February 8, 2016. When I woke up this morning, I thought I heard Dad and Mom talking, but when I went downstairs to check on them, she was sleeping, and he was rolling over in bed. I donned my scrubs and headed to my parents’ office to work. Shortly after 4:30 A.M., I heard Dad calling out my name. When I entered the master bedroom, he told me that he was ready to get up. He had not yet consumed three cans of Nepro overnight. I persuaded him to try to sleep for a bit longer. In the end, he stayed in bed until 6:15 A.M. Dianne came in and unhooked Dad from the now-empty tube feed and helped him into the wheelchair. Dad shaved, got dressed, and headed into the kitchen to prepare his hot water while Mom got dressed. While Dad read the paper, Mom prepared pancakes for their breakfast.
At 7:40 A.M., Dad said that he wanted to lie down. When he returned to the bedroom, I prepared his meds and watched as Mom administered them. While Dad took a short nap, Dianne called Becky to see if Michell would be returning tomorrow. Michell’s mother had undergone gallbladder surgery last week, and I didn’t know if her mother’s recuperation would affect her ability to return. I had tried to text her, but it seemed that her phone number was no longer valid. Becky told Dianne that Michell had a new phone number and planned to return two days from now on Wednesday.
Brenda stopped by at 9:20 A.M. for Dad’s physical therapy session and gave him a good workout. When I told her that our skilled nursing services had ended and that we were ending our aide service in less than two weeks, she was very concerned. The aides had been a godsend. I could not have kept working, and I’m not sure that Dad would have survived without their assistance. However, although Dad had not fully recovered, my parents felt that they had reached a point where they could get by without them. My mother was weary of having the extra people in the house, and they cost more than $1,000/week, and to date, they had been with us for 16 weeks. Before she left, I told Brenda that I would contact Adan to talk with him about our remaining therapy home care. She said that she would tell Adan to expect a call from me. When Brenda left, I sent a text message to Adan, asking him to call me.
Shortly after Brenda left, Mom, Dad, and I drove to the automotive repair shop to retrieve Dad’s SUV. We had left it there on Friday, and it was now ready. We returned shortly before noon. After lunch, Dad wanted to take a nap before his 2:00 P.M. swallow therapy session with Kristen.
Like many of his sessions with Kristen, she spent quite a bit of time reminding Dad about what he could eat. We also spent some time talking about sodium.
At 3:25 P.M., the four of us piled into Dad’s SUV and drove to the pulmonary clinic. I had been crossing my fingers and toes for days that this appointment would turn out well. After taking Dad’s vitals, the office staff ushered us into the exam room at 4:00 P.M. Dr. Giri and Svenja (the trach goddess of Scott & White) were pleased that the diameter of Dad’s stoma had decreased and agreed that it was time to decannulate Dad. I could barely contain my excitement. Within moments, Svenja removed the trach and showed me how to clean and dress the stoma. Before we left, she also gave me some supplies to dress the stoma until it closed. During Dad’s hospitalization and recovery, medical professionals reminded me that it takes longer for an elderly person to heal. I hoped that Svenja provided me with adequate free supplies. As we were leaving the pulmonary department, I said what I hoped would be my final goodbyes to some of the pulmonary staff that I had come to know during the past year—including Dr. Stewart, who had told us that Dad would probably never be able to eat carrots and peas. Score!
We arrived home at 5:00 P.M., just in time for a very happy happy hour. We watched the news, and an hour later Mom served us Swedish meatballs for dinner. By 7:45 P.M., we had finished playing cards and Dianne beat me at Oh Hell by one point.
After Dianne helped Dad get ready for bed, I walked Mom through the process of getting Dad hooked up to the Kangaroo pump and administering his nighttime meds. Fortunately, trach care was now a thing of the past. I would change his stoma dressing in the morning.
When I called Stan to tell him about the events of the day, he told me that Dianne had told him on Sunday that she had not ever worked for a client that had gotten better. Wow.
February 9. I woke up a little before 3:45 A.M. and woke Mom and Dad at 4:00 A.M. Mom had added the third can of Nepro only a couple of hours earlier, and about a cup remained, which meant that Dad would have to finish the remaining Nepro when he returned from dialysis. After getting dressed, he wheeled himself to the kitchen and prepared his hot water while Mom prepared his Cream of Wheat and figs. While Dad was eating, I worked with Mom to prepare Dad’s bag for dialysis and to administer his morning meds.
While Dad was in dialysis, our neighbor, Barbara, stopped by with some beautiful roses. She stayed for about an hour and got an earful from Mom and me about some bothersome things that happened to Dad during his stay in the Scott & White hospitals.
During dialysis, 1800 ml of fluid was removed, and Dad’s weight changed from 68.4 kg to 66.8 kg. After he returned home, we ate lunch and then Dad took a nap. While he slept, we connected him to the Kangaroo pump. During the two hours that he slept, he consumed the remainder of the Nepro.
After he got up, I knew that I had to change his stoma dressing. I was a little squeamish about this chore. I had this visual image of seeing the inside of his trachea. When I removed the old dressing, I was surprised at how much the stoma had closed. Although the skin on his neck had not closed, the trachea was practically healed. Svenja had told me that for a few days, when the dressing was removed, Dad would not be able to talk without covering the stoma. For all intents and purposes, the trachea had closed in 24 hours. I had no idea that the body could heal itself so fast. I’ve had paper cuts that took longer to heal.
During happy hour, we watched the news and were anxious to hear the results of the New Hampshire primary election. Mom beat the pants off everyone in Oh Hell, and by 7:45 P.M. I was helping Mom get Dad ready for bed. I don’t think that she realized how much work it was to care for Dad. Before heading up to my room, I checked my phone and learned that Trump and Sanders had placed first in the New Hampshire elections. Go figure.
After falling asleep, I was awakened by a text message. It seemed that the father of a Glassell classmate had died earlier in the evening. I had only seen photographs of David’s father, but after having worked so hard to keep my father alive, this death hit me hard.
February 10. Everyone was still sleeping when I started working, but at 5:00 A.M., I heard Dad insisting to Mom that he wanted to get up. We had moved one of the baby-monitor stations to the aide’s bedroom, so Dianne appeared a couple of minutes later to help Dad get up. Mom had already disconnected him from the Kangaroo pump. Because he got up early, at least one cup of Nepro remained in the tube-feed bag, and he would need to finish it later in the day.
Brenda arrived at 9:00 A.M. for Dad’s physical therapy session. Dad’s goal for this period was to be able to walk with a cane, and Brenda was doing her part to ensure that Dad’s balance would support that goal.
Minutes after Brenda left, Michell arrived. We said our final good-byes to Dianne. This last week with Michell would be our final week of aides. Stan had purchased some angel pins, and I gave one to Dianne as she left. Dianne’s loud non-stop talking sometimes grated on Mom’s nerves, but she was a good aide, and I had appreciated the way in which she cared for and watched out for Dad.
After lunch, Dad started giving me static about eating, saying he would not consume more food as long as he was receiving three cans of Nepro. I told him that I would not reduce the amount of Nepro by a can until he ate more. I had been monitoring his caloric intake since he started eating meals with us and he had never consumed more than 675 calories each day, which was not enough for him to maintain his weight, let alone gain weight and keep up his strength. We had both dug in our heels and I eventually left the room.
When he got on his bed for a nap after lunch, he pitched a fit when Michell hooked up the pump to his G-tube so that he could consume the remainder of the Nepro. He was starting to get on my last nerve with his constant refusals to exercise or eat. I took a break and went outside for a long walk. As I returned from my walk, I met Kristen in the driveway. It was 2:00 P.M. and time for Dad’s swallow therapy session.
When Mom and Michell got Dad up from his nap, he was still in a snitty mood and was a little rude to Kristen. Kristen had been in the house only a few minutes when we heard a knock at the door. Mom and I were thrilled to see Adan on our doorstep. Dad didn’t remember him, but Mom and I were very grateful to him for his support and all that he had done to enable us to get Dad eating again. Unfortunately, Dad’s icy demeanor didn’t thaw when he met Adan, and I was embarrassed beyond words. Kristen had told Adan about Dad’s great progress and had conspired with Adan to surprise us. While Adan was here, he mentioned that he had spoken with Dr. Randall Smith about Dad’s progress. Dr. Smith had saved Dad’s life by switching Dad’s discharge orders from hospice to home care and would always hold a special place in my heart.
Shortly after Kristin and Adan left, the doorbell rang again. Gale had arrived! We had arranged to have a dinner for both Michell and Gale. Although Gale hadn’t been our aide since Thanksgiving, she had been the perfect aide for Dad during his first week at home. She had implemented some of our home care standards and had taught me a lot. I don’t know how we would have coped without her.
Now that Gale was in the house, Dad was in a much better mood. The five of us enjoyed a nice happy hour, followed by a scrumptious meal. I had forgotten how much Gale liked playing Oh Hell, and she hollered with delight when she won. By 8:00 P.M., she had to leave to drive a couple of hours to her home. As she left, I hugged her goodbye and gave her an angel pin in the hope that she would remember us and how grateful we were for having known her.
Tomorrow was a dialysis day, so as soon as Gale left, Dad started getting ready for bed. Mom and I set up the Kangaroo pump and administered his nighttime meds.
The first part of the day was a little rocky, but I loved seeing Adan and Gale today. It felt like a day of transition, but the real transition was still a week away, when we would no longer have any aides.