My Mother's Illness and Death: The Unkindness of the Medical Establishment. (To be blunt, people.)

My Mom.

I was listening to a podcast last night and a lady was being interviewed who had a child who had been born very small with some defects. She said a nurse said to her something like, “Been eating wrong foods?”

As if the mother wasn’t devastated already by her child’s illness, which turned out to be a medical condition having nothing to do with the mother. It brought back to me all the disheartening things nurses said to me during the years I looked after my mother.

My mother passed away on June 29^th. She was almost 93 and died of congestive heart failure. She had been ill for a long time. She was misdiagnosed a few times, but I don’t expect perfection from doctors. I know they are doing the best work they can. I asked the doctor a year ago if my mom might have congestive heart failure, but she said no, it was acid reflux.

The true diagnosis wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. And I’ve very glad she didn’t die of colon cancer which emergency doctors were 99% sure she had. They didn’t want to take a biopsy as it is a painful procedure and my mom was in her nineties. So, I lived with that scare for a long time. Altogether, my mom lived with us for five years and I’m so happy we had that time together.

But there were two things about my mother’s illnesses and hospital stays that made our journey much harder. The worst was that because of Covid-19 I wasn’t allowed in the hospital to visit her. They said I could come at the end, but it was too late when it happened. They told us a nurse was with her and I am grateful to that nurse.

Mom’s last day at home was a hard one. I just couldn’t get her breathlessness under control with her nitro sprays and she hadn’t been sleeping longer than 2-4 hours. My husband was working from home because of the virus so he was taking care of her in the day and I stayed up all night. But he would be going back to work the next week and I felt I just wasn’t competent enough to keep Mom comfortable any longer. We called an ambulance and they took her.

The emergency people called me and said I could pick Mom up in the morning and I said, “No.” Believe me, they were very upset, but I know my rights and they had to take care of her if I couldn’t.

Four days after putting her in a ward, the doctors agreed I couldn’t take care of her. Well, thank you.

By the time Mom was in the hospital ward her dementia was pretty bad. They said she didn’t ask for the family, for which I am grateful. It hurt my heart to think she might be asking why I wasn’t there.

But she just asked where she was every morning and seemed content with the answer. I believe she didn’t really know who my husband and I were the last week she was home. She rarely spoke and didn’t say my name anymore. She would forget what happened in a TV show a few seconds after watching it. She forgot all the visits from relatives in the last few years. She couldn’t read anymore because she couldn’t remember what she just read.

Yet, she was happy. That may sound strange, but it is true. We just watched TV together and she said she enjoyed each show. Before she forgot who I was, she thanked me over and over for taking care of her. Mom was almost always a sunny and grateful person and knew God. I know I will see her again.

The only problems I had was when I was questioned by nurses who visited and nurses at the hospital and nursing home she had to stay in while recovering from hip surgery.

After the surgery, they thought Mom was well enough to come right home or go for physical therapy at the nursing home. Well, she looked awful and was in constant pain so I told them to take her to the nursing home and I would meet her there.

I left that evening and I thought she would be okay. I came back in the morning and she said she had to go to the bathroom. I helped her in there and waited. A nurse came in and asked where Mom was and I told her. “No one is supposed to help her to the bathroom but us,” she said. I said, “Oh, okay.”

When Mom called out, the nurse went in and asked if she went. Mom told her no, she couldn’t. The nurse put her hands on her hips and said (not nicely), “This is the third time! If you don’t go the next time, I’ll have to use a suppository on you!” She was scolding her. A 90-year-old woman who had just had surgery! I took Mom home.

We got a hospital bed and all the stuff she needed and I took care of her with my husband’s help. Then a few weeks later, I twisted my foot around one of the legs of the hospital bed, which took up almost all the space of her bedroom. I couldn’t even stand on it, so I called an ambulance to take my mother. My husband was working and I had no one to help me take care of my mom. At this time, she was only sleeping for about 20 minutes at a time and I was exhausted.

When she was taken to the hospital the admitting person was angry. She called me and said, “This hospital is for sick people!” Well, my mother was sick and I couldn’t care for her so that’s why I sent her there! They kept calling me to come pick her up but I couldn’t! I know that in Canada they had to take care of her if no one else could, they just didn’t believe anything I said. It was horrible.

Mom was in a ward for four weeks and was injured twice while there. One time a nurse gave her twice the dosage of sleeping pills. Her organs started shutting down, but she pulled through. The other time, she fell out of bed because apparently some people choke to death trying to get out between the rails on the bed. So, Mom’s head had a hole in it from hitting the edge of the dresser and blood was everywhere. It makes me wonder why the nurses criticize family members when they make mistakes too. I could have sued over both incidents, but I would never sue people who are trying to heal people, even if they make terrible mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes.

 I took Shock Wave Therapy for my foot, which healed in 4 weeks. But I still had no one to help me with mother and she wasn’t walking yet.

I came to see Mom almost every day. The nurses thought she was being lazy and hard to get along with because she didn’t want to do any exercises or have them do anything to her. She just wanted to sleep. I kept telling them she was sick, but they didn’t believe me. But they had never seen her when she was well. They didn’t know how different she looked.

 It turned out later she was sick with a bladder infection. I then asked a nurse if Mom was getting her vitamin B12 shots. She told me Mom only needed pills not the shots. I told her that was wrong and she lost her temper at me and walked away. Later her feet had bruises on them and a doctor there told me it was because of a lack of vitamin B12.

One nurse told me I needed to push my mother to exercise etc. I said she is 91 and tired; she needs rest and more sleep. The woman was so mad she turned and walked away too. This was how they treated me the whole time.

Later, Mom started to walk with a walker and was sleeping through the night, so I felt I could take care of her again. When I took her home, I let her sleep as much as she wanted. She slept 20 hours a day at first and slowly she slept less and less until she was down to 9 to 10 hours a day. She recovered, which the doctors did not expect.

The next year went very well until she started getting the signs of congestive heart failure. I was so glad I could take care of her by myself the last two years. I know I did an excellent job, no matter what the nurses said and hinted at.

When she was in the hospital for the last time a nurse called me and asked if my mother had been walking with a walker. I told her no, she had told me she couldn’t walk anymore so I had been wheeling her around the apartment in a small travel chair (it is like a small wheelchair). The nurse said, “Well, she is walking.”

Hey, I’m glad she was walking, but it didn’t really matter here at home. She said she couldn’t walk and that was good enough for me. Frankly, it is hard to get over the unkindness of the nurses I dealt with. I’m sure there are also good and kind nurses somewhere.

I hope my experience was unusual, but I also wish there were classes given to medical workers on how to talk with families of patients.

 

 

 

 

My Mother.

My mother in grade 12 in Alberta, Canada.

My mother is in the hospital right now. That's why I haven't been posting lately. She has been slowly going downhill over the last 6 months. She’s a trooper. She is very weak, but in good spirits. Her memory is bad. She doesn’t remember why she is in the hospital, but that doesn’t seem to bother her. I told her yesterday, “You broke your hip and had an operation.”  She said, “That’s more information than I wanted.” She still has her sense of humor and jokes with the nurses.

I’m not sure if she will ever be able to move back in with us as she is so weak and can’t walk. Whatever the Lord wills is good with her and me. She is happy at the hospital because my mother is happy no matter what is happening.

“Your love, Lord, extends to the heavens.

Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.

Your righteousness is like the highest mountains.

Your justice like the great deep.

You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!

People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

They feast on the abundance of your house;

You give them to drink from your river of delights.

For with you is the fountain of life.

In your light we see light.”

Psalm 36:6-9

Elderly Parents and Their Medications.

My mother with my daughter, Christine, 2 years ago,

When my mother turned 88 and started using a cane, I asked her to move in with my husband and myself. She told me she loved her neighborhood and her independence and she didn't want to. As she grew weaker, I asked again and again if she would move in. She finally said to me, "Are you asking me because you want rent money?"  Well, that made me quit asking! Lol

We used to pick her up to visit and have dinner with us, but I rarely went up to her apartment because I have fibromyalgia and was feeling very bad that year. One day, I did go up and was shocked by the kitchen. All the counters were covered with dirty dishes. I could see she hadn't washed any for at least a week. I asked her why and she said, "I keep wanting to, but when I leave the kitchen, I forget." The rest of her apartment was a bit messy, but not too bad. I had also noticed her memory was failing. I finally told her, "Mom, you must move in with us as soon as possible."

Since she had been feeling quite weak that month, she finally said yes. I was relieved. She was very upset at moving all  her things into one bedroom at our place, but I tried to cheer her up and we picked out her favorite things and packed them. I became too sick to finish and so did she, so my daughters came over and did all the rest of the packing.

As my mother became more ill and more forgetful, I asked her if she had been taking her vitamin B12 shot regularly. She swore she had, but I looked on the bottle and it was still almost full and it was a year old. I finally realized why her stomach was upset and why she was so weak and forgetful. She kept asking the same questions over and over. I thought she was getting dementia.

Mom has pernicious anemia, and if someone who has that doesn't keep up with the shots they can become very ill and even die. Mom became pretty angry when I told someone she hadn't kept up those shots. She insisted she had.  I took her to the doctor and yes, she was not only anemic but her iron was too low. This all happened in December of 2015.

I wanted to share this experience with others because I wish I had kept my eye on her medications even when she didn't live with me. Her sister, who was 10 years older than her, had had the same thing happen except she was taking too much medication. This can be a real problem when older people become forgetful.

My mother is very much improved now. Her stomach problems went away and she eats more. She is still weak and she bought a travel chair because she can't walk far. But she is very happy living here now. We have great days together. We watch Joyce Meyer every morning after breakfast. We play Scrabble, if we are up to it. We talk about God, the family and politics. She loves to read so we got her a Kindle so she always has a book. She plays word games on a laptop. She is glad she moved in and so am I. My husband is very good to her and they joke around. They are always excited to order in Chinese food. Lol  I'm sick of it now!

I'm very thankful to God that I can be here for my mother. She is always saying, "What would I do without you?"  And I tell her, "You would have to live in a nursing home and you would do what you always do - be happy. Because that's the kind of person you are; you make the best of everything and are always happy." That is true. No matter what happened in her life, she tried to make the best of it. I've always admired that about her.  Oh yeah, and the rent money comes in handy. lol

I Feel Like A Blob of Slime.

The prayer that is prayed most often in the Bible is, "Lord, have mercy on me."

Someone said God cannot pass by one who says this prayer; not that I think he would bypass any sincere prayer.

Today, I feel like shouting, as Jesus walks by, "Lord, have mercy on me!"

It's been a tough day. I took my mom to the hospital for some scans. We had to take a taxi there and back. My poor mom is weak and can barely walk. She got so tired. She had to drink some stuff that was yucky and felt sick afterwards.

I have social phobia. I'm really frightened of being with people and having to interact with them. So, there are the cab drivers, nurses and patients. I felt nauseated before we even left.  By the time we were done with the hospital and walked in the door, we were both a mess; me, mentally; my mom, physically. We grabbed a bite and went to bed.

I woke at 1:00 pm feeling depressed and hating my life again. But I know how to combat those thoughts by praising and thanking God and looking at the good things. I was okay then. So, I opened my email and there was a nasty letter from someone I don't even know. I felt sick again, physically and mentally.

I've said to my husband, "I don't even know these people. Why do I get sick from what they say about me?"  Oh well, I've marked that site as spam now. I guess all the fear comes from the horrible fear I had of my father as a child. Anger towards me turns me into a puddle of slime on the floor.

And now when I feel afraid, I get these enormous asthma coughing spells. Just writing about this has started me coughing. I talked with my mom about it and started coughing. My sprays hardly work. Obituary: Died from a nasty e-mail. Coughed to death.

That is how my dear brother died. Asthma. Now it is stalking me. I think, "If you had more faith, you idiot, you wouldn't have all this fear and asthma." I'm sure that is true, which gets me coughing even more. Lol

Aren't you glad I shared?

I better go before I pass out. Anyway, I would appreciate some prayers for me.
I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow. May God bless all  who come and visit. In spite of my problems, I know God loves and cares for me just as I am.

Help!

Who am I?

A tired, sick old woman.

I'm sitting here on a Monday night feeling blue. I open my email and read something from Guideposts. This is the verse for today:

“Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in every situation because this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 (NIV)

I know that this verse is the answer for feeling blue. "Give thanks in every situation..." it says. So I say to the Lord, "You know my situation. It looks like my husband may have skin cancer on top of the carcinoid tumors he already has.  My mother is losing her short-term memory rapidly. I am sick with fibromyalgia and have to rest off and on all day. But you are the God of the universe and you are with me." As always, telling God about these things feels good; but what feels better is knowing God is on my side and will help me through this time in my life. 

I was thinking today, "What if I'm too sick to look after my mother? What if I'm too sick to look after my husband? What will we all do? My oldest daughter lives here, but she just got a new job. She has a husband and two stepchildren and an adult son. I'm not going to ask her to help. 

The only thing to do is live one day at a time and pray for strength. Jesus said, "So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today."  I'm sure each day will bring with it a solution. I can be sure because I've seen God do it before. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."  Philippians 4:6,7

Who is God?

Someone who has promised to help us.

"Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand."  Isaiah 41:10

"We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield."  Psalm 33:20

"My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth!"  Psalm 121:2