Thursday morning I woke up at 5 and I kept getting the strongest feeling to get to the hospital. I got showered, dressed, scraped off the car again, then toddled with my walker as fast as I could to see why that feeling was so strong, and my mom was uncontrollable. She was yelling and had not slept in the many nights she had been there, had not been given any heart medicine or insulin, (those are necessary life- sustaining drugs!) or any painkiller except those I brought in my purse to keep her comfortable because the one Dr. that admitted her doesn't think anyone should be on morphine for ANY reason. Not even cancer. If your heart stops because of the severity of pain, so be it. If you lay there crying, demented in pain for months, so be it. I would like to see how he feels at the end of his life if he has a very painful cancer or painful diseases that Mom and I deal with. He would soon be thanking God for creating such a plant that we make strong painkillers out of. The night before, I had told that Dr. that her going through withdrawal would make her even MORE delirious, and make her heart problems worse, so she would need the heart medicine and diabetes medicine even more! If he was going to take her off the morphine, he'd better give her the other meds just to keep her alive! Such an idiot. We are going to have to report him. He would have killed mom if I had not shown up within an hour or 2. Her blood pressure was so high the nurses were scared. All this is due to Mom's admitting Dr. who is from Scotland, and told me that people in his country consider his word to be the word of God and they would take poison or pills they were allergic to if he told them to. I told him "That wouldn't be very wise. People in this country don't have the opportunity to reach a Dr. each time we need one, so we HAVE to learn to know our bodies and take care of ourselves as much as possible, and to stop harmful medicines if we have reactions."
When Mom's Dr. came in, I asked why she had not received one pill since she was admitted. His jaw dropped open and he left and slammed Mom's door and walked away. I followed him and said "Dr., it was a very innocent question." He said "If you don't like the way I do things, take her out of here!" I said "How? She is too weak to walk. I can't carry her!" He said "that's YOUR problem." So I went to speak to the head nurse on the floor, and calmly pointed out that Mom had not received one pill or an IV or any treatment since she got there, she had changed rooms 3 times and her phone and TV did not change rooms with her. The head nurse opened her records, and saw that the medicines that she is on WAS written down, and no, she didn't get ANYTHING. I asked how do we go about getting another Dr. He said that it's a complicated process, but thank goodness the admitting Dr. had asked an internist to come check on her.
I waited for the internist to show up, and explained the problem, and he was so angry with that Dr. He put an IV in mom right away, and got her correct medicines going, got her special diet in place, things were great. He said he hated morphine too, but he knows you can't cut a person off cold turkey after 20 years when they are so sick in the first place.
When I was in too much pain to stay any longer, I figured I'd better get home before I got to the point that I would not be able to move. As soon as I left, they totally ignored mom again! No night meds, no insulin, heart medicine, thank goodness I had given her the pain medicine myself, and her colostomy bag had exploded 3 times, so I changed her and the bed and washed her 3 times. I couldn't get anyone to help. One nurse brought a plastic bag to put the sheets, gowns in etc. and they threw them all in the trash! I guess they are rich enough to throw away 3 sets of sheets, 3 bedspreads, 3 blankets, 3 gowns, 8 towels and 8 washcloths. It looked as if Mom's stoma (colostomy) had stopped exploding for the night, so I thought she could rest for the night. After I left, it exploded a couple more times, and NOT ONE NURSE WOULD HELP HER! She had to sit in the bowel movement until it was dried, until a visitor came to see her roommate and got her some towels and washcloths and sheets from the hallway for mom. I should have stayed all night. I should have stayed all 4 days, but then I would be unable to move, and I would be neglected as badly as mom.
This morning, the internist found that she was no longer disoriented, and her stoma had cleared itself of the blockage, so he discharged her. Mom waited and waited for her meds, for her breakfast, for someone to pull out her catheter and IV. NO ONE CAME! A nurse said "You need to get out of your room NOW, we need the bed!" She said "Well how? I have a catheter and IV in me." The nurse walked away. My brother showed up to pick her up, and the nurse said "Your son is here, you need to clear this room!" Mom said "Do you expect my son to take out the catheter and IV or what?" (My brother has such anxiety attacks in hospitals anyway, there's no way he could do something like that. I'm an LPN. I could have done it but I am passing out today so I can't get to the hospital.) So anyway, she pulled out the catheter herself, crying, started to get dressed, then a nurse came in and asked why mom was crying. Mom said she had just pulled out her catheter. The nurse said "WHAT? You have probably just torn part of your bladder! What were you thinking?" Mom said "You kept telling me I have to clear this room and no one came in to take out the catheter or IV and I can't get dressed unless they are out, and when you started yelling at me, I figured I wasn't going to get any help, so I took it out myself!" The nurse didn't say anything more, but went to get another nurse. My brother started packing mom's things, and Mom pulled her own IV because she has seen me pull it for her so many times. The other nurse came in and said "No you probably didn't tear your bladder. There is a balloon on the end of the catheter to keep it inside you but you probably pulled hard enough to break the balloon."
It seems like as long as there is a witness/advocate there, they are SO KIND! But the moment the patient is alone, they are insulted, neglected, DANGEROUSLY so! The roommate said the same thing was happening to her. When her husband was there, the nurses were very good to her. When her husband leaves, even when her heart monitor starts beeping, she is left alone! I am so sure that Dad died from lack of care, and that's probably the way mom and I will go when it's our time too. I told mom that if she ever has to be admitted again, I am going to BEG for home care, because Mom and I can do better care at home than she received, and if I don't have to walk that 2+ miles a day to get to the hospital and around the hospital and home again, I could use that strength to care for mom.
Even now, I had to almost carry mom up the stairs, and I made her bed, brought her special liquid diet into her room, tried to make her comfortable, listened to her story because she was so upset, and I was half way passing out the whole time, and then I said "Mom, I know how weak you are. PLEEEEEZE call my cell phone if you need a drink or need to get to the bathroom or need to eat anything or want anything, PLEASE call me! I am here for you! Even if I'm passing out...when I come to (wake up)...I will come upstairs and get what you need." She is calling home health care now to see if she can increase her level of care, but I doubt if they will increase her level of care because we tried for 11 years to get home health care in here to give her 1 bath a week! Now that our Dr. is out of the country and the Dr. that admitted her was so nasty, we don't have a Dr. to authorize a higher level of care. The internist that saw mom can not do it, he has to give authority to the admitting Dr.
She said we may have to go back to the E.R. to see a Dr. there to get a referral for higher level of care. I'm trying to think of someone who can go with her. I can't, I would be on the bed beside her, and my brother can't, he'd be having an anxiety attack, so would be no help whatsoever.
In my first near death experience, I was told that near the end of my life, doctors would be completely useless, and that the only care that would help is natural treatment and faith healing. I think we are there.
I'm trying to make sense of this never-ending pattern of being denied help! The whole family, not just me gets denied help, and its part of the human brain to try to find a pattern or a reason to make sense of it. This is probably not true, but it's the latest theory of maybe why God is making us do this all alone.
We are so very kind and friendly, so I know it's not because of how we treat others. Since Mom and Dad helped develop this church and worked almost full time in this church for 50 years, we STILL call members and ask how they are and let them know we care, etc. but we never get a phone call or visit in return except for 2 ladies who are "assigned" to check on us once a month for 15 mantes or so, and of course we tell them "nothing", when they ask "What can we do?", because they would not do it if we asked them to do something anyway. They don't care enough about us. I swear the church thinks we have leprosy or AIDS or something!
I called our clergy while Mom was in the hospital...and we have not had a return phone call or a visit and he did not delegate anyone else to call to see how we are or anything....so if I did not have the wonderful personal relationship with God that I do, and if I was one that thought that "clergy is the link between me and God", then I would really believe that even God had left us alone....but since I can feel the Lord's guidance and comfort, I KNOW God has not left us alone...people have left us alone...and it has happened in such a severe degree that it is too much to be coincidence. It almost feels as if we will pass away because of lack of help from any other human being, and then when judgment day comes, our family will be used as an example of how our culture has become so isolated and selfish in the last days. People do not even look next door anymore to see if there is someone dying that could use a meal or have their walks shoveled or even have someone to talk to.
I think bad things happen to many good people because God gave us free agency, and he is letting people have as much rope as they want, so He can see just how far they will go, then on judgment day, they will hang themselves with that rope. I think one of the tortures of Hell is that you learn what you did to other people and will feel their pain for eternity. You will know that there was only one chance on earth, this "school" that we are in for a limited time, to learn and to teach others, and if you feel the pain that you have caused others (purposely, not unintentionally), that would be torment for sure.
Gotta go. SO wiped out. Passing out again.