Whacky Wednesday

And I do mean whacky.

Tuesday night around 10:30, Loren texted that he had not been able to reach Dad by phone in his hospital room. I called up to the nurses' desk to check on things. Oh my. I spoke with a woman named Melanie who was clearly not a native English speaker, so our communication was difficult. She told me that she was about to call me because Dad was giving them a hard time. He was getting out of bed and trying to walk around. They were concerned about him falling. Plus he really was not dressed appropriately for walking around. (snicker-me, not Melanie) She also conveyed that Dad was not entirely lucid.

I asked about a bed alarm. Melanie said he was taking it off. I asked about providing a bed in which the bed sensor worked instead of using a clip on alarm. Melanie either did not understand or did not like that idea. I explained that Dad seems to get hospital dementia and said we just need to get him the medicine he needs and get him home. Melanie suggested it might just be his age. I reminded her that he was diagnosed with sepsis and pneumonia, was she saying that was caused by old age? No, no, she meant the dementia. I asked if the doctor had ever been by. She didn't know. I asked if the blood work results were in. She said the blood work was clear. I exclaimed incredulously that there was something growing the day before and now it was clear? Yes, it is clear. Oh my. Melanie asked if a family member could come spend the night with Dad.

We had a quick family meeting, I kissed everyone goodbye, and headed for the hospital. In my head was playing the music from Wizard of Oz, when Almira Gulch is riding her bike down the road to get Toto. Dave suggested I ask for the charge nurse when I arrived, so I did. And guess who it was? Yup, Melanie. Not a good sign. I was not happy with the whole situation.

Some positives: Dad had just returned from a CT scan. His room was much cleaner than earlier in the day. His bed was freshly made up. He knew who I was most of the time. His gown was still dirty, but when a tech came in to get Dad's vitals, she asked if he wanted a clean gown. He demurred, I accepted. The staff was really, really nice and accomodating all night long.

When I walked in and greeted Dad, my new friend Melanie was with me. I told Dad I had come to spend the night with him. (He thought I was there for a test with Mom.)

Gwen: Dad, I talked to Melanie. Guess what she told me?

Dad: (pause) That I'm getting out of bed.

Stinker!

Really, he had a good night. He slept lightly for most of the night, only tried to get out of bed once and that was to go to the bathroom. At one point, he thought he was at home, so I asked him to tell me where he was.

Dad: Well, if I was consigned to hell, I'd say this was hell.

Gwen: (laughing) You're not going to hell, so where are you?

Dad: Heaven.

Gwen: How about somewhere in between?

Dad: Earth.

Gwen: Where on earth?

Dad: The ground. Not really. The concrete.

Gwen: What is this room?

Dad: The hospital.

Dad coughed vigorously all through the night. Around five in the morning, Dad started feeling nauseous. He threw up several times, not huge amounts. I stayed til 9:15, when I needed to go pick up Mom for her CT scan.

One great benefit of this whole episode is that the hospital is now providing a sitter for Dad. This person just sort of, well, sits, and keeps an eye on Dad. She will talk to him if he gets confused and keep him where he is supposed to be.