IV pain meds.

Now I can understand where she is coming from. But if the patient is in pain, and pills are not working, especially since said patient is vomiting, wouldn't it be better for everyone all around to give meds by IV?

Isn't their main goal to make the patient as comfortable as possible?

Unfortunately, after all his visits this summer, the ER has pretty much labeled him as a drug seeker. They do not understand that he is in constant pain from the gastroparesis but that when he starts vomiting and it gets as severe as it did last night, his pain becomes unbearably worse. The more pain he has the more he vomits. It is a vicious, vicious cycle.

Back to the hospital...

After the DR came in and said she would order an IV for him, we didn't see her the rest of the night. The nurse came and went a few times. From about 6am to 7:15am, we seen no one. Well I seen no one, Randall was sleeping here and there. By 7:30 a new nurse popped in, saying that she was taking over from the night shift and informed us that Randall would be admitted.

Wait... What?

This was something that could have been told to us a long time ago. By the night shift nurse. Surely this knowledge was bestowed upon her before she clocked out and left...

Stupid, inconsiderate people.

"Do you want me to stay until they take you to your room, babe?", I ask. Because as much as I want to remain there, I need to go home too. I am sore. I am tired. I have had enough of the hospital.

"No Babydoll. You can head on home. You don't have to stay." He is barely awake.

I am not sure he even really knows what is going on.

I grab my stuff and kiss him several times on the head. I tear up because it hurts my heart to see him lying there so helpless and sick.

I tell him I love him and I leave.

It was a long night. A long night that I ended up biting my tongue.

But I knew it would end like it did.

I just knew.

Randall and the Hospital

Irritated seems to be the way for me to be lately.

Randall had a DR appointment yesterday afternoon. Was supposed to be no big deal. Just a follow up from the last time that he was in the hospital, which was ALMOST a month ago.

The DR is getting ready to let us go and Randall decides to tell her that he has had a cold the last 2 weeks, has had tightness in his chest, wheeziness and a "productive" cough. He is worried that he may have pneumonia.

I get a bad feeling instantly.

She listens to his chest. She pokes around on his belly. She leaves the room and leaves us hanging for at least 10 minutes. She comes back and says that she feels he should go to the ER to have an EKG and blood work done, she doesn't have the resources to do any of that there in the office. She felt that with the tightness and pain/achyness in his chest that he could be having issues with his heart (he had a heart attack in June 2009 and also had 2 stents placed in his heart). She is under the impression that tests will be run and if everything is OK, he will be able to come home. She tells us that she will call the ER and let them know that we are on our way and wanted to know how long it would be before we got there.

So we leave, run home, make sure Kaylee got home from school OK (she had after school program), tell the in-laws whats going on, let Randall grab a bite to eat and then we are on our way.

We get to the ER, Randall checks in and in a matter of minutes he is whisked to the back. The ER doc was talking to Randall's PCP on the phone. He walks in and talks with Randall for a few minutes and then informs us that Randall won't be leaving the hospital tonight.

I go into an instant panic. I try my best to keep my composure. I didn't want to cry in front of the hospital staff. Unfortunately, I don't think I succeeded.

Last time I talked to Randall, he had finally been moved to a room and was resting comfortably. His first set of blood tests had come back OK, no signs of abnormalities. If the rest of his tests come back the same, he will be released Tuesday morning. I am PRAYING that everything turns out OK...

Keep him in your thoughts and prayers, please?