Monthly Archives: May 2014

Traces – Part I

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Oh the sluggish days                                                                                                           The pensive nights                                                                                                               Where amber eyes appeared out of the darkness in which protruded endless file cabinets containing the live wire tapped emotions

Taking that decrepit road all the way to the front door. And all the while the unanswered prayers littered the roadside, lost dreams cascaded down the hills, empty promises tumbled over the fence lines like the remnants of a forgotten alley.

And when the old hill burned it took the warmth in this town with it, and we all just stood and watched.   Trampled by madness until it became the norm.                                           Mob mentally.          Status quo.

Pride dissolved in vats of acid and fed what remained. Choking streets, filing into buses, shuffling into subways. Eyes wide but nothing is seen, mouths agape but nothing is uttered.

Prefabricated personalities.   Spongy hipsters and gilded divas gather to drown their sorrows and howl at the moon. Discarding respect along with debris. Instantly someone else’s problem.

And it comes up from the floor and out of the walls to entice, entrance and entangle me.   A tantalizing request.      A bitter smile.                                                                                      Staring at the clock until the minute hand turns into glittering silver liquid, drips down the wall and forms the sign of infinity at your feet.

The answer is simple.       But there was never a question.                                                    Tumultuous times.    The American Dream.                                                                              As they line up the middle class in front of a firing squad.

Do you look both ways before crossing the street, meticulous and weary like one of the hollowed eyed lost?  Or turn a blind eye and let destine tug at your sleeve, like a needy child, devoid of attention in an unfamiliar apartment that turns out to be you own? Subjective realities.

It matters not.      Sources for transformation exist.

Our synapses simply cannot connect, for we cling together cling together in glowing, isolated communities like Hoovervilles, scattered across the globe.                                       Hemorrhaging information.

Clinging, tattered, torn

April 2014 (562-592)

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The first weekend of April brought his first real exposure to a cold virus. We had friends visiting and asked our nephew to come help out. He came with a cold, no symptoms at first. By Monday the 7th, Colin had a sore throat. By the start of spring break it had traveled through his sinuses to his chest.

Spring break brought a 5 day visit with his brother. He had a therapy appointment on Tuesday the 15th and Ian met us for dinner. The rest of the week Colin had some bouts with coughing, but never anything serious. He got all the stuff up with minimal assistance. No fever. Oxygen stats all good.  By the weekend his father came for a visit. Saturday night the 19th  night coughing began. All night long. Sometimes he needed he to clear his lungs, sometimes not. Still no fever, his lungs sounded clear and his stats were good. Monday, same. Tuesday he began having trouble. Getting tired, not able to clear well. He cancelled his PT appointment so they discharged him from outpatient physical therapy. Something about needing to see his doctor.  Made me angry to think it took so little for the system to give up on him.

Wednesday he had an appointment with his neurologist. He now had a low grade fever. She tried to get him to go to the ER. We said no, they would just put him on antibiotics and make us miserable for hours. When I got home Wednesday evening D told me the brakes were really bad on the van. We made an appointment to take it in Thursday morning. While I was waiting for the van to be finished, Colin called me in tears. He was so very tired of coughing. He couldn’t take the neuropathy, which was still as bad as ever, plus the coughing. He wanted to go to the ER. I asked if he wanted to go as soon so I got home. He said yes. It would be another 2 hours till the van was done so I am arrangements to miss work, set up to be gone for Friday ad got home by 6 pm. By the he was back in bed, covered with cooling pads and clearing his lungs. He did not want to go in until morning.

By Friday morning he had no fever. We knew if we went into the ER with just a cough, no fever or low stats, they would not prioritize him. We waited all day. We cleared his lungs and tried a BM, unsuccessfully, again. No change until bedtime. His temperature climbed to 99.

Saturday, a small BM. First one in a week. At 7am his temp was 100. At 10 it dropped to 99. By 1 it was back to 100 and his oxygen saturation remained in the mid 80’s.  It was time to go in.

Our timing was perfect. His stats were low with a low grade fever. He waited all of 2 minutes before heading back to an exam room.

He was put on oxygen, given an IV, chest X-ray and blood work. It was all going smoothly. Then the real healthcare system began to interfere.

After about 5 hours of waiting for pain meds, permission to eat and no doctor at all an old coot came in. The doctor.  barely attentive asking Colin what he wanted to do. WTF. He said the X-Ray was clear and he might have pneumonia. He wanted to give us a prescription for antibiotic pills then send us home. What a shocker. Then he hesitated. Said he was going to ask someone and get back to us. Next thing a “specialist” of some kind came in and convinced Colin to remain overnight for observation. They would be putting him on IV antibiotics for a possible bacterial infection of some kind. Who knows what. They has collected every type of specimen. But a culture could not possibly be evident in a few hours. Guess work. She mentioned how dangerous it could be if he went home and stopped breathing or something.  Scared him into staying. He didn’t want to but felt if we didn’t the insurance could find a reason not to pay. So he agreed. He would regret that soon enough.

Within the next 5 hours, we finally got to feed him, I gave him his evening meds without permission. Everyone was passing the decision off so I made it for them. We were told he had a UTI and pneumonia. His urine was pale yellow, clear with no odor.

The lab came in twice more in the ER and a third time once he was in his room at 11:30 pm, to draw the same blood they had done when he came in. We had to tell each one, it was done. Each one called to confirm. The final  all had the receptionist in the lab telling them not to call about his blood work anymore. This is the effective communication in a state of the art tech hospital that has just been upgraded. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on. As if to confirm this, I had written out, in detail, his medication times and dosages. Gave it to the ER nurse. She sent a copy up with him. The floor nurses promptly lost it. His medication times and dosages were completely off from then on. nobody knew he was a quadriplegic, nor how to deal with his disability. I slept on the little couch in his room. We never got the leg pumps we asked for. It took an hour or more to get his suppository for his BM. The IV alarms were going off for too long so I turned down the volume and shut down the channel when the infusion was complete. Like I always say, it the alarms were going on at the nurses station too, it would be much harder for them to ignore.

More breathing treatments, offers to suction by sticking a tube down his throat. 5 rounds of IV antibiotics, still a fever. Sunday morning he coughed for 2 hours without end. He threw up any water he had taken in. During this bout, not a single nurse was around. They would not have known what to do anyway. They even tried to hand him the cup of medications for him to take himself. He finally was able to rest and sleep around 10:30. Still no sign of a doctor, no confirmed diagnosis. Just a shoot to kill approach without aiming.

As soon as we got into the room he was apologizing for coming in. I told him we needed to make sure his lungs were ok. Since arriving on the floor, no one mentioned the UTI again. They did however treat him as if he had the never confirmed by a single lab result resistant staph. We tried to tell them there were no confirmed lab results from his stay at Regional. They would not listen. Tried to get me to put on the stupid yellow shit and mask. Never going to happen without a confirmation lab result. They took some nasal swabs to check for it. Be interesting to see if we ever get results from that.

So now we wait for the chance to see a doctor. I want to tell this person we need to go home. He gets better care, keep his meds on schedule, be in a comfortable environment. Nobody at home will barge into his room in the middle of the night, turn on al the lights and talk so loud it makes his ears ache. We will take the antibiotics at home. We just want to get the fuck out of here. Noon. Still no doctor, no information.

Doctor finally came in around 2. He offered little information but we gleaned he had not looked at any labs and talked about discharging him. I told him he would get more consistent care at home and I would administer any meds, even injections. He took the information then left to go look for lab results. We saw nobody for the rest of the day. Nurse showed up for medications and food came in. Nothing else. we cleared his lungs throughout the day and we both rested.

My husband came around about 8:30 to pick me up. I made sure Colin was fed, comfortable and med dosages were correct. We left around 9:30, went home where I got a shower, then sleep.

Up at 6 to stop by the hospital be fore work. D arrived shortly after. I told him to make sure to get some lab results.  They never got any. Apparently the physician told D to tell “Dr. Mom” there was nothing to worry about. Dr. Mom??  Goddamn right, motherfucker.

The hope was Colin would be discharged later in the day. At 2 D texted me that they were getting the discharge orders and would be by to pick me up by 3. We dropped D off at the hospital lot where his truck was and went home. Colin promptly went to bed and slept for about 3 hours. A good thing since the syringe antibiotics that were prescribed for the next few days we not stocked in any pharmacy and had a 5 day wait time. I called the hospital. The doctor called back and said since there was no actual bacterial infection (i.e. lab results all negative) he only had to take the pills. Colin woke up had some soup, then another coughing fit. He threw up some of his dinner but kept most of it down. He was exhausted and slept most of the night.

The finally few days of April were much the same. Coughing, clearing, weakness. I had him stay in bed on Tuesday the 29th so he felt stronger on the 30th. April we fought his first cold, wound up in the hospital. We learned from that experience so hopefully then next one won’t take so long and won’t send us back to the hospital.