Monday, February 4, 2019

Monday, February 4, 2019, 10:30 pm


            I left early today because I was utterly exhausted. Besides the grief and the worry, I don’t do well in confined air-conditioned places.  I attended a conference and was in a hotel for a week straight.  I felt lousy just from that.  I think I could die from just being in a hospital for a long time. 
            Fortunately, there are some spots for connecting with nature.  Believe it or not, just outside the parking lot. The parking lot goes down five stories. I know you’re thinking if it goes down, how can there be connection to nature.  I’m in Hawaii; everything is built into one mountain or another. The hospital itself sits higher up than the parking lot.  All five floors of the parking lot are above ground, even though they are all below the hospital building.  I discovered this small waterfall yesterday.   I heard it as I got out of the car, went over to the wall, and spent a few minutes there rejuvenating.   Today, I got a different view.  These are untended spots; its nature doing her own thing with what man has left for her to work with. 
            I met this woman staff member riding up in the elevator today.  For some reason, I mentioned the views from the parking lot.  She said yes, and referred to the waterfall.  I wonder how many of the staff members are aware of the views of nature right at the edge of this cement structure.  I thought this is just luck. Sharing this experience with someone else made it even stronger for me.
            I went to the Bnb after I left the hospital where I’m staying and slept for three hours.  I woke up around 7pm and called Mike’s son.  I told him Mike had been ‘downgraded’ (equals improved) and moved out of the ICU to a floor.  He still has a sitter, thank God.  This is someone who sits with him 24/7.  It isn’t always the same person; they switch off every 8 hours, and the sitter gets scheduled breaks. 
            I called to speak to Mike’s nurse, and the operator connected me directly to his room. His sitter, Lila (the I is pronounced like a long e), answered the phone. She said he was fine.  He was still on the nasal oxygen tubes instead of the mask.  The respiratory therapist said he would probably need to go back on the mask because he doesn’t have the strength to breathe consistently on his own.  The therapist had had him off the mask before, but eventually, his oxygen level dropped, and they had to go to plan B. I don’t know how long he had been off before, but I was pleased to see he was still off the mask.
            I called Damon to update him.  Our big problem is that Mike won’t/can’t sleep.  I have been working with him on giving up control, feeling he is the only one who can fix this problem.  He keeps asking,” What can I do?” When we tell him, “Just sleep,” he doesn’t get it. 
            Damon asked an interesting question.  He said, “Is he afraid he’ll die if he goes to sleep?” Wow! I immediately called Mike to ask him that question. The answer was yes. 
            Now, I have gone over and over with him how carefully he is being monitored and that he doesn’t have to think he has to rely on himself.  But all to no avail.  But this question is different. I called his room and spoke to Lila. She said that I had better talk to the nurse.  Unfortunately, Mike is very expertise oriented; reason alone doesn’t do the job. My word, my explanation isn’t good enough.  He needs to hear it from the horse’s mouth.   I called to speak to the nurse.  She was dealing with chest pains in another room at the time.  I was told she would call me back.  My concern is that they will just tell him again, “Just go to sleep.  This is what you’re body needs,” instead of directly addressing his concern that he will die.  He needs to hear he won’t cause his death.
            Mike and I deal with medical issues very differently. This has been one source of conflict in our lives, which we resolved by simply respecting each other’s choices. Mike is strictly AMA; if the doctor says so, it is.  He insists that conditions are all genetic; I insist that I can change things myself. We each have picked a horse to ride in this race.  I could say mine is the better one because I seem to be winning, but there is also an element of luck involved here and possibly genetics.  There is a strong possibility that his pancreatitis was caused by some of the medications he is taking.  While he grabs for the pill bottle, I rebuff suggestions that I should take pills.  I like to say that the only medication I am on is 10 mg of Lexapro for my husband’s anxiety.  There is an element of truth to that comment.  But as it winds up, it also helps with my hot flashes. ( 28 years and counting).
             Nurse Wendy, with a  thick Southern accent, called back at 10 pm.  I told her explicitly what to say to him.  I told her that just telling him not to worry and sleep won’t work. She said his need to control is a typical man thing.  I told her that it was compounded by his childhood experiences and that she should address his concerns directly and not obliquely.  That she should also be explicit about the reasons, he needn’t be vigilant himself, telling him about the people who are eyes on and the machines that will make a racket if anything looks off.  Hopefully, this works.  All prayers for Mike’s ability to sleep would be appreciated.  Not sleeping will tax his body and prolong his illness.  And I will sleep so much better knowing he is sleeping well.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Today would be my father’s 117th birthday. He died 64 years ago when I was 15.) I took videos of the wildlife for my three-year-old grand-ne...