My Dad -- Update #5
This afternoon was really, really, really hard.
I visited him for nearly two hours. By myself. My Mom was there for the bulk of the day, I think. I saw her when I visited on my lunch break. She had her knitting in tow.
I arrived and he was wiggling about the bed, his gown askew, trying to worm out of the restraints. He begged me to take them off. I did. Only because I was there and would be able to watch him. He keeps taking off his heart monitor as well as other "lines" or whatever they are called. Once he had freedom of movement, he calmed down a lot.
He told me that I didn't understand what was going on. He confided that he thought he had died.
He slept for much of the time I was with him. Someone came and took his blood. Another person came and gave him a breathing treatment. He really disliked the the breathing treatment. The tech was the same one who accompanied him to the Critical Care unit on Thursday and is the one who set up his MRI vent.
About the time of the breathing treatment is when he started getting really agitated. Just before the tech arrived, I had spoken with my Mom and had told her how I had removed his restraints. She quite adamantly told me to put them back on! I did. It's no surprise he doesn't like being tied down. He pulls and pulls. He kicks his legs and exposes himself. He was commanding me to take them off. I kept saying no and explained how they were for his own good...if he pulled out his catheter or heart monitor or any of the other lines, it wouldn't be any good for him. He, of course, just doesn't understand. It felt very much like a stand off. I felt almost 16 again, not doing something he was telling me to do. Only this time I had all the power. I didn't like it. He said he would slap me if I didn't take them off. He then tried to bite me. He even managed to kick me in the breast. I think the latter was a complete accident on his part. I was holding his hand at one point and he began to dig his nails into my hand. I'm not sure if it was on purpose or not. I told him I would be back in the morning before work and he said he didn't care.
I left very close to tears. I sat down near the elevator and cried. I got to my car and cried some more. I know he isn't himself. It's the drugs and whatever the hell is wrong with him which is causing him to act out.
I'm not prepared for dealing effectively with this situation.
I visited him for nearly two hours. By myself. My Mom was there for the bulk of the day, I think. I saw her when I visited on my lunch break. She had her knitting in tow.
I arrived and he was wiggling about the bed, his gown askew, trying to worm out of the restraints. He begged me to take them off. I did. Only because I was there and would be able to watch him. He keeps taking off his heart monitor as well as other "lines" or whatever they are called. Once he had freedom of movement, he calmed down a lot.
He told me that I didn't understand what was going on. He confided that he thought he had died.
He slept for much of the time I was with him. Someone came and took his blood. Another person came and gave him a breathing treatment. He really disliked the the breathing treatment. The tech was the same one who accompanied him to the Critical Care unit on Thursday and is the one who set up his MRI vent.
About the time of the breathing treatment is when he started getting really agitated. Just before the tech arrived, I had spoken with my Mom and had told her how I had removed his restraints. She quite adamantly told me to put them back on! I did. It's no surprise he doesn't like being tied down. He pulls and pulls. He kicks his legs and exposes himself. He was commanding me to take them off. I kept saying no and explained how they were for his own good...if he pulled out his catheter or heart monitor or any of the other lines, it wouldn't be any good for him. He, of course, just doesn't understand. It felt very much like a stand off. I felt almost 16 again, not doing something he was telling me to do. Only this time I had all the power. I didn't like it. He said he would slap me if I didn't take them off. He then tried to bite me. He even managed to kick me in the breast. I think the latter was a complete accident on his part. I was holding his hand at one point and he began to dig his nails into my hand. I'm not sure if it was on purpose or not. I told him I would be back in the morning before work and he said he didn't care.
I left very close to tears. I sat down near the elevator and cried. I got to my car and cried some more. I know he isn't himself. It's the drugs and whatever the hell is wrong with him which is causing him to act out.
I'm not prepared for dealing effectively with this situation.