Yes, I know. Technically, every day starts at mid-night. However, most sane persons are tucked safely in bed, fast asleep at that hour.
Last night, I went to bed at a reasonable hour, say ten "old time", eleven by the already set-ahead clocks. (I detest "Daylight Savings Time", you know.) I was nearly asleep (or perhaps had been dozing) when my phone started ringing. I honestly probably wouldn't have heard it except that I heard Savannah stumbling down the stairs. I assumed it was Grandma and I knew I should get out of bed immediately, but I thought I would lay there until Savannah called me (I wasn't in very good shape). However, after what may have been five or more minutes and still not being called, I figured that I really had better get out of my comfortable bed and go see what was up.
It was actually Mama. Grandma had called her, rather upset. I think that Daddy was on the phone with Grandma simultaneously to Mama being on the phone with us...but I'm not really completely sure about that. What I do know is that Grandpa had had another "crime scene" and I was asked to go out. I was practically in tears, feeling crazy stressed and completely overwhelmed, but I forced the salt-water back and poked out my stubborn chin and tromped out--after tucking my nightgown down into my coveralls.
I helped get Grandpa cleaned up and cleaned up the floor...
We managed to get some protein shake/chocolate milk into him--actually Savannah did. I fixed it up, but while she talked Grandpa through the drinking of said concoction I sat cross-legged on the floor talking with Mum.
When we came in, it was 1:00 o'clock "real time" and I was hungry. Anyway, Savannah and I had us a real mid-night snack of fried eggs. I can fry an egg half-asleep to perfection it seems. :P Bragging on myself...sorry. Actually, I managed to bust both my yolks, but Savannah's were perfect.
I woke up about 8:30 (7:30 if it were yesterday) and by the time I had gotten my coffee, both Savannah and I decided to play going to church by ear. As it turns out, it was providential that we did not manage it. We went out to the apartment about 10-ish, I guess it was, and it was soon apparent that Grandpa needed to go to the doctor. He was still refusing food and while we did get a chocolate milk and a plain ol' warm milk down him, food was NOT going into him and, as Grandma had noted, he was not urinating.
In order to get the wheelchair van out of the barn required breaking the hold the ice still had on the bottom of the door. After taking the edger tool to it and breaking it up some on the outside of the door and yanking and pulling and panting (both inside and out), I 'chanced' to remark something about a crowbar. Savannah saw one and picked it up and started banging. I saw a serious pry bar (tall as me). Grabbing it I said, "Git out of the way." (I was still a little groggy so it probably sounded harsher than I meant it to.)
Savannah backed off and I gave the wood along the bottom of the door a couple of serious smashing blows and the door was free.
To cut a long story shorter, we eventually got Grandpa loaded and to the hospital.
They put a catheter in him (I cringe at the thought!) and it was quite obvious that he has a UTI. He was also dehydrated and the ER doctor (who reminded me a little of my cousin's husband) said that his kidneys were in the process of failing--which Grandma already had said. They put him on a saline IV immediately as well as an antibiotic via the drip-line.
Grandpa was half-out of his head most of the day. He apparently woke up on the battlefield and was initially (as he thought) in a field hospital. Even though he knew who we were, he asked if we were field nurses. That was what was so strange about his hallucination--he was perfectly clear and was aware of what was really going on around him, but he was equally certain of his dreams. Grandma has still not learned to "play along" with hallucinations...and Savannah does it better than I do. At any rate, he was crying on and off throughout the day. Partly due, I know, to his memories of Harold, his uncle who was but five years his senior and his best friend. Harold was killed during the war. (WWII)
Anyway, Savannah had forgotten to bring the food with us that she had prepared before we left, so I was getting really hungry...however, and I thank God for this especial providential blessing upon myself today, I simply "got hungry" and did not have the requisite irritation both emotional and physical (burning stomach, et al) that so frequently accompanies my hunger. She went home at some point to bring both Grandma and myself something to eat and to pick up a few other things that were necessary. She got back around 5:30.
That was the best egg sandwich ever.
Shortly after my appetite was sated, Grandpa's supper arrived. While he did not eat it all, he ate over half of it (I think) and enjoyed every bite (particularly that hash brown, I think). He drank the milk that came with it and the coffee (another providential blessing--they had put one sugar packet on his tray and it was not sufficient to sweeten his coffee to taste; however, the dinner tray cart had been left just outside his door...and I was able to snitch the last two sugar packets off it!). This is the best he has eaten and drank probably for at least two days, so it was good to see him eating and apparently enjoying it. He had half a piece of cake too. (All that sugar...I'd be tipsy if I had that much!)
We left to come home shortly after that...I had to feed chickens and I like to do that before it gets dark. I took care of a few other little things that needed doing before I went to the shower...and I think we are fixing to eat again. :) For which I am glad because I'm getting hungry again. I have sort of caught up with my fluid intake--since getting home, I have had over a quart and a half of water.
Overall, I think Grandpa is doing much better this evening than he was this morning. Grandma has stayed with him at the hospital, for the expressed purpose of being able to see the doctor when he comes in (as it may be early). Hopefully, the fluid getting into Grandpa will, for lack of a better, more scientific term/understanding of the situation, re-kick-start his kidney's into full and proper functioning.
I shall sleep soundly tonight, Lord willing, knowing that Grandpa is not in my hands...but in both those of persons who really know what they are dealing with...and ultimately in the hands of my Heavenly Father.
Last night, I went to bed at a reasonable hour, say ten "old time", eleven by the already set-ahead clocks. (I detest "Daylight Savings Time", you know.) I was nearly asleep (or perhaps had been dozing) when my phone started ringing. I honestly probably wouldn't have heard it except that I heard Savannah stumbling down the stairs. I assumed it was Grandma and I knew I should get out of bed immediately, but I thought I would lay there until Savannah called me (I wasn't in very good shape). However, after what may have been five or more minutes and still not being called, I figured that I really had better get out of my comfortable bed and go see what was up.
It was actually Mama. Grandma had called her, rather upset. I think that Daddy was on the phone with Grandma simultaneously to Mama being on the phone with us...but I'm not really completely sure about that. What I do know is that Grandpa had had another "crime scene" and I was asked to go out. I was practically in tears, feeling crazy stressed and completely overwhelmed, but I forced the salt-water back and poked out my stubborn chin and tromped out--after tucking my nightgown down into my coveralls.
I helped get Grandpa cleaned up and cleaned up the floor...
We managed to get some protein shake/chocolate milk into him--actually Savannah did. I fixed it up, but while she talked Grandpa through the drinking of said concoction I sat cross-legged on the floor talking with Mum.
When we came in, it was 1:00 o'clock "real time" and I was hungry. Anyway, Savannah and I had us a real mid-night snack of fried eggs. I can fry an egg half-asleep to perfection it seems. :P Bragging on myself...sorry. Actually, I managed to bust both my yolks, but Savannah's were perfect.
I woke up about 8:30 (7:30 if it were yesterday) and by the time I had gotten my coffee, both Savannah and I decided to play going to church by ear. As it turns out, it was providential that we did not manage it. We went out to the apartment about 10-ish, I guess it was, and it was soon apparent that Grandpa needed to go to the doctor. He was still refusing food and while we did get a chocolate milk and a plain ol' warm milk down him, food was NOT going into him and, as Grandma had noted, he was not urinating.
In order to get the wheelchair van out of the barn required breaking the hold the ice still had on the bottom of the door. After taking the edger tool to it and breaking it up some on the outside of the door and yanking and pulling and panting (both inside and out), I 'chanced' to remark something about a crowbar. Savannah saw one and picked it up and started banging. I saw a serious pry bar (tall as me). Grabbing it I said, "Git out of the way." (I was still a little groggy so it probably sounded harsher than I meant it to.)
Savannah backed off and I gave the wood along the bottom of the door a couple of serious smashing blows and the door was free.
To cut a long story shorter, we eventually got Grandpa loaded and to the hospital.
They put a catheter in him (I cringe at the thought!) and it was quite obvious that he has a UTI. He was also dehydrated and the ER doctor (who reminded me a little of my cousin's husband) said that his kidneys were in the process of failing--which Grandma already had said. They put him on a saline IV immediately as well as an antibiotic via the drip-line.
Grandpa was half-out of his head most of the day. He apparently woke up on the battlefield and was initially (as he thought) in a field hospital. Even though he knew who we were, he asked if we were field nurses. That was what was so strange about his hallucination--he was perfectly clear and was aware of what was really going on around him, but he was equally certain of his dreams. Grandma has still not learned to "play along" with hallucinations...and Savannah does it better than I do. At any rate, he was crying on and off throughout the day. Partly due, I know, to his memories of Harold, his uncle who was but five years his senior and his best friend. Harold was killed during the war. (WWII)
Anyway, Savannah had forgotten to bring the food with us that she had prepared before we left, so I was getting really hungry...however, and I thank God for this especial providential blessing upon myself today, I simply "got hungry" and did not have the requisite irritation both emotional and physical (burning stomach, et al) that so frequently accompanies my hunger. She went home at some point to bring both Grandma and myself something to eat and to pick up a few other things that were necessary. She got back around 5:30.
That was the best egg sandwich ever.
Shortly after my appetite was sated, Grandpa's supper arrived. While he did not eat it all, he ate over half of it (I think) and enjoyed every bite (particularly that hash brown, I think). He drank the milk that came with it and the coffee (another providential blessing--they had put one sugar packet on his tray and it was not sufficient to sweeten his coffee to taste; however, the dinner tray cart had been left just outside his door...and I was able to snitch the last two sugar packets off it!). This is the best he has eaten and drank probably for at least two days, so it was good to see him eating and apparently enjoying it. He had half a piece of cake too. (All that sugar...I'd be tipsy if I had that much!)
We left to come home shortly after that...I had to feed chickens and I like to do that before it gets dark. I took care of a few other little things that needed doing before I went to the shower...and I think we are fixing to eat again. :) For which I am glad because I'm getting hungry again. I have sort of caught up with my fluid intake--since getting home, I have had over a quart and a half of water.
Overall, I think Grandpa is doing much better this evening than he was this morning. Grandma has stayed with him at the hospital, for the expressed purpose of being able to see the doctor when he comes in (as it may be early). Hopefully, the fluid getting into Grandpa will, for lack of a better, more scientific term/understanding of the situation, re-kick-start his kidney's into full and proper functioning.
I shall sleep soundly tonight, Lord willing, knowing that Grandpa is not in my hands...but in both those of persons who really know what they are dealing with...and ultimately in the hands of my Heavenly Father.
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