What a Difference the Right Equipment Makes!!

This morning was my first chance to take care of Daddy from a hospital bed that worked properly. It made quite a difference, although I still had problems getting him to follow my directions. I was able to change him out of the night Depends, clean him up, and get fresh ones on, put on socks, pants part way, and shoes, before I ever let the bed down for him to sit up. That is a BIG help. He rolled away from me, following my directions perfectly, but when it came time to roll toward me, he kept trying to climb over the rail!! DH heard me struggling to get his legs back in, and came and helped me get him on his side, so I could finish the Depends. Next time, I'll put his trousers on around his ankles first, so it will kind of "hog tie" him. LOL

Having the right equipment does make all the difference in the world when care giving. I've been very concerned about Ruth and Mick, after seeing the terrible bruises he gets from a wheelchair that doesn't fit his needs properly. I wrote The Voltage Gate and A Hearty Life, thinking that they might have some scientist friends who could help her adapt the wheelchair better. If you know anyone who might be able to help her, I sure would appreciate you sending them the link to her post.

Anyway, we continue to take one day at a time, even one hour at a time, with Daddy, just trying to keep him as comfortable and as mobile as we possibly can.

Hallucinations

Daddy has been hallucinating for the last several days off and on. At times he doesn't realize he is at home, and starts wanting to know when we're going home. Although he is blind, I've noticed him looking around at things with this wide eyed expression on his face. He's obviously seeing things that aren't there. And, he's talking about them, too! Normally, Daddy is a very quiet person, but he's been chatting away about these children playing in the living room and the trucks in the bedroom. No amount of reassuring him that it's not real will convince him of it. Up until yesterday, the hallucinations seemed harmless enough, but were a definite sign that something had made a down turn.

Yesterday morning was the worst I've had yet with Daddy. Thank goodness my DH got to the house just about the time I was going to get him up. I found him lying astraddle of the bed, with legs partway off, having made an unsuccessful attempt to get himself out of bed. His bottom was much too close to the edge of the mattress to have him sit up, so we had to try to maneuver him back in the bed. All the while, he's loudly protesting that the trucks are coming into the bedroom, and he's struggling against us, trying to get up. We finally managed to get him seated at the foot of the mattress with enough spare room to be reasonably safe.

The question was, now that we had him there, how were we going to get him up, when he was exhausted. Thank goodness I've had prior experiences I could fall back on! We ended up taking the arm off the wheelchair and making a difficult sideways transfer of about 12 inches!! He's just a dead weight and doesn't help at all. By the time we got him in the chair, I was already worn out. Thank goodness I had taken my Zelepar earlier, before he got up!!

By the hardest, we managed to get him partially dressed, but there was no way to pull up his pants or change him out of his night Depends into fresh ones. With one more gigantic effort, we managed to lift him up enough to get the wet Depends off and a dry one under him, partially taped up on the sides. That was just going to have to do for then. DH rolled him into the kitchen, with his trousers down at his ankles, and I covered him up the best I could.

His kitchen table is too low to let the arms of the wheelchair go under it, so he tried to eat breakfast farther away from the table than he's used to. He was still hallucinating and talking about the hole in his bedroom wall where the trucks had come through. He ate very little, but he did let me feed him a few bites. Luckily, we have the Rhoho cushion that Mama had after she broke her hip. Sitting on that is like sitting on air, and it's designed to prevent pressure sores. So we stood him up one last time for the day, and managed to get it under him. We ended up leaving him in the wheelchair all day, for safety's sake.

DH stayed longer than usual last night, so he could help me get Daddy to bed. It was not easy, but it was nowhere near as bad as getting him out had been.

Frances came today, and thank goodness Daddy was lucid this morning! Since I knew what to expect today, she and I changed the Depends and got him partially dressed before we ever let him get up. That made things a lot simpler. We stuck around and helped with him until she had him ready for breakfast. Then we got out of there for our Date Day. We both really needed to be away from all that nervous tension for awhile.

He's still really weak tonight, but he's beginning to understand a little of what is expected of him when he needs to make a transfer. That helps a lot.

So I write this tonight, not knowing who I will deal with tomorrow - my Daddy, or the fellow with all the trucks and children. I'll find out in the morning, won't I?

Muddling Through a Rough Day

Well, it was good while it lasted, but the Ambien didn't keep me asleep last night or the night before. I had a particularly rough day with Daddy yesterday, too, so the sleep would have been helpful. Daddy was way over in the middle of his Queen sized bed and couldn't seem to get up yesterday. I tried helping him get into position to sit up, and even pulled on him some, but he sat up several times and fell back over each time. I called DH to come up and help early, which he did. By the time he arrived, I'd finally gotten him to sit on the side of the bed, and I'd managed to change him out of his wet night things. But I sure wasn't going to try to help him walk up the hall to the living room, not as worn out as I already was, and as weak as he was.

We worked together to finish getting him dressed and get breakfast on the table, and afterwards we took him to the toilet, because he hadn't had a bowel movement in several days. I gave him a Dulcolax the night before and prune juice for breakfast, so it was time to expect results. Nature finally took care of things, but it seemed to wear him out, as he slept in his chair almost all morning.

Without going into any details, I had quite a cleaning to do in the bathroom, and it set off the nausea, just as it has ever since I've been on the PD meds. I tried all day long to relax, take some gas pills and antacids, but nothing would settle my stomach. It really didn't stop hurting and cramping on me until about bedtime. I blamed a lot of it on tasting the pork and beans at lunch, but my tummy was already tender before that.

Let's face it. Care giving involves dealing with some less than pleasant bodily functions. We dealt with them when our children were babies, and we deal with them again when our parent's bodies return to the state of babies. There are times in life when such tasks are easier to deal with than others, I guess, because this is certainly not one of my better times. DH isn't very good in this particular department, either, although he's improving out of necessity, God love him. I took care of all this sort of thing with my mother and his Dad, but now he's having to help, and he's doing his very best to survive it. He's from the generation that didn't even change diapers, either, so he doesn't even have that experience to fall back on. Under the circumstances, he's doing fantastic. I can't brag on him enough.

I can't help but wonder if it has occurred to him that he's getting the practice he will need to take care of me someday, hopefully way off in the future. It has certainly occurred to me!