When the Bough Breaks...

Friday an amazing thing happened. A large tree branch fell down and landed on our driveway, just inches from the tail end of our car. There was no wind involved, no lightning or thunderstorm in sight. It was sunny and nice outside. But there it was. Taking up half our front yard, after a neighbor helped Dean drag it off the driveway. The branch didn't appear rotten or dying at all. It was the strangest thing!

I called the man who mows our lawn, hoping he'd have some ideas on how to remove this "tree" from our yard. Larry said he'd see to it and not to worry. He needed to buy another chain saw anyway and would be by in a day or two to take care of it.

Today he came and I finally knew the reason God let this branch fall. Dean went out to see Larry and his new chain saw when he came by to cut up the huge "tree". After a time, I looked out the window and saw Dean bending over cutting on the tree with Larry's new saw!

I grabbed my camera and caught Dean using the chain saw. Even though it was much smaller than the one he was used to, I know it must have brought back a lot of pleasant memories for Dean when he logged in Montana and Idaho. I overheard him telling some of his logging stories to Larry as they worked.

I marveled at my wonderful God, who cares enough about one old man to let a tree branch fall, simply to allow him the joy of reliving some of his past.

Glad no one was hurt! It was a BIG one!!!

Dean using a chain saw--WOW!

Special thanks to Larry for a job well-done, and going beyond the call of duty!

Home Alone

A preliminary assessment with a small monitor that Dean wore at home one night led to a decision for a complete sleep study to check his breathing while he slept, which meant a possible diagnosis of sleep apnea.

When they called me to schedule it at one of the sleep clinics here in town, I asked numerous questions about their setup and procedures out of concern for Dean's peculiar night-time needs. When I described his fall risk and symptoms of dementia, she determined that a hospital setting might be warranted for his safety.

So after four emergency room visits last month between the two of us (see my previous post), when each time a hospital stay seemed quite possible, Dean finally earned his hospital stay just to monitor his nighttime sleeping habits! And it wasn't even through the emergency room!

I wasn't about to complain though. It would mean a night of freedom for me, and since it was in the hospital, that also meant freedom from worry. On the way home, after dropping him off at the hospital in the evening, I thought about how to celebrate my night alone. Should I go shopping, eat at a restaurant, go see a friend?

But then I thought, no, I'll just go home and enjoy my freedom there. It would be a night of relaxation. I would choose a DVD to watch, without haggling over the choice with someone and having to pause it every time that person got up to leave the room. I would leave lights on in rooms I left, without having to go back and turn them off if I forgot. I would leave the toilet seat up or down as I pleased, and not even change the toilet paper roll immediately when it ran out. I might not even pick up after myself. My purse and keys would remain ON the table, instead of under it out of sight.

The evening was sounding more and more inviting. Only occasionally did I harbor thoughts of how Dean was faring at the hospital. Or how the hospital staff was faring with him there.

It wasn't until I got home with him the next morning that I learned that perhaps he was not enjoying his night away as much as I was. When I got there he seemed perfectly happy, feasting on his second pastry and downing a glass of orange juice.

The truth came out in the answering machine messages that awaited me when I got home. Three times he had called and told me that I could come and get him any time. He sounded rather desperate to get home, so it was good I got there when I did.

Evidently they had tried a C-PAP on him during the night, when he showed signs of needing one to see if it would make a difference. He said his nose felt like it was burning, with all that air blowing in there. Oh, my, I hope we can resolve this and find the best overall solution if he does have sleep apnea. I'm trying not to think about it.

Those messages on our answering machine still play in my mind though. I too am anxious to go home...home to heaven, where true rest and relaxation exists for an eternity, and not just a brief night while our loved ones struggle somewhere else. Help me not to lose my zeal for that homecoming called The Second Coming. "This world is not my home..."

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.