X Marks the Broken Spot

For Day X of the A-Z challenge, I'm writing about a very expected word: X-ray.  When I was a kid, it was one of only two X words on the spelling list:  X-ray and xylophone.

Today, there are a few more options: Xerox, Xmas (this is actually in the dictionary), xylem (the woody stem of a plant), and The X-files. (I miss you, Mulder.)

I'm sticking with X-ray.  Only because I have such a doozy.

This is the shoulder of my 91 year-old mother.  It has a rod and pins in it that form the shape of a mutant praying mantis.  It's a huge apparatus that was installed to repair a terrible break in her right shoulder last year.

Right after her fall, her shoulder looked like this (warning: icky picture.)

A few weeks after surgery, it looked like this (still icky...)

During rehab, it looked like this...

Mom worked very hard, and after three months, her shoulder looked normal, but does not have the range of motion it once did.  She will never be able to pitch for the Orioles again.

X-rays are X-ceptional tools, and I'm X-tremely grateful for this technology.  Humpty-Dumpty might be around today if an X-ray machine had been available.

Have you ever had an X-ray that enabled doctors to put you back together again?

WHAT a RIDE

I've decided God is a fan of roller-coasters.  With all the ups and downs in life (and all the screaming that accompanies the ride), His youngins - us - call on Him quite often. 

When something GREAT happens, we screech "Oh, my GOD!" 

Something tragic?  "Oh my God..." we moan.

Either way, we're reaching out to a greater force in gratitude or pain.   If the road was smooth and straight, we'd probably never talk to Him.

All the lurching forward and back, up and down...God hears from us.

We've had so many lurches the past four months...it felt like an episode of LOST:   Are we in the hospital now, or rehab?  Are we in the doctor's office for the humerus break, or the lung X-ray?  Which doc are we seeing today...the orthopod, or the cardiologist?  Which medicine is for what?  Am I calling Dr. R. about Mom or Dad?  What day is it?  What month is it?  How long have we been on this island?!  

Four months of a roller-coaster ride that started with a badly broken bone.  

Today...we're at the top of the hill, enjoying the view.

Mom got a great report from her orthopedic surgeon today.   Never have we been so happy to see sharp, pokey hardware under flesh.

This is Mom's not-so-humorous humerus.  As you can see, the head of the bone is now securely connected to shaft.  Three months ago, the "ice cream" had slipped off the "cone."  (That was the official diagnosis from the surgeon.) 

It's back in one piece, thanks to some skilled finger work and a device that looks like a mutant praying mantis with extra legs.   

Mom was given the all-clear today to do what she wants with her new bionic arm.  She'll start more aggressive OT this week.  Here she is with the PA who works with orthopod Dr. B. 

He's from Cuba and, and we can't understand half of what he says, but he's warm and kind and was very pleased with Mom's ROM (range of motion.)  He gave us the best news we've heard in four months.

Mom also got the staples removed from her head this morning.  Regarding hardware, it was a very good day.

Tomorrow Mom and Dad will celebrate their 61st wedding anniversary.   We'll bring them to our house for a pot roast dinner and thank God for the roller-coaster ride they've shared all these years.

A local florist brought them a bouquet of roses this week in honor of their anniversary.

I'm sure there's a dip in the ride coming up soon.   We are still awaiting two doctors appointments; one to have Mom's back evaluated; one to have her thyroid checked.

But for today...it's so nice to be at the top of the ride and breathe in the fresh air.

How sweet it is. 

Happy, blessed anniversary to the folks...

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...

 

FREE AT LAST!

Mom is moving to rehab today! 

We thought it would be yesterday, but in hospitals, things run slower than cold molasses, so it's today.  

Her legs are clot-free and her hemoglibin Hgb is steady.  (Thank you, dear nurse-sister-in-law, who informed me of the correct acronym.)

I'm hoping my next post will contain a few pictures of Mom in her new environment. 

Yesterday afternoon, the wonderful Dr. R. stopped in to sign Mom's release papers and bid her adieu.  He will see her once a week at Life Care Center.   

Here he is, hovering beside his grateful patient.

We can't say enough about this sweet, thorough doctor. 

He is the primary care physician for both Mom and Dad, but also makes time for me, when I have questions about their care.   

I'm going to bake him some cookies.  

Thank you to all who have prayed, sent cards, called, and sent love Mom's way.  

Hopefully, at the rehab center, there will be a better phone system, and Mom will be able to converse with loved ones by phone whenever she wants to. 

I'm so grateful we are moving to the next phase of Mom's recovery.  

Since Mom has been hospitalized, the brother of a friend, and a cousin's son have passed away.  My sister-in-law's father has been seriously ill.  Japan has suffered a devastating earthquake/tsunami.  

This life is but a brief snapshot of time.  I need to remember this, and give hugs and smooches to those I love every day.  

Consider yourself hugged and smooched. :-) 

FROM ASHES to REHAB (part 2)

Two weeks ago tomorrow, Mom fell and ended up in the ER.

The weekend before that, she was also in the ER, for an infected finger.   

We're getting to feel pretty much at home in the hospital.  

I finally know where all the vending machines and restrooms are.  

And, yesterday, a nurse let me take a picture of her face because she had a perfect ash cross (Lent) on her forehead.  I'd post it, but I can't get it out of my phone.  

Anyhoo...a good day for Mom.  Her hemogoblin HG is 9.9, which is the best it's been since she was admitted.  Good news, indeed.

The GI doc stopped in and told us he's not sure Mom is losing red blood cells, so much as not producing them.  A colonoscopy is still needed, but after Mom is better.  Rehab will facilitate healing, and the wonderful Dr. R. will probably determine when "better" is.  

One more test was to be done today -  an ultrasound on Mom's legs (which are a bit swollen) - to rule out blood clots.  If that is clear, and most people think it will be, Mom will get her marching orders to rehab. 

We'll probably celebrate with several Milky Way bars. 

Here's Mom getting pumped up for the work ahead...

Here she is with her favorite sidekick...

He brought her a piece of cake today, which she wasn't interested in.  

If it's still there tomorrow, Dad and I might have to scarf it up.  We wouldn't want to have to carry that to rehab.  

Love to all who are following Mom's adventure.

Toodeloo for now... 

FROM ASHES to REHAB

Today, in the Christian faith, Lent began. 

40 days of reflection and preparation for the risen Lord. 

Dad and I went to Mass today to reflect and acknowledge our flawed, human selves.  

We also prayed for Mom, for healing, for peace.  For a blessed, miraculous Lent. 

A beautiful, new banner was hanging in the church.  A woman in the parish made it.  It is vivid and stunning... 

With the ashes-on-the-head-thing, I am always reminded of how temporary we are.  How small, really. 

With mom's hospitalization, it is particularly close to our family how fragile we are. 

Then, I always move to how big God is.  Big enough to form humankind out of dirt.  Holy dirt, but still...dirt.  

No wonder we always need cleaning up.  Healing from the filth of life.   

I think that's what the water's for....

After Mass, Dad, Patti (a friend of Mom's) and I went to visit our favorite patient. 

She was sitting up in the big chair, having just completed PT.  Her eyes lit up to see her friend.  

I took a couple pictures on my phone (I'd left my camera at home), but can't figure out how to download them, so there's no visual of the girls chatting, or of the blob of ashes on Mom's head.  

Nothing new with Mom today.  We stayed for an hour and left.
 
Then...a little miracle.  

Just after 10 p.m., Mom called me, saying the wonderful Dr. R. had just paid her a visit with the news that her hemoblobin  HG was steady.  She has one final test tomorrow, and then he is releasing her to rehab! 

Mom told me to bring some clothes and her shoes.  Be sure to bring her shoes.  Maybe she's walking to rehab.  

How lovely that on the first day of Lent, there is a new vision for Mom.  A picture of rising again...from the bed, from the hospital, from the injuries, from weakness.  There is work to be done, but healing to be had in a new place. 

Lent is like that too.  If we embrace it, there is spiritual work to be done, but healing and wholeness to be realized by the time Easter arrives. 

Mom was certainly in some ashes the first week she fell.  And now, she's on her way to rehab.  

I guess for Lent, she's giving up that lovely hospital gown. 

THE Hemoglobin GOBLIN

Hemoblobin Hemoglobin is a word I've heard an awfully lot this week. 

Mom's hemoblogin hemoglobin has been up and down for ten days.  It's been as problematic as it is to type.  I'm dubbing it HG from here on.  

Mom's HG was down again over the weekend - 8.1.  After a transfusion yesterday, it was up to 9.6.  This is great, and we're hoping this number will hold.  If it does, Mom can move to rehab.  

The problem is...the effect of the transfusions, so far, has been temporary.  The initial effect is positive, but within a few days, the number drops again.

The wonderful Dr. R. explained to mom tonight that he suspects there is some bleeding in the colon.   A colonoscopy is not possible at this time, due to the fractures Mom has sustained, but as soon as she has healed enough, they will do one. 

Mom is being given iron (which will take a few months to build up) and Dr. R. is consulting with the hematologist to see what other options are available.  She may periodically need a transfusion.  We are hoping this will not keep her from moving to rehab.

We need to wait another day or two to see if the 9.6 holds (insert prayers here.)

In the meantime, Mom is getting PT in her room.  She's getting OT as well, with exercises and working the pink sponge...

Look at the determination on that face. 

Mom also got to talk to grandchild Sara today.  Which is kind of a miracle, because:

1. Normally the phone is out of Mom's reach, so she can't answer it; today, I was there when the call came in. 

2. While I was greeting Sara, Mom had time to take her hearing aid out.  "I have to take it out, so I can hear," she said.  Which I don't understand, but I don't ask.

3.  The connection was pretty good, which, in the hospital, is not always the case with long-distance.  

4.  I think Mom heard most of the conversation.  Sara reported to me later that she asked Mom if she had a transfusion today.  Mom replied, "Yes, they bring me communion every day."

                    

5.  Sara got to talk to Dad as well, who was munching a brownie.  

 
Some things never change.

Off to bed.

Love,

    


 

An Unhumorous Humerus (part 7)

Mom has been in the hospital for ten days.  

She has a broken humerus and a small crack in her pelvis.   She is also anemic, which has delayed her transfer to rehab, because her doc wants her hemoglibin hemoglobin higher before he releases her.

The humerus bone is stabilized and the pelvic crack won't keep her from walking (although it's painful); it's the hemaglobin (or hemo goblin, I call it, because it's giving us trouble) that is slowing her progress.  

Still, some positive steps today.  

PT Mike got Mom up today and "walked" her to the big chair to sit up for a while.  She took about six steps with a unique side-walker that will help her ambulate.  Here she is with her lunch.  

She's very excited about the food, as you can tell.  

She loved the fresh strawberries I brought her today from the county Strawberry Festival. 

The blood doctor stopped in to inform us that Mom would receive another transfusion today.  Mom felt much better after the first two, so she might feel like dancing tomorrow.   

Mom is going to have an ultrasound on her arm today, as there is a blood clot forming that they want to take a look at.  Seems not unusual with her type of injury; if deemed necessary, the doc will prescribe Cumadin to break it up.  Nobody seems worried about it.  

Mom has some simple exercises she's been instructed to do while in bed, so we circled our ankles together, and rotated our wrists.   

She has a pink, memory foam square to squeeze that's fun to play with.  I'll get a snapshot tomorrow, as I know you're eager to see it.  Taking pictures keeps us busy while we wait for doctors to show up.  

Today, I checked Mom's once infected finger that landed us in the ER two weeks ago.  We've practically forgotten about the poor thing.  

It's looking better, but puffy again due to the broken bones in the same arm.  Can you tell which finger it is?

Good job!

OK, more tomorrow.
   
We all continue to appreciate prayers and good wishes that are sent our way. 

Some days are better than others, but we try to laugh every day.   


Love, 

 

An Unhumorous Humerus (part 6)

Day 7...

Mom got a new room today.  She moved down the hall to the not-needing-so-much-attention section.  This is both good and bad.

The positive is that Mom has stabilized, meaning no new issues have been discovered in the past 48 hours.  

The negative is that she's really sliding sideways in the bed, or her saline drip is empty before a nurse pops in.  Nothing life-threatening, just patience-building.  

God bless nurses everywhere.  I don't know how they do it.

Dr. R. (Mom's wonderful primary care physician) told us today that her iron level has dropped a bit again.  It's back in the 8's, which is not what he wants to see.  It needs to register in the 9's before she can be released to rehab.  

Dr. R. said they would prefer to wait until her pelvis crack is healed before doing a colonoscopy, but if the iron number does not climb, they will have to do one anyway.  They need to determine the cause of the chronic anemia.  (A slow bleed in the colon is likely the cause.)

My husband said she needs a couple of bacon burgers every day.  With a side of spinach.  

The hospital prefers an iron capsule.  OK, but she won't get Popeye muscles that way.  

So...we wait another day.  Dr. R. will be back tomorrow.  God bless that man.  I wonder if he ever sees his children.  

Mom was still fairly cheery today.   She's had a couple roommates come and go, and always prefers her own injuries/issues over theirs.  

These earth suits we walk around in are so fragile. 

Mom had a visitor today that she made her day.

After 48 hours apart, they were tickled to see each other...

And that's just about as sweet as it gets. 

Until next time...

                                

An Unhumorous Humerus (part 5)

One week since Mom's fall, and we're finally getting a glimpse of what's to come.

First, some good news (and we're ready for some): the break in Mom's pelvis is a small one that will not need surgery, just gentle usage.  :-)  The physical therapists will know how to work with Mom to best facilitate healing. 

Secondly, Mom's blood count is coming up.  :-)

Third, the GI doc decided Mom could not endure a colonoscopy at this time, due to the pelvis break, but he did perform an upper GI endoscopy today, which was normal.  :-) 

Mom will stay in the hospital through the weekend, so they can keep an eye on her blood levels.  If they are still good on Monday, she will move to rehab.  

Here's the happy (but getting restless) patient after hearing the good reports.

Mom was up to sorting out some paperwork and rearranging her purse today.  I brought to her copies of recent emails with good wishes (thank you!)

She corrected two typos in my previous post (!), so I know the brain is humming along.  She seems 75 again.

We laughed a lot today.  

Mom dropped her toothpick in the sheets, and we chuckled about looking for a needle in a haystack, or a toothpick in the bed clothes.

We fiddled with the pillows, still trying to get Mom situated to where her neck is straight and her arm is bent, but she still ends up catawampus by the time I return from getting my M&Ms.  

I think the bed has a mind of its own. 

Across town, at hospital #2, Dad was released today.  He is now safely ensconced at Southland, snoozing away.  He's eager to visit his sweetheart tomorrow.  

It was a hectic, but very good day.  

There was one brief blip, when I went to the ground floor of hospital #2 to grab a snack.  I was stunned to find the cafe gone.   

After blinking a few times, I realized I was in hospital #1. 

Time for a nap.   

Lots of love,

 

An Unhumorous Humerus (part 4)

What I learned today...

1.  At 6 a.m. you can get a right-outside-the-door parking spot at the hospital.  

2. The hospital corridors are bright, but quiet.  

3.  The pre-op ward is where all the action is.  (Here's one of my favorite patients waiting for minor surgery.)

4.  Hospitals offer colors of footwear...

DAD's FEET

MOM's FEET

5.  Dad's procedure went well.  Barring any complications, he should be back at Southland tomorrow. 

6.  X-rays revealed that Mom has a break in her pelvis.  :-(    This explains why she has trouble walking.  (I won't have any more details about this - size or location of break - until I catch a doctor.  I'm on the look-out.) 

7.  Mom had OT for her arm this afternoon.  She did well, but was sore after just a few minutes.  The therapist was gentle and sweet.  This made both the patient and her daughter feel better.  

8.  Mom has chosen a rehab center called Life Care Centers.  I pray she can get there soon.  

9.  No news yet on the cause of the anemia.  I pray we make some progress on that tomorrow, before the weekend, when nothing much happens.  

10.  As a family, we're acquiring too many hospital mug shots.  And we're confused about which way they go, and who wears what. 

I had a new picture taken today, because the old one looked like a sonogram.

 

And besides, I want Mom to see two smiling faces when I enter her room. 

Love to all who are reading and praying.  Mom's spirits are still pretty good.  

On my next visit to see her, I'm taking some Puffs and her gum stimulator.  She's excited to get those.  :-)