Hospital Rerun

Me, oh my.  How things change.

Eleven days ago, Mom had surgery to repair her broken arm.  She did very well.

Six days later, the doc heard some rumbling in her lungs and ordered an X-ray.  The pneumonia was back.

Mom started Levaquin, which upset her stomach all over again, so they switched her to Avelox.  So far, so good - no tummy rebellion.

Two days later, her ankles began to swell.  The wonderful Dr. R. saw her yesterday afternoon and ordered an ultrasound to rule out blood clots.  Here he is taking in Mom's update. 

She had some instructions for him. 

Three hours later, Life Care called to say Mom's ultrasound was positive for a DVT, and they had called for a transport (which would take about 45 minutes to arrive) to take her to the hospital. 

When I arrived at Life Care, it was 9:30 p.m. and the halls were dim and quiet.  Mom told me her leg was bothering her when she moved it, but if she was still, she was able to doze.

While we waited for the transport, I strolled the subdued hallways and nibbled on a mini-pak of Oreos from the snack cart.  I also noticed the name plates outside the rooms of other patients.

On my third lap, I took my camera along.  Some names surely had a story or two.  If only in my mind.

(Some pictures were auto-corrected due to the dark, spooky hallways.  First names were removed to protect the sleeping.)

Imagine being five, and your last name is the same as your favorite building block.  I bet this kid was the coolest guy on the block.  Pun intended.

As opposed to this kid...

He probably hated his name.  CLAW-witter? or CLAY-witter?  Clay-water.  Fly-swatter.  You could play with this one.

And this one...

Boos, as in CA-boose.  Or Boos, as in booze.  Or boo-boos.  Or boo-hoos.  I can only imagine.   

Here's a great name...

When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie...that's amore.   Name that song.

Here's a name that makes me want to meet the patient and see if she's related to Renee...

Even if she's not, she might think she is.

Here are two names on opposite ends of the spectrum...in the same room.

That's Kornrump.  With an 'f.'  Which seems completely superfluous.   

I looked it up.  The name originated from the German occupation of weighing grain.  A korn rumpf is the wooden tunnel of a mill where the grain (korn) is placed before being ground by the millstone.  The name dates back to 1470.

There's your history lesson for the day.  It might be helpful if you're ever on Jeopardy.

Jones means "son of John."   Just to be fair. 

After roaming the halls for over an hour, this next name spoke to me.  Nothing in a hospital or rehab center ever happens like this...

If this were my name, as a kid, I would have adopted the nickname "Nestle," as in Nestle's Quick.  Choooooc-late.

And the best of the bunch...  

A perfect last name. 

My name-game musings ended when the transport team finally arrived.

Two kind men named Nathan and Isaiah moved Mom from Life Care to the ER next door.

An hour later, she was in a room, getting an IV.   Mom was admitted and placed on blood thinners, Coumadin and Heparin, to be exact.

I left about 2 a.m., once mom was again ready to doze,  and I was told no more news would be forthcoming until tomorrow...

It's now tomorrow.

Dad and I visited Mom, who looked pretty good.  She is, however, discouraged to hear that she must stay in bed for a few days.  She must not instigate any movement that will cause a quick surge of blood.

Like arm-wrestling, or jumping-jacks, which she's fine taking a break from.

She would like to move to the potty chair when needed, but that's prohibited as well.  Which she's not pleased about.  Hopefully the blood thinners will work their magic soon.

In the meantime, Dad and I are enjoying the hospital cafe soup once again.

Curry Rice and Lentil.  My favorite.

Dad likes Tomato Bisque.  Or Broccoli Cheddar. 

I digress.

More updates as they up come...

Easter Leftovers

I took a lot of pictures during Easter week. 

Jesus and His Peeps took precedence Easter morning (click here if you missed them.)  Those little, felt action figures made my day.

But, these moments were great too.

1.  A good friend stopped in to see the folks at Mom's rehab.   She's a massage therapist and medical assistant who has an alter-ego that shows up every October (click here to meet Scary Sherry.)

2.  Our son and daughter-in-law visited the weekend before Easter with hugs and tiny Easter baskets from Hobby Lobby.  They craft their own greeting cards, which are wonderful...

How cute is that?   Here are the card artists with my sister and Dad...

3.  A white Easter banner replaced the purple, Lenten banner at church.  My photos don't do the banners justice, they are so vivid and breathtaking (click here  to see the purple one.)

4.  We had Easter lunch with Mom at the rehab center, where Dad scarfed up three desserts:

German chocolate cake (already gone, the scraped-clean plate on the left, in the back);  strawberry ice cream (partially gone);  a chocolate bunny that is, at this point, a shell of his former self.   His ears were consumed before lunch.

                           

I cannot tell a lie.  I helped on that one.

Here's what Mom had for dessert...

...which is why she weighs 116 pounds, and we...do not. 

5. Mom and Dad with their four-wheelers...

...and two hands.

6.  The hyacinths in Mom's room were in full bloom.  Another reminder that beautiful, fragrant things can emerge from wormy, smelly dirt.

So, Happy Easter again.  May we keep the spirit alive all year. 

Happy Birthday Mary! (a limerick)

My brother’s wife is named Mary

She’s never, ever contrary (!)

Her birthday’s today

Whoo-hoo! Time to play

Eat M&Ms and be merry!

Mary has four little lambs

They all enjoy crab meat - not clams

Her kids are now grown

From her coop, they’ve flown

(One of them is quite a ham)

 

Mary has great nursing skills

She listens to all of your ills

She comforts and prays,

gives God all the praise

In spite of life’s many hills

Mare likes the beach in the summer

Too much rain is a bummer

She’ll shop ‘til she’s pooped,

doesn’t like to be cooped

For fun, she might drive a hummer

Mary’s heart is pure gold

It’s helpful and playful – not old

Her shoulders are screwy

She just says, “Oh, phooey”

For her, nothing’s on hold

Mare loves a Coke and a movie

That’s a hard word to rhyme,

Sooo…ka-doovy

Blessings to you, Mare!

Sleep in, paint your hair

Love from the Ballpark – you’re groovy!

The End.

For the LOVE of His PEEPS

When I was a youngin, Easter was about patent leather shoes, a new dress with some pink in it, the fragrance of the Easter Lily my father always purchased, and cookie tins stuffed with plastic grass, chocolates, and jelly beans. (My favorite treats were the malted milk Robin's eggs.) 

Oh, and going to Mass as a family.  Get to Mass, then hunt for the Easter baskets.  And eat myself silly on sweets the rest of the day.

What a holiday.   New clothes, flowers, and sugar, with some obligatory prayers in the middle.

As a young Mom, I occasionally did the new clothes thing for my youngins too.

Here's a shot from Easter 1989...our youngest, in his new shirt and vest, which has chocolate on it already.  The Redskins hat just had to be part of this dapper ensemble. 

I like the Easter/new clothes connection.  Christ makes all things new, so as He offers new life to all of us, we don new garments, the symbol of a new creation.  Very nice.

The fragrance of Easter fills my home again this year, because Dad bought a Lily for Mom just before her surgery, and it ended up at my house.  There are currently five blooms, and two swelling buds about to open.

I love the Easter/Lily connection.  New growth, pristine blooms, divine fragrance, an exquisite flower only God can create.  Beauty rising up from the cold, dark earth.   

The Easter/Jelly Bean-Peeps connection?   No rhyme or reason to that one.   Just candy-makers having to sell something between Valentine's Day and Halloween.  Which is OK with me.  I still like those Robin's eggs.

This year, we received a BEE-U-TEE-FUL Easter card from our daughter, the almost-nun, in the mail.  And the Easter/Peeps connection made all of us smile.

HA!  Love it, love it.

Jesus and his Peeps.

Jesus, with his pancake-hair and dash-beard.  And two Peeps, one that appears to have a black eye.

Life is rough. 

Good Friday was certainly brutal.  And sad beyond words.  Jesus looked like this...

A horrible day.

But today, He is risen...

Look at those outstretched, resurrection arms.  He's up from the dirt, just like the Lily.

Overpowering the tomb and death and darkness.

Winning.

Bringing new life to everyone.  All His Peeps, wherever they are.

These Peeps could be the Father and the Holy Spirit, making this the Trinity.  

They could be deceased loved ones...grandma and grandpa...

...or my brother, Greg, and my friend, Kim.

They could be you and me.

Easter is my favorite holiday.   It doesn't have the chaos of Christmas, or the work of Thanksgiving.

For the greatest miracle in human history, it doesn't get much attention, really.   Which is unfortunate, because it offers the very thing humankind needs most.    

Forgiveness and healing.  Redemption.  A second chance.  Emergence from the dirt, unsullied and strong.

Thank you, sweet daughter, for this precious, homemade card.    

And thank you, Jesus, for deciding your Peeps were worth it.

 

The Day After

Mom is one day post-op from the repair of her right proximal humerus.

Here's a final shot of that not-so-funny bone on its last night out of joint.   

My sister flew in from tornado-ridden Raleigh last week to enjoy some Florida sunshine.

She and I took Mom to the hospital early yesterday morning.  We organized her belongings, while she watched every gory detail of her IV insertion...

Worried about her sleep apnea, Mom wondered aloud if the doc could do her surgery while she's sitting up.  I told her we'd ask him when he arrived.

An hour later the doc popped in.  He remarked that it was about time "Miss Jane" had arrived for surgery.  He'd been waiting a month to get that shoulder straightened out.

I told him Mom, who was dozing a bit by this point due to the relaxation meds, wondered if he could work on her sitting up.

He replied,  "Actually, when operating, I prefer to stand."   A funny guy from Tennessee.  

Once they wheeled Mom away, my sister worked on her Bible study...

...while I watched some news on the big screen TV and kept my eye on the status screen.  Mom was number 658122.

For about three hours, her status was "Procedure." 

                   

After I had some hot chocolate, some hot tea, a bagel, some nut mix, and made three trips to the restroom, the humorous humerus doc appeared in his blue scrubs.

"Everything went well," he said.

No respiratory issues, no heart issues.  Due to Mom's osteoporosis, her bone needed a little "packing" with some calcium chips to give it some strength.  He mentioned this casually as if it was like stuffing a sock with Styrofoam peanuts.

This morning Mom's hemoblogin hgb was 7.1, so she received a pint of blood, and may receive more.  Otherwise, she is doing great.

When we arrived to see her today, she was eating lunch and sipping tea.  

And sporting more medical bracelets than I've ever seen...

I think there's a forearm in there somewhere.

After lunch, she took a little stroll in some fancy gray socks.  

The rest of us took turns taking pictures in the waiting room. 

We were very happy.

If Mom's hgb rises and stabilizes, she might return to rehab tomorrow.  Or the next day.

Mom sends her most sincere, heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been praying for her and sending her love and good wishes.

She is very happy. 

Happy doc, happy patient, happy family, happy day.

Good night...

 

BAR HOPPING

I've been on the lookout for a good protein bar.   

Apparently I don't get enough protein.  That can happen when you don't eat cows, birds, eggs, cheese, butter, ice cream, or anything else that tastes good.

So about two months ago, I went to the health food store and asked the woman in the snack section which protein bars are the most popular.  I figured people who actually eat them ought to know.  

She recommended five.  "I eat (Bar 1) every day," she said.  "I like the dark chocolate."

Well, of course, I thought, and picked up Bar 1.

"These are good, too," she added, handing me four more options. 

They all have 12-14 grams of protein.  Which is good, I guess.  I don't know how big a gram is.  I know 4 oz. of meat is a serving.    

My husband just informed me there are approximately 28.5 grams in one ounce.  He knows this, he said, because in the Air Force, he weighed confiscated marijuana.    

Really, I said.  I never knew this.   

That day, for lunch, I opened Bar 1.  It had a sweet, waxy white frosting and tasted like a dense granola bar.  Chewy, but gritty, like sawdust.  But in a healthy kind of way.    

I ate only half before I was full.  No kidding.  It felt a bit heavy in my stomach.   Not uncomfortable, just very filling.  I guess that's what 7 grams of protein feels like.  A brick.

I ate the other half a few days later, when I knew I'd be out running around for awhile.  A little concrete in the gut would hold me for several hours.   And it did.   

A week later, I tried Bar 2.  It was gritty too, but more like potting soil.  The bar was chocolate, so it looked like I was eating dirt.  But the flavor was OK.  Again, I could eat only half.  

These bars are only 1.5 ounces, but I swear, they're like eating a whole turkey.  Never have I eaten so little and been so stuffed.  

That night, I ate the other half of Bar 2 for dinner.  Along with a banana.  Half an hour later, I was in my pj's, dozing off.

I decided to wait a week before I had another bar.  Two bars in ten days was too much.  How can people eat an entire bar every day?

The following week I tried Bar 3.  Still couldn't get the thing down in one sitting.  I find this ridiculous.

Of the first three bars I tried, this was my favorite... 

The brand is fuco, with two dots over the 'u', which, unfortunately, I can't figure out how to add.  Without those pronunciation marks, you might get into trouble asking for it in the store.

As protein bars go - now knowing they are a heavy, typically grainy product - this one is fairly good.

Bar 4 came in handy several weeks ago, when Mom was hospitalized after a fall.  I strolled the halls and gnawed on this bar while Mom slept.  It was the first protein bar I finished in one eating.  

But it took me an hour. 

I've decided you have to work up to these things.  Kind of like jogging.  You run a mile, and as you adjust to the soreness and exhaustion, you add another mile.  It's not really enjoyable, but it's good for you, so you keep at it. 

I had Bar 5 last week.  Another day of running errands, not knowing when I'd get a meal.  

A protein bar doesn't really taste like a meal, but after you eat one, you're not eager to eat anything else for awhile.  So it's good to carry one when your schedule is off kilter.  They're wrapped so tight and are so solid, I think they would last for years.  

They'd be the food you'd want to take into a bomb shelter.  

I learned recently there are "dozens" of brands of protein bars out there.  But, I think I'm done with exploring the options.  I doubt any will taste like a Milky Way. 

My favorite (favorite is a relative term here) brand?

balance is really kind of OK.

A final note: they all taste better with a vanilla milkshake. 

(p.s. If you eat protein bars, let me know what you like.)