The Pressure's On

Can't believe so much has happened in the short time since my last post on this blog. I not only ended up in ER once for my bronchitis, but a few days later I drove myself there again when my jaw swelled up enormously in just a couple of hours! Forgive me for worrying about my airways closing with a big knot there bigger than a goose egg on the side of my neck, and not feeling safe to wait for the doctor's office to maybe be able to see me that day. So I just went.

The ER staff totally understood my concerns and supported the decision to come there. But it turned out to just be a salivary gland stone that had blocked up my salivary gland, causing it to swell so much so quickly. With some simple home treatments, I was able to get my jaw back to a normal size. I guess all the medicines I was using to dry up my bronchitis caused the stone to develop.

Then it was Dean's turn to see ER. He began having an adverse reaction to a second blood pressure medicine we were trying him on. I drove him there myself the first time. He was sleeping almost full-time, slurring his words, and was very wobbly on his already wobbly legs. It was increasing fast, and on the weekend, so what do you do?

Then the next night, after we cut the medicine in half as they prescribed, he had another reaction. This time with more mental complications. To make a long story short, I ended up having to call 911 to fetch him back in the middle of the night when he decided to leave the house on his own, not telling me where he went. The police and our neighbors were looking everywhere for him, but fortunately he was found safe and sound a couple of blocks away at the corner gas station. He was resting on a chair they provided for him, with the store clerks about to call the police themselves to see where this obviously delusional old man belonged.

I wish that were the only health crises. But the next night Dean was running blood pressures so high, one of the home health agency nurses did not believe my report and said I wasn't taking it right. So, I ignored her dismissive attitude and called the doctor's office myself, even though it was after hours. So thankful there was an emergency number for his doctor and I immediately called it. He returned my call quickly and said to go ahead and start him on the new medicine he had just prescribed for him in his office earlier that day. Well, that brought the pressure right down. But we're still watching it to see if it will keep it stable enough. It still spikes up there now and then.

Not sure what God is trying to show me with these trials happening all at once. We haven't been to the ER or hospital this many times in the last decade. And now all this in the space of only one month! It may be just a reminder that the closing events of this earth's history will be rapid ones too.

As my mind's spinning with the urgency and seriousness of our situation in this one household, what would it be like if everyone in the world experienced similar crises one right on top of the other?

But the greatest comfort is that God was right there with us through it all. I don't doubt for a minute that things will be calm again here soon for the Thompsons. Just as those final days at the end of time will lead to a beautiful eternity in heaven, without sin or suffering ever to enter our lives again.

Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Caregiving for Me

Two weeks ago I came down with a monster cold. It was so bad even the first day, with my wimpy lungs, that I went to see the doctor for some additional medicines. Even though I had already started using my nebulizer and cough expectorant, I knew that prednisone and even an antibiotic would probably be added. And it was.

I still went home with the fear that this cold would not end without a call to 911 when my coughing spasms would turn into a choking episode. With less than half of my lungs functioning due to a deformed chest cavity (scoliosis), I just don't have the pulmonary power needed to cough up phlegm or even a tiny piece of food or water that might get lodged in my windpipe.

Three days later after an intense coughing spell, I had the phone in my hand almost ready to punch the 911, before I started to get my breath back. A week after that I actually did dial the 911 when I started to choke again, but told the paramedics I was alright and they didn't have to come.

The very next morning I had to call 911, when I couldn't get any air due to the phlegm closing off my breathing. Even though I had thankfully started breathing by the time they got there, and was using my nebulizer, they insisted I needed to go in to ER. Still in my nightgown, I thought to ask for my purse as we went out the door.

The worse part of my ambulance ride was when I looked in my purse and didn't see my car keys! Sometimes I just leave them lying by the purse and sometimes they are in. I was terrified that Dean would get in the car and drive himself to the hospital! He would be OK driving even though he hasn't been a licensed driver for fifteen years, but would he actually be able to find his way to the hospital without getting lost? I doubted it.

My cell phone was in my purse, however, so I managed to call my daughter when I got to the hospital. Bless her heart, her dad had called her about what had happened, just as she was getting off her night shift and gotten almost asleep. But she said she was on the way to the hospital. I tried to divert her to our house first, but she was determined to be by my side and was almost there.

The happy ending was that after a few tests and they didn't see pneumonia or any sign of infection, I was allowed to go home before noon, with another round of meds to get filled at the drug store. I was so thankful that my daughter was there to take me home, and the house was still standing when we got there, although Dean had been pretty shook up over it all.

I had assumed that he would go ahead and take his van to his day program that day, but he hadn't been able to get his socks on, so had stayed home. How could this man have taken care of himself, if I had been admitted to the hospital? I hope I never find out. But it was comforting to know that my daughter and son-in-law are here to step up to the plate and help. I even have a nephew fifty miles away, who would have dropped everything to come, had I needed him.

One thing that brought a smile was when Dean and I went to church this weekend, and they handed him a microphone to share a prayer request. He asked that people pray that his wife not have another coughing "spree". Yep, that described it pretty well. Some people have shopping sprees; I have coughing sprees.

I was indeed thankful that prayers did see us both through this eventful week. But as soon as I feel better, I'm going shopping instead.

my "at home" hospital

Moms in My Life

Today being Mother's Day, I am overcome with emotions from several different fronts. I'm missing my own mother, appreciating my daughter's motherhood of two special granddaughters, recognizing the enormous sacrifice and love of all the women I have known in our family and church circle.

But taking it down to a personal level, as a caregiver, I'm reminded that motherhood doesn't end when a child is grown. We all require a little mothering as we get older. Just a listening ear and shoulder to cry on. Not all moms are as good at that as others, but it's something we need to keep practicing, especially when our  grown children no longer need our physical intervention as much as our emotional and moral support. (And conversely, we mothers need it too. That's why sisterhood was invented.)

Even Dean, who seems to be requiring more and more assistance with the tasks of life, is still in just as much need for someone who understands and appreciates him and his quirky ways, as he is with needing someone to help put his socks on.

As I contemplate our changing family roles, I am tending to embrace my role as caregiver/mother more on a day like today, Mother's Day. I can more easily find reason to celebrate my role, however it transforms itself with Dean over the next few years. I'm ready to be whatever he needs, because it continues to strengthen my relationship with him and with God. And what else is there?

my sister, mother, and I in 2005 (trip to Florida)

Blowing Up Balloons

Another blurp in the medical history books for a Mr. Dean, aka Idaho or Shortcut, (my everloving caregivee-husband). Never thought I'd have to take him to the doctor for blowing up a balloon too hard. Yes, believe it or not, he seems to have ruptured one of his salivary glands (parotid gland, if you want to get medically technical).

I swear he was trying to make as many annoying noises as he could with this balloon he got ahold of the other day. I finally got tired of asking him to tone it down. He was obviously enjoying the highly-pitched squeaks and fart sounds he was creating.

Then I noticed the sounds stopped and he brought to my attention a great big egg-sized lump on the left side of his face, right below his ear on the jawline. Naturally, I went into panic mode inside and asked him how long it had been there. Well, of course, he didn't know. He just felt this pop or something on the side of his face after blowing real hard on the balloon, and there it was!

I tried to stay cool, calm, and collected and careful enough not to feel the lump too vigorously, so as not to burst it or anything. But I was naturally curious whether this would go away by itself. It was evening time, so thought I'd let it wait till the next day before I starting dialing some medical professionals.

Everyone I talked to the next day said it probably needed medical attention, because it was still there in the morning, though not as big. So I took him to the doctor's office that afternoon (their after-hours-you-don't-need-an-appointment time). Fortunately the diagnosis was not as complicated as I'd feared and the doctor just prescribed an antibiotic in case some bacteria might escape. He suspected it would go away on its own though, so we're just waiting to see.

What could I possibly have learned from this silly experience, you ask? Well, I, like Dean's balloon-blowing, have a tendency to blow things out of proportion sometimes. Causing my "worry-wart", like a lump, tendencies to overpower my otherwise calm exterior. During these times I'm sure there must be a worry lump there someplace, if I took the time to look for it.

But, most of the time my worries prove to be unfounded. The final "diagnosis" is not nearly as dramatic as I'd feared. I need the Lord's help not to blow so hard on my "balloons" too.

Eyeglasses Search

The other night found Dean and I once again searching for a misplaced item. His eyeglasses had been missing for a couple of days and I was finally determined to look everywhere for them. He thought they must be in his eyeglass case because it was missing too.

Normally he keeps the case on his bedside stand. So I proceeded to scour that area first. Standing on my head practically to see if it had fallen at the head of the bed or even under the bed. With no success there, I fanned my search out to other areas of the bedroom and then all rooms of the house.

How totally ridiculous I felt when Dean came to bed that night. He lifted one of his two pillows to fluff before lying down, and you guessed it...there was the glasses case! Safely tucked under his pillow.

When trials have come in the past to this household, I've often wondered where God is. No matter how frantically I've searched for God though, it's usually not until I lay down to "rest" that His presence becomes obvious.

Perhaps this is why God gave us a "day of rest". He mysteriously does seem easier to find on the day He blessed for that purpose. Some say that keeping the Sabbath is obeying through our works, but true Sabbath observance is not about works--not about searching frantically on our own--but resting in Jesus and what He's done for us already.

Silly Pleasures

I've heard of people with dementia having wandering behaviors, and I just naturally think of them taking a walk through the neighborhood...actually someone else's neighborhood by the time they get through. Police are often called to assist in these haphazard excursions of the elderly.

But I would like to declare another genre of wandering behavior. It might be called telephone wander lust. Every time Dean sees an 800-number lately he feels compelled to call it. I can't tell you how many times I have rescued him from being a scam target.

The nurse at his doctor's office even called me the other day, wondering if we had put in a request for a back brace. I timidly explained that it was the result of one of his calls, answering a TV ad. It's getting downright scary what he might get himself involved in. And I don't know how to reel him in from this silly and potentially harmful practice.

Most of the time he just gets them to mail us information, as if we don't get enough junk mail already. And speaking of mail. I've also had to be careful of his mailing in postcards and ordering "stuff" with any postage paid invitations that he happens to come across. It doesn't matter what it is, if the word "free" is on it, he wants it. I'm trying to be the first one to the mailbox these days, but it isn't always easy.

I'm not sure why these activities are so enjoyable to him. I think he just has a desire to reach out and feel like he's still a normal human being, who can conduct business on his own.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh with him and allow him these pleasures as long as I can. My first instinct is to get rid of the television, toss out our landline phone, and get our mail delivered to a post office box. But then again, I'll probably just wait and see where it all goes.

After all, isn't God just as patient with some of my silly pleasures?

A Long Stretch

Last night, Dean struck me in the middle of the night. Yes, he's done it before--just stretched his arm over to see if I'm still in bed, but making contact with my nose instead. It's similar to what we do to each other verbally during the day.

We don't mean it. It just happens. And like after our nocturnal mishap, it doesn't take long to forgive each other and move on. Caregiving is fraught with episodes of close verbal contact, that often end up as the "crash and clash" variety.

This is one time Dean's short term memory does us both good though. I need to apologize right away before he forgets the experience. And he needs to apologize right away for the same reason. It sure works for us.

Quick repentance and forgiveness is one lesson the Lord has taught me through this caregiving journey. Life is too short for grudges, guilt, and remorse. It's best to come clean as soon as possible. Even when you get slugged in the face in the middle of the night.