Dad slipped in the bathroom 5 days ago and lay bleeding and injured on the floor for 14 hours. He couldn’t reach the call button and he had removed his safety pendant to take a shower. He wasn’t able to answer his phone or door; eventually the housekeeper heard him yelling and he was rescued. He is physically damaged but mentally alert, and will hopefully respond to intense therapy. The rehab unit is located next door to his regular building - there was one bed available which was held for him.
Moments that will stick with me for a long time:
• The treating physician at Scripps Hospital ER calling to ask if he could text me photos of Dad’s battered face to consult to make sure the swelling was related to skin cancer treatment and not the fall – versus Dad’s regular specialist laughing when I tried to send him a picture, saying “I don’t do tele-dermatology, honey.”
• Dad’s friend Shirley taking me into a hallway to press ziplock baggies and rubber bands into my hands, her caring effort to keep my father safe in the shower.
• Rushing into Dad’s room with a box full of Costco hot dogs and sauerkraut to find 3 nutritionists discussing his dietary preferences and their recommendations for a healthier lifestyle – oops.
• Dad somehow broke the audio on 2 TVs – one in his hospital room, one in rehab. I believe it was Mom showing up to get a word in.
• The occupational therapist asking Dad to take off his shirt and he responded “what for? I barely know you!”
• Dad introducing himself at the dining room table to 4 semi-functional ladies with “Hi I’m Sidney and I’ve been a damn fool” (they ignored him).
• 99-year old Ida’s withering look when I asked if she was able to hike over to the rehab unit with me to visit Sid (she walks faster than me).
• Ida telling me how she was mad at Sid for being a sloppy eater, he embarrasses her at special events because he doesn’t tuck in his shirt. I informed her that since one of my best friends just died from an exploding heart, and my brilliant, kind and somewhat messy father almost died a week later, I really didn’t give a crap about etiquette. She then shut up and apologized.
• The physical therapist on his medical team who recognized me and said “hey aren’t you the one who taught us how to dance Thriller?” (karma paying forward).
• The nurse who stopped me in the parking lot to tell me that the list of medications I provided was incredibly helpful because it not only listed Dad’s drugs, but WHEN he took them throughout the day. It allows the staff to better calibrate his meds. Dad prepared the list on his computer 2 years ago; I found and updated it. We both get bonus points for good planning.
Please prepare the following, if not for yourself, then for the people who will be taking care of you:
• Living Will and Advance Directive. Google the free templates and just do it, look at http://www.agingwithdignity.org/
• Healthcare Proxy. Who will make medical decisions if you can’t talk?
• Have your current insurance card on file. Bills going to the wrong place are a nightmare to fix.
Emergency responders had to access all of these documents within 5 minutes for my father’s treatment. Some of the documents kept by his facility were out of date. I had everything ready in a binder that I carefully prepared – and the binder was in Seattle, with me. Luckily I showed up on the scene pretty fast. Fortunately the EMTs and doctors made smart assumptions and everything went smoothly.
Dad is getting excellent health care, I am impressed and grateful. I’m now in Seattle and will be driving back to San Diego in a few days; I’ll be there for a month. This trip was already planned; however it now takes on enhanced importance. Sid has a new state-of-the-art waterproof watch that will function as an emergency alert system linked to activity sensors, tell the time, track medication and even track his steps (no, it’s not a groovy Apple watch, it’s a Lively Smartwatch: http://www.mylively.com/). And he has promised to actually wear it.
No comments:
Post a Comment