Sunday, June 20, 2004
Blood Drunk
Rather like a confirmed alcoholic, my mother began to evidence symptoms of being blood drunk (my phrase) before the transfusion began. She was extremely feisty about being in the hospital. Even more feisty about the transfusion. I had to explain several times why it was necessary in order for her to agree to it. I handled her with as much assertiveness, at least, as I handled the nurses and doctors in ER consulting on my mother's case. At one point she had "memories", in front of a physician, of having had a past transfusion. When she identified the time as "a few years ago", though "less than 10", I reminded her that I'd been with her for 10 years and she hadn't had a transfusion while I'd been with her. The point of her 'memory' was a rowdy retelling of having walked out on that past transfusion. She relented when I pulled MPOA rank and insisted on the transfusion.
Once the transfusion had been completed her energy peaked just as two of my sisters and our yardman assured me it would. She certainly looked robust, more than I've seen her since the fall of 2000, since she began treatment for adult onset diabetes (type 2). Although she didn't try any Jack Lalane stunts she refused the use of a bed pan, thus necessitating the "choice" of a catheter, then, because the balloon inside her bladder took some time to settle, spent several hours on 6/9/04 insisting that she had to visit the bathroom. That day, 6/9/04, I slept through a few hours of the transfusion from 0900 - 1300 and was back at the hospital by 1400. When I arrived she'd slept off the enforced bed rest of the transfusion.
At first she looked and sounded very alert. She immediately took me into her confidence: "I've had this idea I've been working out while you were sleeping," she said.
Ah, I thought. She knows where I've been and has been anticipating my arrival. This is new. "Really," I encouraged. "Tell me about it."
"I think we should build two small houses, make sure we build them exactly as we like, then connect them with a tunnel."
"Welllll," I stammered, "not a bad idea. Who would do the building?"
"I would."
"And I'd dig the tunnel."
"Yes!"
Apparently I'd understood perfectly. "Not a bad idea," I agreed, wondering how long her inebriation was going to last.
"We've got enough land," she assured me. I assumed she was talking about our Prescott property.
"How small are these houses going to be?"
"Oh, small," she said, miming dollhouse size.
"We'd have to check with zoning. Our property is an odd size, you know, and narrows to the northwest."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," and she was off on her next idea: That we certainly needed a dog. That one is closer to reality, actually, although requires some negotiation.
Had I had the time to write earlier I probably would have written about a variety of what seemed, for three days after her transfusion, like miraculous blasts of energy. She expressed renewed interest in crossword puzzling, an interest that continues. She noticed we hadn't kept up with her tabloids. She expressed an interest in the walker she inherited. She dropped back, though, during MPS's and her daughter's visit, from Sunday through Tuesday. Slept a lot. Didn't want to go out much. I was nervous about the blood draw taken on Monday. I finally decided, when I received the results on Tuesday, to up her iron to the power of 4 and change the type. Still, she's been sleeping a lot.
Today it was impossible to get her out of bed until almost 1500. I haven't been taking regular measurements of anything, just guessing and keeping to her medication schedule as long as she's up. Yesterday I got 4 doses of iron in. Today I think I'll be able to administer only 3. She has had no problems with feet/ankle swelling. Her color is almost artificially good although I can't determine if she's white or peach beneath the ruddiness. She's been riveted to the cable food network, to which our day company introduced my mother, on exactly the right weekend, the "wedding weekend".
I, too, have taken advantage of the lazy day. I finally figured out that perhaps I could get a nap in early this afternoon and it worked. Not a long one, but very deep. Quite refreshing.
I wish tomorrow was going to be Sunday. I'm not quite ready for the business I need to do tomorrow but I think I'll be okay.
We have yet another blood draw scheduled for Tuesday. I'm not nervous about it, just curious. I think blood drunkeness is no longer a factor. I think, as well, that the increased iron is already helping her blood rebuild itself. I'm detecting only a touch of maroon around the corners of her lips. Her nail beds remain pink. Her feet are warm. She's resumed daily bowel movements without accidents. We're going to begin walker practice tomorrow. She's been very accomodating about staying on oxygen. I think things are beginning to look up.
Once the transfusion had been completed her energy peaked just as two of my sisters and our yardman assured me it would. She certainly looked robust, more than I've seen her since the fall of 2000, since she began treatment for adult onset diabetes (type 2). Although she didn't try any Jack Lalane stunts she refused the use of a bed pan, thus necessitating the "choice" of a catheter, then, because the balloon inside her bladder took some time to settle, spent several hours on 6/9/04 insisting that she had to visit the bathroom. That day, 6/9/04, I slept through a few hours of the transfusion from 0900 - 1300 and was back at the hospital by 1400. When I arrived she'd slept off the enforced bed rest of the transfusion.
At first she looked and sounded very alert. She immediately took me into her confidence: "I've had this idea I've been working out while you were sleeping," she said.
Ah, I thought. She knows where I've been and has been anticipating my arrival. This is new. "Really," I encouraged. "Tell me about it."
"I think we should build two small houses, make sure we build them exactly as we like, then connect them with a tunnel."
"Welllll," I stammered, "not a bad idea. Who would do the building?"
"I would."
"And I'd dig the tunnel."
"Yes!"
Apparently I'd understood perfectly. "Not a bad idea," I agreed, wondering how long her inebriation was going to last.
"We've got enough land," she assured me. I assumed she was talking about our Prescott property.
"How small are these houses going to be?"
"Oh, small," she said, miming dollhouse size.
"We'd have to check with zoning. Our property is an odd size, you know, and narrows to the northwest."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," and she was off on her next idea: That we certainly needed a dog. That one is closer to reality, actually, although requires some negotiation.
Had I had the time to write earlier I probably would have written about a variety of what seemed, for three days after her transfusion, like miraculous blasts of energy. She expressed renewed interest in crossword puzzling, an interest that continues. She noticed we hadn't kept up with her tabloids. She expressed an interest in the walker she inherited. She dropped back, though, during MPS's and her daughter's visit, from Sunday through Tuesday. Slept a lot. Didn't want to go out much. I was nervous about the blood draw taken on Monday. I finally decided, when I received the results on Tuesday, to up her iron to the power of 4 and change the type. Still, she's been sleeping a lot.
Today it was impossible to get her out of bed until almost 1500. I haven't been taking regular measurements of anything, just guessing and keeping to her medication schedule as long as she's up. Yesterday I got 4 doses of iron in. Today I think I'll be able to administer only 3. She has had no problems with feet/ankle swelling. Her color is almost artificially good although I can't determine if she's white or peach beneath the ruddiness. She's been riveted to the cable food network, to which our day company introduced my mother, on exactly the right weekend, the "wedding weekend".
I, too, have taken advantage of the lazy day. I finally figured out that perhaps I could get a nap in early this afternoon and it worked. Not a long one, but very deep. Quite refreshing.
I wish tomorrow was going to be Sunday. I'm not quite ready for the business I need to do tomorrow but I think I'll be okay.
We have yet another blood draw scheduled for Tuesday. I'm not nervous about it, just curious. I think blood drunkeness is no longer a factor. I think, as well, that the increased iron is already helping her blood rebuild itself. I'm detecting only a touch of maroon around the corners of her lips. Her nail beds remain pink. Her feet are warm. She's resumed daily bowel movements without accidents. We're going to begin walker practice tomorrow. She's been very accomodating about staying on oxygen. I think things are beginning to look up.
