Visit To Bill Cancelled Today Because of COVID

 

Bill's favorite knee warming throw (the one I took up to him today)

This morning I received a call from Bill asking me where I was. I told him I was on my way to visit him.

I had packed his favorite Archie Bunker sweater (a raggedy sweater that never makes an appearance outside our home),

Bill's favorite sweater (a raggedy Archie Bunker sweater) - he LOVES that sweater, he has it now. I hope they let him wear it

Bill's soft warm throw that he uses when he sits in the sun room, pureed butternut squash soup, shredded cabbage, carrots and potato mix that I make for him and he so loves, and Hershey's Kandy Kisses (that he loves to melt in his mouth), and also more replacement batteries for his hearing aid. 

This is Sunday so the traffic was light up Route One but of course wouldn't you know it I missed the exit and ended up taking the long way in through downtown Dover. Yesterday I took the Expressway that took me right into the rehab facility where Bill is staying.

On this cold (28 degrees) and sunny Sunday I arrived at the other end of the rehab unit. I backed my car in the parking slot, expecting to spend another two plus hours with Bill. I gathered my tote bag full of goodies I brought up for Bill and entered the lobby. I told the receptionist I was her to visit Bill.  She said "Are you authorized?" I told her I was there yesterday and they sent me right up. She said "You have to be authorized or else I get into trouble."  I understood her position but I had that sinking feeling that I wouldn't get to see Bill. I was sick to my stomach. I asked her to check with her superior.  She asked me to have a seat in the lobby and she would check. Fifteen minutes went by and nothing. I went up to her again and ask if she had heard.  She said she would send her superior an e-mail.  An e-mail?  I asked if she could call Bill's room so I could talk to him. Maybe I could talk to his nurse.  She gave me his direct number, Bill has a phone right next to his bed.  He answered but he was struggling with something.  He said he was trying to "put on his pants."  I had brought his clothes up to him yesterday. Maybe they were trying to dress him. He was really struggling on the phone and was in the middle of this thing they were trying to get him to do. 

I don't think Bill can move that much. Even though he was sitting in his chair yesterday but I didn't see him get into that chair. When his nurse asked him if he wanted to try and get into the wheelchair he didn't want to do it.  I know physical rehab is hard, I went though it myself three years ago when I tore my quadricep leg muscle.

I asked Bill if he could put his nurse on the phone. He didn't understand what I was saying. He kept saying "I don't understand you."  I could tell by the tone of his voice he was very frustrated. And he's not talking regular. He struggles to talk. 

I hung up my iPhone because I couldn't make him understand me. The receptionist came over and told me that she heard from her superior and couldn't get authorization for me to visit Bill.  She yesterday was a "one-off".  I have to admit I was very surprised that they let me visit him yesterday because I didn't expect to see him.  Even though I was greatly disappointed (even more than greatly, I was devastated) I tried to compose myself and through sobs and choking up I told her that I appreciated them letting me see Bill yesterday and I understand why they couldn't today and since because of the COVID restriction. They have to considered the other patients they have in that facility. Another person came down and expressed her concern for me and told me where the coffee/refreshment room was if I wanted to spend time there.  I was pretty broken up, I have to admit. I hate myself when I'm like this in public but my heart is breaking for Bill. 

All he wants is to see me and come home with me. Now he can't see me or come home with me.

I haven't heard from Bill the rest of today.

I am so thankful I was afforded the opportunity to see Bill yesterday. One thing that was tearing me up since the EMT guys carried him out of here Thursday a week ago that I couldn't tell Bill how much I love him and miss him. That's all he ever wanted from me, my love (which he always has had) and to be with me. Yesterday I got that opportunity due to the kindness of those wonderful people at the rehab facility where Bill is staying now.

I hope Bill improves but I have to tell you that I wish he was moving more. I am worried. But one thing that I am so thankful for is that I had a chance to see Bill and could tell him that I love him. 

If Bill should pass away, he will be at peace. We always agreed it would be best if he went first. I just could not imagine dying knowing that I would leave Bill alone. It's better for me to be left alone. I can manage. Bill couldn't. But I have to tell you folks, this hurts. It hurts way more than I had ever imagined. 

The only positive thing now is that I'm not as desperate now as I was this time last week. If it wasn't for my friends (Glenn, Larry, Pat, Don and Bob) who let me spill my guts out to them, I was entering unknown territory. I felt like I was in a tunnel underground, crawling to get out and the further I crawled the narrower the tunnel became. I couldn't sleep. I was lost. I'm better now. I'm keeping busy. I talked to Glenn, Larry, Pat and Bob today. Bob is my neighbor who lost his wife, son and brother this year and lives alone. Glenn lost his partner/husband of 34 years on Jan 5th and just be coincidence happened to send me a letter informing me of that fact the night Bill was airlifted to the hospital in Philadelphia. I called Glenn on FaceTime the next day. Larry I talk to every day, he's been my friend since we became friends in third grade in 1953. Larry has ALS, I talk to him almost every morning on FaceTime at 8:30 AM. Don is my longtime friend from Philadelphia. His co-op guest suite is where Pat and I stay when we visit Philadelphia twice a year.  Don is a dear, dear friend. He is saving my life again. And then there is Pat, trapped in Canada because the border is close between the US and Canada because of COVID. But Pat calls me several times a day keeping me up to date on his condo move, getting my mind off of feeling sorry for myself. 

I don't know if Bill will ever come home. I hope he comes home. I hope his physical rehabilitation is successful. But I have my doubts, which I wish I didn't have but I haven't seen him move on his own except his arms. I wish he had more movement. Perhaps he will with this week of physical therapy. I hope so.

I am tired now. The last four nights I've slept hard but I do wake up early and can't get back to sleep. 

I always knew this time of my life was coming. I always pushed it into the background. Put it off. 

I'm trying to avoid cliches but I can't avoid this one. I'm taking one day at a time. I'm keeping busy (cleaned Bill's bathroom late this afternoon). And I await that phone call from the rehab where Bill is being well taken care of. I hope they put his favorite sweater on with those pants they were trying to get on him this morning. 

Bill just a few weeks ago sitting in our kitchen stool, being with me while I make more tomato, cucumber, onion salad for him. He loved being with me while I made his favorite foods. God I miss him. 

Medical Appointments Last Minute Changes, Incredible!

Bill is scheduled for an endoscopy. Originally the date was next Wednesday, July 19th at 8:00 am.


Last week I got a call changing the date to Monday, July 17th 8:30 am. 

These were messages left for me on my voicemail. 

I was to receive a call telling me of the exact time to be at the surgery center. I didn't get that call. I called this morning and there was confusion as to if I'm to be there on Wednesday or Monday.

I got a call later this morning stating the time WAS  Monday at 8:30 am. 

So when I took my daily afternoon nap, I turned off my iPhone, secure in the knowledge that this was a settled time. And oh by the way, I'm scheduled to work at the hotel next Monday on the 17th at 3 pm. So the 8:30 am time works for me.

But not so fast Fredo.

Fredo Corleone

I wake up from my nap today at 4:57 am and see I have a message to "call immediately doctor's office for an important message."

I call but of course I'm too late because their office is closed. I leave a message with their answering service and also with the doctor, who is very nice by the way.

Then while I'm outside in this brutal, oppressive, heat and humidity collecting Japanese beetles I get a call on my iPhone. Now the time has changed to 9:45 am.  Uh, okay. I can still manage that.  

Then I get a call from the doctor. He doesn't know about the time changes. Now I feel guilty for bothering him with something that is clearly a function of his staff. He probably thought Bill was having a swallowing problem. Well, one good thing, I now know I can get hold of the doctor.  That's good to know.  As I said earlier in this post, I like this doctor. 

Now get this.  I get ANOHTER call from the scheduling staff.  They want to change Bill's procedure to 2:30 pm.  Man oh man.  Can you say "Keystone Kops"? 

Not only are all these changes very disruptive and chaotic, Bill has an anxiety problem. Bill doesn't like change.  This is another responsibility I have as Bill's caregiver. I have to keep things as calm as possible. Good thing I'm here to take the flak. Bill would just cancel the appointments altogether. In fact that's what he wanted to do.  But I don't want to see Bill sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood like I did last November 29th when his ulcer's ruptured and he had to be taken to the emergency room at the local hospital.

Now just to add icing to the cake I have an appointment next Tuesday with my cardiologist.  And Bill has an appointment next Thursday with his eye doctor as the final follow-up for his cataract surgery.  

I tell you folks, it's a challenge being old and keeping it together.  I'm just glad I'm here so I can take care of these things for Bill. If I wasn't here I don't know how these things would be handled. Bill can't keep these things straight. And to be very frank, I'm starting to have a hard time keeping everything straight and organized myself. 

If I ever reach Bill's age (88, which I seriously doubt) I wonder who will watch out for me. Yes, I wonder. Well, I can't worry about that now.

Now if this heat and humidity will just break. I feel like having a big piece of chocolate fudge cake.

Bill is Home From the Hospital!

Good news!  Bill is home from the hospital.  

I got the call this afternoon to pick him up.  

Here is what they found:

1. Atrophic gastritis
2. Esophagitis
3. Hematemesis
4. Multiple gastric ulcers
5. Peptic structure of esophagus

In layman's language Bill has ulcers and an irritation of his esophagus.  He also has a fungus infection which is unrelated to his esophagus problem.  

Now to begin the journey through the labyrinth of VA health care.  We will begin this tomorrow with an in person visit to the VA Outpatient Clinic in Georgetown and Bill's primary care doctor.  Wish us luck!

But in the meantime, I am so glad to have Bill home.  Our home isn't a home unless Bill is here.  I can't imagine my life without him. 

Ready to leave the hospital

Post Surgery

Ron humbled - on a walker

Surgery is over folks.  I had to spend the night at the hospital for pain monitoring.  Big baby girl that I am, the pain was a bit unbearable after the anesthesia wore off, as I was warned.  The first pain killer I took just about knocked me out with nausea so I had to take another pain killer.  I've been taking that one very four hours since and of course I haven't pooped, one of the lovely side "benefits" of taking pain killers.  But the pain is controlled.

If you want to know what is causing the pain checkout the photo below that I took when I cleaned my wound.  Yep, them there are staples in my leg.  Nice, huh?

My stapled leg (sorry for the gross out but I do like to share)

Oh the horror stories I could tell you while I was in the hospital.  Not about the care, it was fine but about my room.  When they took me to the third floor to a big, QUIET room by myself, I at first thought it was the
SAME room where The Cajun (Wayne) spent his last days.  "Oh no!" I thought.  Turns out it was a different room, but right across the hall from where Wayne was staying.

My surgery was at 1 in the afternoon.  They wheeled me to my room at 5 PM or so.  
All was fine until about 2:30 AM in the morning when the floor nurse advised me I was "getting a roommate."  Turns out an old guy like me (and a vet) tripped over (of all things) a wheelchair and broke his hip.  

Lights on, man screaming in pain, many people coming in interviewing him, man screaming in pain (did I say a man was screaming in pain?)  I felt so sorry for this man. I know he was in great pain and discomfort but a restful night of sleep with my painkillers was out of the question for me. 

I.GOT.NO.SLEEP.

But again, my situation was NOTHING compared to this man's awful and painful condition.  I felt so bad for him.  

Yesterday I was supposed to be released at 9 AM.  Bill and I left at 5 PM.  When I got home (on a walker and a portable commode - what was THAT all about? I don't NEED one of those), I was exhausted.  After getting settled and settling Bill (all this stress is very hard on him plus getting me in and out of the back seat of the car, now with a walker), I laid down on my bed, fully clothed at about 7:30 PM.  I didn't get up until this morning at about the same time.

This morning I had to change my dressing (with Bill' help), but that didn't work to well because I can't lift my leg and this is too stressful for Bill.  I called my doctor's office and they will send out a home health care worker every other day to change my dressing.  Helpless man here.  See how quickly one's life can change to one of helplessness from one fall?

Nurse Elena changing my dressing yesterday as I left the hospital

Of course it is still very uncomfortable for me to sit at this computer so I'm bringing this post to an end.  Actually, there is a silver lining here isn't there? No more rambling blog posts from Ron.  Short and succinct and to the point. There's always the good side to an bad situation isn't there?

I've been tagged a lot of things before but this is the first time I was tagged as a "Fall Risk." 

Visit to a Friend in the Hospital

My tropical shirt which elicited the question "Did you just return from West Africa?" at the hospital today

On this beautiful fall day I finally got up enough courage to visit my friend "The Cajun" in the hospital. No pictures (at his request).

I'm only a short distance away from Beebe Hospital.  I know it well having spent a few days there myself about this time last year (kidney stones).

A ten minute drive down New Road and in the back way to the hospital's always packed parking lot.  

Made my way to the entrance and the Visitor's Desk.  I saw a sign warning me to inform them if I was recently in West Africa (Ebola).  The lady at the front desk ASKED me if I had recently just returned from west Africa. Um . . . NO.  I asked her why she asked me and she said "You're wearing a very tropical shirt."  Uh . . . okay.

I asked what room the Cajun was in and she told me.  Again, I know my way around the maze of corridors that is Beebe hospital so I made my way up to the 3rd floor.  

Beebe Hospital corridor to the elevators

I got to his room.  The door was closed and all kinds of signs on it warning me about infection. I wasn't sure if I could go in.  I knocked and said his name.  No answer.  I went to the nurse's station and asked.  She said "Knock and go in."  I went back and knocked and opened the door just a wee bit.  There he was, in all his glory, ensconced in a private "penthouse" room in which he is most anxious to get out of, having been there almost three weeks already.  There is a search going on for a ground floor apartment for him (he has a second floor apartment now).

I reached out to shake his hand and took a seat.  I brought a trashy, gossipy Hollywood autobiography by Scotty Bowers with me.

I asked him if he would like to read trashy books.  He said "I don't read trashy books" but he took it all the same (it's a GOOD book, full of juicy tidbits about the sexual picadillos of some of the most famous Hollywood stars).  What self respecting gay man wouldn't want to read such trash?

I seated myself and we had catch up talk on friends and happenings, including our mutual friend's memorial service this past Saturday.I was being very careful not to fall into any verbal faux pas.  A bit later his doctor came in with a mask.  He asked "How are you doing?" and I said "I'm fine!"  The Cajun said "He was talking to me."  Whoops! I was on Automatic Response.  Leave it up to me to put my foot in my mouth.  It's all about me isn't it?  Hard to get out of that habit.

He was expecting his friend Linda to come in with some Chinese food for lunch.  He said he just about had his fill of hospital food.  I told him I would leave as soon as she came in.  I could smell the Chinese food (General Tso's Chicken) even before she came in the door.  I said "Hi!" to her and left through the aromatic vapors of that spicy hot Chinese chicken dish.

General Tso's Chicken - HOT!

I'm glad I went.  I know how it is to languish in a hospital.  Visitors are always welcome but it was hard to determine the best time to visit him because he occasionally runs a fever and is not up to entertaining visitors.  Today was a good day because he wasn't running a fever and felt relatively well.  I even evoked a couple of laughs out of him.  Just like old times.  

"AARGH ME MATES!" (on the Kalmar Nyckel last year

I Survived

I survived folks.  I was scheduled for surgery this morning at Milford Hospital at 8:30 am.  Just got home, 4:00 pm.  Long day.  Got up early.  Actual surgery or "shock therapy" only took about an hour.  All the rest was preliminaries.  I do have to say that the staff and Milford Hospital was great.  Just another reason I'm glad I retired to Delaware.  

I need my rest now.  Just wanted to keep you all up to date.  I'm too tired now to go into the details.  I may (or may not) go into details in a future blog post.  For now the photos below will have to do as a narrative of my day.

Ron is back.