Tonight, I'd planned on telling you one of my funny stories. Heaven knows that my family has a ton of them. Instead, tonight I'm concerned about my MIL.
A couple of months ago we went through a round of ER visits, hospital stays and general panic. You see, when MIL goes to the ER, she usually stays in the hospital for a few days. While this sounds good, it isn't. In the hospital she gets very, very confused. So confused that the first time this happened, we thought she must have had a stroke. Luckily, not so. However, she was not rational either. She cannot distinguish between the assisted living facility and the hospital. Between the ER and the assisted living facility, yes; but not between a hospital room and the assisted living apartment.
For the first hospital stay she was scared and angry. Anger has been one of the hardest things for us to handle because it took us so long to realize that anger is just fear with a mask on. That she really isn't trying to be difficult but she doesn't understand the situation. We reassured her that no one had stolen her room and that no one had taken her things. Luckily, she believed us.
Fast forward through several more trips to the ER in a very short amount of time. The family started discussing a nursing home instead of the assisted living facility. This was tough on all of us. The idea was for MIL to get better, not worse. Luckily, the doctor happened to be at the AL facility during a new attack that would have sent MIL back to the ER yet again (and would have sealed her fate for the nursing home). After seeing her exact difficulties the doctor was able to adjust her medications to get her condition back under control.
Fantastic news, right? Sort of.
The doctor warned us that we had reached 'the kitchen sink'. Starting from that day he was giving her everything he could for her condition. If (when?) she worsened again, there is no additional medication, no more rabbits from a hat. Hmm. Ok, not such good news.
It's been somewhere between a month and six weeks since we received this diagnosis. Everytime she has a bad day, I mentally hold my breath. Each time, she has pulled through. All is good. Today, I'm not so certain. I am again holding my breath.
This time MIL has two issues. First is a wound that has gotten infected. If you look at my MIL's legs harshly the skin will break so you can imagine what happens when she actually bumps into something. The wound had been healing well for a few days but then it started to hurt and now the infection. The doctor has put her on an antibodic which will hopefully clear this up.
In addition to the wound she is having breathing problems today. Breathing problems are a double edged sword for MIL. First, she is tired and does not want to take her nebulizer. Second, she cannot breath when taking the nebulizer. Huh? See she is short of breath and the oxygen comes in through a tube under her nose. She cannot breath better unless she takes a 20 minute breathing treatment through her mouth. See the problem? She needs every breath through her nose to maintain but must have the medicine through her mouth. Today I managed to coax her into taking about half of her medicine, then I looked away to do something. When I turned back she had dumped the rest on the floor. Nebulizer over.
Since she takes the nebulizer several times a day I'm hopeful that the next one will be taken in full but just in case I notified the nurse on staff to have someone watch her take her medicine.
Tonight I am worried about her but I have been worried, much more worried before. Hopefully there will be no 2:00am phone call.
Hopefully tomorrow she will be filled full of mischief again and driving me nuts. I hope so.
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