Vacation gone wrong�

2006-07-23

It wasn�t really a vacation. It didn�t start well, an argument between me and my husband. Not a good beginning. Not fatal, but not good. The argument was over before the night ended.

But the bad part had really not begun yet.

We arrive in Cambria in the afternoon. The rest of the pack arrived a couple hours behind us and we opened the houses and settled in. My husband and BIL had their usual opening night argument about politics. He and I then argued, but cleared it up soon after.

We had breakfast the next morning. I decided, after a life-long dislike, that I liked waffles. Then he and I went for a walk.

By the time we got back, everything had changed.

When we went into the main house, the first thing that was said to us was that Mom had fallen. The paramedics were on their way. She was laid out on the deck, unable to move or get up. She said it was her knee.

When the paramedics got their, they couldn�t find any obvious source of pain. They transported her to the closest; I do mean closest, hospital. I asked them which was best. They said that they had to tell us which was closest. Youngest sister went in the ambulance. Dad and I followed in their car.

The people in the hospital were kind. They took and x-ray of her knee. They tried to get her up to move a couple of times, but it made her nauseous. I thought it was the pain medication. She�d taken it with only a couple of crackers and some water. The doctor told her she could go ahead and put weight on her leg. To let her pain be her guide.

We did eventually get her back to the house. But she didn�t improve at all. She got worse. After a couple of days, (oh, the guilt I feel for those days) we told her she should go home. Dad, the wonderful spouse and brother-in-law got her into the car. Brother-in-law followed them home, got her into the hospital and came back.

We found out the next day that her hip was broken. They were going to do a hip replacement that day. There was no way youngest sister and her family could get packed up to be there in time for the surgery. But me and my husband could be. So we packed up and headed out. An hour into our four hour drive, Dad called and told us surgery had been postponed. She was having a coagulation problem brought on by taking one of drugs recommended.

She waited two more days before surgery. I went into the hospital to wait with my dad. The surgery was actually over before I got to the hospital. They said it went well, but she was having a hard time waking up from the anesthesia.

Someone had said that she �liked� her narcotics a little too well. That she had been taking high dosages since she�d been in the hospital. She�d actually been trying to avoid taking them at all. She�d initially refused morphine, but had eventually been in such pain that she�d asked for it. That was the reason they�d decided she�d liked the narcotics too much. They gave her high dosages during surgery, and she didn�t start breathing on her own for most of a day. That and the intubation made her feel like she was constantly gagging. So even though she wasn�t totally awake, she was very agitated.

Now, oh crap, they have her in a �rehabilitation� facility. Read that as a human warehouse. They�re not even giving her physical therapy on a daily basis. While she was in the hospital, I asked about alternatives, like therapy in the home. I was left with the impression that it was too much work for them.

I knew, we all knew, that the place would be unpleasant. But we thought there would be care given. Care seems to consist mainly of bedpans. I don�t know what the schedule for physical therapy is, if any. We were prepared to live with the unpleasantness a place like that must be, if she got the care she needed to get well. In a place like that, the only care she�ll get will leave her, and her family, terminally depressed. Dad�s working on getting her out now. Unfortunately, she went in on a Friday. She�s unlikely to get out, even by Monday.

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