Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

We are, finally, home, from the hospital ordeal. Bob resting comfortably. Me -- finally getting some needed rest, too!

I tell you, I had to shake my head at the many well intentioned folks who told me to "take this opportunity" (while Bob was hospitalized) "to get some rest". ha! Sometimes, I tell you, there is a HUGE disconnect between folks who are caregivers and those who are not. Especially with folks who (through no fault of their own) have never dealt with a person with a language disorder such as aphasia. To leave Bob in the care of others who will not/cannot understand him, and to leave Bob to "fend for himself" especially when he is sick, is nothing short of flirting with disaster. I mean, this is the guy who will say "yes" when he means "no", and cannot tell someone his name or birthdate or even clearly voice his wants or needs or concerns...

aaah...

So my job this past week was not so much "caregiver" as "body guard". To make sure no mistakes were made, and Bob's needs were met and he got better and then, safely home.

I tell you, I think playing hospital body guard is a lot more draining then normal caregiving... Always on my toes, stuck sitting in a rock hard chair in a cramped hospital room, every muscle in my body aching after a few days, not being able to leave the room for more than a few minutes because a doctor might appear at that exact moment I depart. And of course, Bob won't be able to tell me what the doctor said or did...

And, by the by, where do these hospitals get these darn uncomfortable chairs? From the Prison Supply Store?

I swear...

Anyway, this past week, I caught one mistake after another, including the doctor who wrote an order to remove Bob's Fentanyl pain patches, but FORGOT to write an order for new patches to replace them -- and I'm thinking, what??!! Are they trying to throw Bob into withdrawals on top everything else??? And another incident where I walked into the room (after running out for a Coke) to find a scrub clad person with a stretcher in tow asking Bob if his name was "Allen" and Bob saying "yes".  Good Lord.  Good thing I got back in time to catch that, before Bob was carted off for God-knows-what procedure he didn't need...

Then there was the doctor who wanted Bob sent, not home, but to a Rehab facility. Because, she said, I wouldn't be able to care for him at home "in his condition".  So, of course, I told her that he's been in "his condition" for four years now, and he's been home the whole time and it ain't been a problem yet --- geez

And then there's the PT who came to evaluate and "clear" Bob to go home "independently" and actually brought a standard walker in the room.  A walker???!!! GA!!! She told me, outright, that she couldn't send him home until he was on his feet, taking steps! And I am, of course, arguing that he couldn't walk before he was hospitalized, so what makes her think he should be walking now??? And thank God I was there, before she attempted to yank him out of bed and stand him up with that thing.

Jeepers...

Then there was the nurse who was so confused because the doctor had written an order for "PO" meds (by mouth) and the chart said NPO (nothing by mouth) and he was unsure what to do....

And the OT who wanted to help teach Bob how to "eat his lunch" ---

and I could go on and on. But believe me, Bob needs a body guard when he's hospitalized....

I'm glad to be home. Bob's safe and sound and very tired. And I'm very tired too.

We now have a nebulizer for breathing treatments and they are supposed to send some kind of suctioning machine today (yum) and we'll have twice weekly nursing visits and more doctors appointments and ....

I'm going get some well deserved rest!