....srsly? Srsly.
Damn, have I been absent from LJ. Sorry. I have no excuses outside this past week.
So a week ago Friday my grandfather (mom's dad) went into the hospital to have surgery. He had esophogeal cancer; they essentially removed most of the esophagus and moved the stomach up in the body cavity to connect to the remainder. The surgery itself has a 60% survival rate for a 40-year old man. My grandfather is 80.
My father went in for surgery Monday for a GIST (gastro-intestinal stromal tumor) They were thinking they'd take out the tumor, part of his small intestine, and part of his pancreas
Cut to Tuesday: my mother calls me at work. We know that Grampa is NOT doing well; he's got pneumonia and has been put on a respirator. Apparently now he's bleeding internally, there's fluid in his lungs, and if the doctors don't do something, he'll die. If they do something, there is a slightly smaller chance he'll die. This was at like 9 in the morning. I could not function the rest of the time I was at work; I cried off and on and actually frightened a couple customers. I ended up leaving at 10.30, being driven home because Justin's car was in for repairs and he dropped me off at work. I called Justin and told him we were going to Ohio.
We pick up the car Tuesday afternoon, pack, and go to bed early. We wake up at 3 am Wednesday, and pack up all our stuff plus the cats, and are on the road by 5.This is the first time our cats have ever traveled more than 10 min by car.It's a 10-hr trip to my house from the apartment. We end up getting to the house at 3.30 or so and unpack our stuff/cats. Cats, by the way, I am incredibly proud of; they were a little anxious in the first couple hours but settled down and were even able to sleep. Didn't eat or drink anything we offered until we were set up at home, but that's still incredibly good for not even having to sedate them.
We visit Dad at Hillcrest Hospital which is 10 min. away from the house, he's got tubes everywhere and a nasal-gastronomical tube (belly drains thru tube in nose) and is draining forest-green bile. He's looking a little pale, but seems to be doing well. We go over to Grampa's hosptial in Warren, where several aunts and uncles and cousins are waiting, and learn that oh, not only is he on a ventilator, he's been put into a chemically induced coma so he can't fight the respirator, and he's also been given a paralytic to make sure he doesn't move around. Wonderful. We had, prior to that, had unlimited visitation in the ICU, but since they sedated him we are restricted to standard ICU visitation, i. e, 10-11 am, 1-2 pm, and 5-6 pm. And only 2 visitors in the room at a time. Fine. Whatever. I have never seen more tubes stuck into a man, not even on House. He's got metal staples in his neck, a drain coming out of his neck, more tubes going on and around his face and chest than I can shake a stick at, and more monitors than I can fully understand. Thank goodness Emmerz is studying nursing and was able to help identify stuff.
We spent the entire week (Justin went to visit his family on Thursday night) visiting Grampa in the hospital in the morning/noon sessions (it's a 1-hour drive from home, we stayed during the two morning sessions and ate lunch) and then driving back to grab a bite and visit Dad in the evening. I didn't realize how draining that kind of stress level was/is. I can't seem to get enough sleep, my period is almost 2 weeks late, and I think I gained 5 lbs just through stress.
Oh and I almost forgot; Thursday night Dad calls me (he is out of the ICU and in a regular room) and tells me that Gramma, his mother, is in teh ER of his hospital. Broken pelvis. She ended up in the floor, room, and bed directly above her son. So now there's 3 people to visit. Bah. Now that the trifecta has been established, I think our family is good for the next what, three years? That'd be awesome.
As of ten minutes ago, Dad is doing well; his NG tube was removed two days ago but put back in because his stomach hasn't woken up from surgery yet. (Apparently intestines/some organs go into a state of paralysis/shock/sleep when handled during surgery, and esp. for the GI tract, it's not safe to be putting even liquids through it until they're ready to process anything.) He has had one small bm, and some gurgly tummy/farts so that shows his lower intestines are functioning. The stomach, we're told, takes longer to wake up. Gramma is doing well; she's been doing Curves which she hates doing, but she loves the results and in this instance, they've taken her from a 3-week rehab to a 1-week rehab, and an excellent recovery outlook. Grampa, however, is not doing well. He's got severe pneumonia, he's got a host of other complications, and to be quite honest I sincerely doubt he will make it. The doctors say he's a fighter, and his is; he's where my mother and I get our stubborn streaks, but I'm not sure he is able to come out of this to the point he will be able to live with his expected quality of life. He's on a DNR, and we all know that he'd rather go to be with his dearly beloved and departed Gracie than kept in the farce of life that is extended life-support. So. That is my melancholy update.I'm going to go curl up on the couch with my beloved and my kitties.
So a week ago Friday my grandfather (mom's dad) went into the hospital to have surgery. He had esophogeal cancer; they essentially removed most of the esophagus and moved the stomach up in the body cavity to connect to the remainder. The surgery itself has a 60% survival rate for a 40-year old man. My grandfather is 80.
My father went in for surgery Monday for a GIST (gastro-intestinal stromal tumor) They were thinking they'd take out the tumor, part of his small intestine, and part of his pancreas
Cut to Tuesday: my mother calls me at work. We know that Grampa is NOT doing well; he's got pneumonia and has been put on a respirator. Apparently now he's bleeding internally, there's fluid in his lungs, and if the doctors don't do something, he'll die. If they do something, there is a slightly smaller chance he'll die. This was at like 9 in the morning. I could not function the rest of the time I was at work; I cried off and on and actually frightened a couple customers. I ended up leaving at 10.30, being driven home because Justin's car was in for repairs and he dropped me off at work. I called Justin and told him we were going to Ohio.
We pick up the car Tuesday afternoon, pack, and go to bed early. We wake up at 3 am Wednesday, and pack up all our stuff plus the cats, and are on the road by 5.This is the first time our cats have ever traveled more than 10 min by car.It's a 10-hr trip to my house from the apartment. We end up getting to the house at 3.30 or so and unpack our stuff/cats. Cats, by the way, I am incredibly proud of; they were a little anxious in the first couple hours but settled down and were even able to sleep. Didn't eat or drink anything we offered until we were set up at home, but that's still incredibly good for not even having to sedate them.
We visit Dad at Hillcrest Hospital which is 10 min. away from the house, he's got tubes everywhere and a nasal-gastronomical tube (belly drains thru tube in nose) and is draining forest-green bile. He's looking a little pale, but seems to be doing well. We go over to Grampa's hosptial in Warren, where several aunts and uncles and cousins are waiting, and learn that oh, not only is he on a ventilator, he's been put into a chemically induced coma so he can't fight the respirator, and he's also been given a paralytic to make sure he doesn't move around. Wonderful. We had, prior to that, had unlimited visitation in the ICU, but since they sedated him we are restricted to standard ICU visitation, i. e, 10-11 am, 1-2 pm, and 5-6 pm. And only 2 visitors in the room at a time. Fine. Whatever. I have never seen more tubes stuck into a man, not even on House. He's got metal staples in his neck, a drain coming out of his neck, more tubes going on and around his face and chest than I can shake a stick at, and more monitors than I can fully understand. Thank goodness Emmerz is studying nursing and was able to help identify stuff.
We spent the entire week (Justin went to visit his family on Thursday night) visiting Grampa in the hospital in the morning/noon sessions (it's a 1-hour drive from home, we stayed during the two morning sessions and ate lunch) and then driving back to grab a bite and visit Dad in the evening. I didn't realize how draining that kind of stress level was/is. I can't seem to get enough sleep, my period is almost 2 weeks late, and I think I gained 5 lbs just through stress.
Oh and I almost forgot; Thursday night Dad calls me (he is out of the ICU and in a regular room) and tells me that Gramma, his mother, is in teh ER of his hospital. Broken pelvis. She ended up in the floor, room, and bed directly above her son. So now there's 3 people to visit. Bah. Now that the trifecta has been established, I think our family is good for the next what, three years? That'd be awesome.
As of ten minutes ago, Dad is doing well; his NG tube was removed two days ago but put back in because his stomach hasn't woken up from surgery yet. (Apparently intestines/some organs go into a state of paralysis/shock/sleep when handled during surgery, and esp. for the GI tract, it's not safe to be putting even liquids through it until they're ready to process anything.) He has had one small bm, and some gurgly tummy/farts so that shows his lower intestines are functioning. The stomach, we're told, takes longer to wake up. Gramma is doing well; she's been doing Curves which she hates doing, but she loves the results and in this instance, they've taken her from a 3-week rehab to a 1-week rehab, and an excellent recovery outlook. Grampa, however, is not doing well. He's got severe pneumonia, he's got a host of other complications, and to be quite honest I sincerely doubt he will make it. The doctors say he's a fighter, and his is; he's where my mother and I get our stubborn streaks, but I'm not sure he is able to come out of this to the point he will be able to live with his expected quality of life. He's on a DNR, and we all know that he'd rather go to be with his dearly beloved and departed Gracie than kept in the farce of life that is extended life-support. So. That is my melancholy update.I'm going to go curl up on the couch with my beloved and my kitties.