Depletion and Optimism: An Ungainly Pair
I am far too exhausted to write a full and complete account of this week, so this will be the bare bones version. Maybe. It's well documented (especially in this blog) that "short versions" are seldom so.
Stayed with my mom from Monday onwards. Keeping up with household stuff, cooking for her, keeping track of her pain meds & muscle relaxers, and generally keeping her company while she was in too much discomfort to sleep (she could barely recline, let alone actually lay down).
Wednesday afternoon we got a call from her doctor: He had just received the report back from the radiologist. Diagnosis? Three broken ribs (which we already knew) and what appeared to be a partially collapsed right lung.
Within 5 minutes, we were out the door and headed to the ER @ Spectrum Hospital in Grand Rapids. I'm glad we thought to grab what we did (my mom's toiletries bag, which was already packed for a business trip she was supposed to go on in a few days), because the doc called ahead and we got through triage immediately (literally did not even get to sit down in a chair before the called her in) then into an exam room.
Diagnosis? Hemopneumothorax. In laymen's terms.. a double condition of having both air and blood in the chest cavity, due to the puncture of the lung itself.
They called in the ER surgeon and explained what had to be done. (Keep in mind, she'd now had internal bleeding and increased pressure & pain from it, for 5 days now!)
Chest tube inserted between her ribs, into her chest cavity, to drain the air, blood, and fluids. Today when I left, she had over 350 mL of blood & fluid that had been drained, and is still draining although it is less and less blood (which means the internal bleeding has mostly stopped). For the record, the tube is about as thick as my thumb. Very uncomfy.
I stayed with her the entire time (until leaving this evening to begin packing for Sunday's move) and finally managed to get about 3 hours of shitty sleep last night (after having been awake for 41+ hours).
The staff is WONDERFUL. I was truly impressed and I know that she's in good hands. She's quite stable at this point and her pain meds have been reduced so she's lucid & not foggy. The drainage from her chest is reducing to the point that it can probably be removed Sunday or Monday. Following the removal, she'll have 24 hours of observation and then she can go home.
The silver lining to this entire event? The round the clock time we spent together for the past 5 days strengthened our bond even more. It also gave me an opportunity to take truly take care of her, because she was completely unable to do so herself and that was a great feeling. I told her that even though she took care of me for so long, that when it comes to her I draw the line at changing diapers, LOL. For those who don't know (or know of) her, she thought that was hilarious. I had to wait til today to say that, because today was the first day that laughing didn't hurt her. ^_^*
While I still feel palpably anxious about leaving her alone in the hospital I KNOW that my mom is a tough cookie, I know how exemplary staff is, and that she's well enough to not require 24/7 observation & assistance.
Stayed with my mom from Monday onwards. Keeping up with household stuff, cooking for her, keeping track of her pain meds & muscle relaxers, and generally keeping her company while she was in too much discomfort to sleep (she could barely recline, let alone actually lay down).
Wednesday afternoon we got a call from her doctor: He had just received the report back from the radiologist. Diagnosis? Three broken ribs (which we already knew) and what appeared to be a partially collapsed right lung.
Within 5 minutes, we were out the door and headed to the ER @ Spectrum Hospital in Grand Rapids. I'm glad we thought to grab what we did (my mom's toiletries bag, which was already packed for a business trip she was supposed to go on in a few days), because the doc called ahead and we got through triage immediately (literally did not even get to sit down in a chair before the called her in) then into an exam room.
Diagnosis? Hemopneumothorax. In laymen's terms.. a double condition of having both air and blood in the chest cavity, due to the puncture of the lung itself.
They called in the ER surgeon and explained what had to be done. (Keep in mind, she'd now had internal bleeding and increased pressure & pain from it, for 5 days now!)
Chest tube inserted between her ribs, into her chest cavity, to drain the air, blood, and fluids. Today when I left, she had over 350 mL of blood & fluid that had been drained, and is still draining although it is less and less blood (which means the internal bleeding has mostly stopped). For the record, the tube is about as thick as my thumb. Very uncomfy.
I stayed with her the entire time (until leaving this evening to begin packing for Sunday's move) and finally managed to get about 3 hours of shitty sleep last night (after having been awake for 41+ hours).
The staff is WONDERFUL. I was truly impressed and I know that she's in good hands. She's quite stable at this point and her pain meds have been reduced so she's lucid & not foggy. The drainage from her chest is reducing to the point that it can probably be removed Sunday or Monday. Following the removal, she'll have 24 hours of observation and then she can go home.
The silver lining to this entire event? The round the clock time we spent together for the past 5 days strengthened our bond even more. It also gave me an opportunity to take truly take care of her, because she was completely unable to do so herself and that was a great feeling. I told her that even though she took care of me for so long, that when it comes to her I draw the line at changing diapers, LOL. For those who don't know (or know of) her, she thought that was hilarious. I had to wait til today to say that, because today was the first day that laughing didn't hurt her. ^_^*
While I still feel palpably anxious about leaving her alone in the hospital I KNOW that my mom is a tough cookie, I know how exemplary staff is, and that she's well enough to not require 24/7 observation & assistance.