Tuesday, July 27, 2004
We ended up at the urgent care clinic in Prescott Valley, today,
instead of the lab for a blood draw. This morning I again noticed that pinkish tinge in Mom's urine, less than before but clearly there. I wondered last night if her urinary tract infection might not have been completely eradicated because she complained, in the bathroom on her way to bed, that she felt as though she was having some difficulty urinating, although her paper underwear was soaked. I've been hyper-vigilant anyway, since she threw up the last dose of Cipro XR, wondering if maybe the E. Coli might still be crawling around inside her and whether this was the reason that I was continuing to have trouble controlling her blood sugar and her blood pressure. Her temperature, though, has been normal and was this morning but the pink urine told me all I needed to know.
This time we did not, thankfully, spend all day at the clinic. I was able to get through to Mom's attending physician's nurse at the clinic by phone and within minutes of arriving, after a good breakfast and having Mom down her normal (for this period of unusual medication and UTI problems) 48 ounces of morning fluids (the last 16 of which she drank in the car), we were called in and she gave a sample which was not quite yet the color of cranberry juice but on its way. Within 15 minutes the nurse met with us, assured us that the physician would call in a prescription to our pharmacy and we were on our way home, arriving back by 1520 (we'd left the house at 1310). This time the physician prescribed a milder 10 day course of 250 mg Levaquin, one a day. Truthfully, I've been leery of hitting her with mega doses of antibiotics, especially since she's had so many lately, so I am relieved that she's on a lighter, longer dose.
I'm sure that she's anemic. My mind has been racing all day and evening trying decide what to do tomorrow: Take her into the ER here and inform them that I think she needs a blood transfusion; take her in to the lab to have her blood drawn since I'm curious but I know, pretty much, what everything is going to show and that I'm going to get a call from her Mesa PCP saying "bring her down", which I don't want to do, she seems too weak to travel right now; or...I don't know. I've been sorting, like a NORAD computer, through my options and upsetting myself terribly. Finally I decided, well, I'll just wait until morning as Mom suggested (she retired at 2015, exhausted and weak kneed) and see what comes to me then.
She is not in pain. She's confused by her continued weakness. I've become her human walker. She hasn't sunk to the floor anymore since yesterday, though, and is finally getting the hang of allowing me to lend her all my strength. As always, she continues to say she feels good. She even told me after dinner, after I'd practically carried her into the bathroom to change out her underwear and check the condition of her urine (which has already begun to clear) that she feels "100%". A few minutes later she decided to go to bed.
I still don't feel bad about scolding her about her lack of movement in the last few months. Obviously, the major cause of her weakness, right now, is the infection that's running riot throughout her urinary tract combined with her obvious anemia, which, the doctor told me, can be expected since she's probably been bleeding fairly steadily from the urinary tract but at such a low rate that it would have been impossible for me to detect unless I "had a laboratory at home". I'd been worried, as well, that she may be mini-stroking, mentioning to the doctor that her right eye looked a bit more blasted than usual and she seemed foggier. He said, though, he didn't think this was happening, that both could be attributed to her weakness as a result of the fight her body is continuing with her urinary tract infection. He did mention that there is a catch 22 situation with the anemia, as the infection is probably screwing up her kidney functions, which doesn't help her body as it tries to make hemoglobin out of the mega-doses of iron I'm giving her. As well, of course, there has been a good week of days (not sequential) when she has not received her evening dose of iron, either because she was on the Cipro XR or because she wasn't up long enough on a particular day to justify giving her the extra 36 mg so close to the 150 mg. In regard to her refusal to move around for the last few months, though, he was also stern with her, in a strangely grandfatherly way, so, I felt not only vindicated but supported on this score.
I certainly don't want a hospital to get ahold of her again anytime soon, although, if this is necessary I'd rather we be up here. If she needs a transfusion I want to be able to take her home immediately after rather than having doctors crawl all over her trying to scope, needle or radiate her. I'm not interested in discovering any more ways that a hospital can sicken and damage a patient while that patient is "under observation".
I made myself a cup of hot chocolate to settle me down It seems to be working. I've also completely opened myself up to the "prayer" level of healing on my mother's behalf and my own. When I was thoroughly beside myself a few hours ago, unable to settle my mind, I was "saying" that, if this is it, if this is her last illness before the end, let her die tonight and spare her and me the fight if she's on the way out anyway. Since settling down, though, I can recall more than a few times in the last few years when I thought she had only a few more days or weeks, and, well, here we are, continuing the journey.
I asked my mother a couple of times tonight if she was scared, to which she replied, "No," surprised that I'd asked. Then, realizing that the possibility of her imminent death may not scare her (which I understand, the possibility of my death doesn't scare me) I asked her point blank if she felt she might die soon. There I was, practically carrying her down the hall, hoping her knees wouldn't give out before I got her to bed, she was concentrating so hard on moving her feet that she was practically bent double: She looked up at me like I was clearly insane and said, "Of course not, child!"
I'm sleeping in her room tonight. I suggested it carefully, knowing that she normally she resents me even considering this. Tonight, though, because her legs are so shaky, she said, "Maybe that would be a good idea." So, I'm signing off, making my bed on her floor, and closing down the day.
I'm sure there will be more, much more...
...later.
This time we did not, thankfully, spend all day at the clinic. I was able to get through to Mom's attending physician's nurse at the clinic by phone and within minutes of arriving, after a good breakfast and having Mom down her normal (for this period of unusual medication and UTI problems) 48 ounces of morning fluids (the last 16 of which she drank in the car), we were called in and she gave a sample which was not quite yet the color of cranberry juice but on its way. Within 15 minutes the nurse met with us, assured us that the physician would call in a prescription to our pharmacy and we were on our way home, arriving back by 1520 (we'd left the house at 1310). This time the physician prescribed a milder 10 day course of 250 mg Levaquin, one a day. Truthfully, I've been leery of hitting her with mega doses of antibiotics, especially since she's had so many lately, so I am relieved that she's on a lighter, longer dose.
I'm sure that she's anemic. My mind has been racing all day and evening trying decide what to do tomorrow: Take her into the ER here and inform them that I think she needs a blood transfusion; take her in to the lab to have her blood drawn since I'm curious but I know, pretty much, what everything is going to show and that I'm going to get a call from her Mesa PCP saying "bring her down", which I don't want to do, she seems too weak to travel right now; or...I don't know. I've been sorting, like a NORAD computer, through my options and upsetting myself terribly. Finally I decided, well, I'll just wait until morning as Mom suggested (she retired at 2015, exhausted and weak kneed) and see what comes to me then.
She is not in pain. She's confused by her continued weakness. I've become her human walker. She hasn't sunk to the floor anymore since yesterday, though, and is finally getting the hang of allowing me to lend her all my strength. As always, she continues to say she feels good. She even told me after dinner, after I'd practically carried her into the bathroom to change out her underwear and check the condition of her urine (which has already begun to clear) that she feels "100%". A few minutes later she decided to go to bed.
I still don't feel bad about scolding her about her lack of movement in the last few months. Obviously, the major cause of her weakness, right now, is the infection that's running riot throughout her urinary tract combined with her obvious anemia, which, the doctor told me, can be expected since she's probably been bleeding fairly steadily from the urinary tract but at such a low rate that it would have been impossible for me to detect unless I "had a laboratory at home". I'd been worried, as well, that she may be mini-stroking, mentioning to the doctor that her right eye looked a bit more blasted than usual and she seemed foggier. He said, though, he didn't think this was happening, that both could be attributed to her weakness as a result of the fight her body is continuing with her urinary tract infection. He did mention that there is a catch 22 situation with the anemia, as the infection is probably screwing up her kidney functions, which doesn't help her body as it tries to make hemoglobin out of the mega-doses of iron I'm giving her. As well, of course, there has been a good week of days (not sequential) when she has not received her evening dose of iron, either because she was on the Cipro XR or because she wasn't up long enough on a particular day to justify giving her the extra 36 mg so close to the 150 mg. In regard to her refusal to move around for the last few months, though, he was also stern with her, in a strangely grandfatherly way, so, I felt not only vindicated but supported on this score.
I certainly don't want a hospital to get ahold of her again anytime soon, although, if this is necessary I'd rather we be up here. If she needs a transfusion I want to be able to take her home immediately after rather than having doctors crawl all over her trying to scope, needle or radiate her. I'm not interested in discovering any more ways that a hospital can sicken and damage a patient while that patient is "under observation".
I made myself a cup of hot chocolate to settle me down It seems to be working. I've also completely opened myself up to the "prayer" level of healing on my mother's behalf and my own. When I was thoroughly beside myself a few hours ago, unable to settle my mind, I was "saying" that, if this is it, if this is her last illness before the end, let her die tonight and spare her and me the fight if she's on the way out anyway. Since settling down, though, I can recall more than a few times in the last few years when I thought she had only a few more days or weeks, and, well, here we are, continuing the journey.
I asked my mother a couple of times tonight if she was scared, to which she replied, "No," surprised that I'd asked. Then, realizing that the possibility of her imminent death may not scare her (which I understand, the possibility of my death doesn't scare me) I asked her point blank if she felt she might die soon. There I was, practically carrying her down the hall, hoping her knees wouldn't give out before I got her to bed, she was concentrating so hard on moving her feet that she was practically bent double: She looked up at me like I was clearly insane and said, "Of course not, child!"
I'm sleeping in her room tonight. I suggested it carefully, knowing that she normally she resents me even considering this. Tonight, though, because her legs are so shaky, she said, "Maybe that would be a good idea." So, I'm signing off, making my bed on her floor, and closing down the day.
I'm sure there will be more, much more...
...later.
