Yay for grumpy! 
Grumpy means recovering.
Good luck mate we’re all with you.
Well, we’re still seeing little baby steps.
Okay, giant baby steps. 
My mother is continuing to slowly improve in the ICU, and they’re continuing to reduce the supports they have her on for both blood pressure and respiration. I don’t have a timeline for weaning her off either completely, but that’s still the direction they’re looking in, which is a huge improvement over Friday, when I was told that that they weren’t sure she’d survive the two mile trip to the hospital with the cardiac catheter laboratory.
So, things are looking better, still.
She also asked for the curtains to be opened and is sitting up, too.
Thanks again, everyone, for your kind wishes.
That sounds promising.
For anyone looking to get a little more information about what actually happened - my mother seems to have suffered from an attack of stress-induced cardiomyopathy.
You’ve probably read the frustrations we’ve been through this past year to year and a half with my father. And even though the shunt he’s had replaced for his NPH is working and letting him function, he’s still only about 70-80% back towards his norms before this summer’s event. Unfortunately that’s left him with enough mental function to be willful, but not quite enough to always use sound judgment. At this time I usually count on him doing one utterly daft thing a day. Most of the time those are harmless, just “what was he thinking, this time” sort of events. But the potential for disaster with them can be pretty high.
One of the things he’s been unreasonably stubborn about has been that he is reluctant to perform his physical therapy exercises. And remains shocked that his muscle strength hasn’t returned to his pre-illness norms. And because of all the things that tie into how well he can move about on his own, this attitude of his has been hugely frustrating for my mother and myself.
So, she’s came into Thursday with a good deal of stress.
Then she was in a minor car accident.
It was a fender-bender. She felt as fine as anyone might expect from a minor accident where even though the damage was dramatic, none of the cars involved deployed their airbags.
But with the magic of hindsight, we believe that this is when the myopathy started. The symptoms were simply masked by the expected aches and pains from a minor accident. It wasn’t until about 12 hours after the accident that things progressed to the point where the symptoms were recognized as being more than just normal aches and pains. But even then, it was several hours at the ER before her condition worsened enough that people began to realize just how drastic things might be.
She got to the ER at 2, and I had followed her over. (Having been called before she called 911, since she wanted my opinion.) Before I got in to see her she’d had an EKG and she told me that it looked “normal.” I don’t know whether that was based on her view of the graph (she’d been an RN, herself) or if that was something she’d been told. They had her on just a little supplemental oxygen, and she wasn’t in pain, and just having a little problem with her known asthma. Or so we thought.
They took an x-ray of her chest, and found some fluid in her lung, and made the decision, then, that she’d be admitted. But again, there seemed to be no particular urgency - just a desire to make sure she was clearly healthy before they let her out of their care. And, at that time I figured I could head home and get some sleep.
At 6:30 I got a call from the ER doctor saying she was being admitted to ICU. And if that wasn’t bad enough, while I was still trying to grasp the situation and asking the doctor for details he told me, ‘I have to go, they need my help with your mother.’
Between that and the OP, you can probably imagine how my Friday was.
But, like NinetyWt observed - she’s showing a number of promising signs, now. When we go in to see her today I hope to talk a bit longer with the doctors, and get an idea of a prognosis, and what shape she might be in if she gets to come home. (Yeah, I’d probably do just as well asking a tea-leaf reader, but…)
Thoughts and wishes with you, man. Nothing is scarier than seeing your parents helpless.
Good thoughts and best wishes for you and your mom.
((hugs)))
A bit of an update.
As I said earlier the progress, now is coming in small steps. It’s coming, and today we’ve gotten a big step done, actually: the respirator is out, and my mom is breathing on her own again.
As of last night the ICU staff was willing to talk about when mom would come home, too, instead of IF. It’s not much, really, but I certainly was glad to hear it.
They’ll be trying to see if she can walk tomorrow. All signs, now, look good - just some concern about lost muscle tone. But have to take it carefully.
Things are definitely improving. Thank you all again for your kind wishes.
Oh, that’s so good to hear
Just to encourage you – my dad was confined 100 percent to bed for 7 months after his accident, and he can now walk again despite a pretty much complete loss of muscle tone during that time. Your mom can do it too.
Late to the game, but sending warm thoughts your way and hope there is a continued improvement!
Well, as of last night, my mom is out of ICU.
She’s still having problems with fluid in her lungs, but they’re controlling that with medication, now. She’s still fairly weak, and tires easily. But she does want a book brought in.
Right now, I can’t wait til she asks for some mufti.
The Lasix is a bit of a step back, but she’s out of ICU, and able to walk (if with assistance) so even if it was two steps forward and one step back - that’s still progress.
Of course, now, we’re starting to get to the realm of trying to figure out what can be done at home to change things so that my mom will be under less stress when she gets home. Since I’d place about 50-60% of the stress she’s been under firmly at my father’s feet, between his personality and his condition, the ideal way to begin would be by getting my father to make some changes.
Alas, that’s about as likely as trying to talk a glacier into changing its route.
If my mother ends up being able to take stairs when she gets out of the hospital, the solution will be to have her sleep in the guest room. Which will mean she’ll be mostly losing her stitching room. Not an ideal situation. But having her keep sharing a bed and bedroom with my father is just not possible. Prior to last Thursday I don’t think she’d gotten a full night’s sleep for several days - maybe as long as a week.
I don’t want to put my father into any kind of facility, not while we’re still able to care for him physically. But if the stresses involved are pushing his caretakers into ill health, it may end up being the only choice.
It’s still too early to make any decisions. We still don’t have a firm prognosis for my mother’s release, let alone whether she’ll be transitioning to a rehab center, or what accommodations may be needed at home.
Bah, what I have is good news. She is doing better. Stick with that.
Do you want to make God laugh? Make plans.
I’d planned, very carefully, for the past four or five days, that if everything were settled I could take this afternoon and evening off for some downtime for myself.
It did not go well for me.
My father found several new ways to scare and upset me.
Then my mother called to say she was being discharged from the hospital, to a rehab facility. Which is great news. Don’t get me wrong.
But that killed my plans for time off until about 8 tonight. I had to meet her at the new facility. I had to bring her things from home for the rehab center, mainly her clothes and stuff. Again, which I don’t begrudge her.
It’s just today was supposed to be the day that everyone stayed still and safe.
sigh
Well, she’s happier where she is. This last day in the hospital she’d been transferred from the acute care unit to a chronic care unit. In this case, a locked ward with a significant number of dementia cases. No one is faulting the hospital for that, but it’s not the most positive of environments, even in the best of circumstances. And the level of care is a bit more ‘relaxed’ than in the other wards my mother had been in.
OTOH, it’s starting to really look likely that my father will have to be transferred to some kind of assisted living facility. Not so much for his health, though that’s part of it, but because caring for him is having such deleterious effects on my health, now, and already on my mother’s health.
I have recently started some treatment for high blood pressure. And I had a couple of follow-up appointments for myself today. Even after having had an hour between my appointment and when I left the house so I wouldn’t start screaming at my father, my blood pressure was still 188/116*. To make those numbers even worse: I’m taking 10 mg of Lisinopril and 12.5 mg of hydrochlrothiazide. Not the highest dose of either medication available - but not precisely baby doses, either.
I don’t want to put Dad into a facility. I’m not sure that there’s any other choice at the moment.
*After another half hour of calming my blood pressure was a more acceptable 150/100. So those numbers are more likely part of a spike. I think it’s fair to call them part of the down swing part of the spike, though.
Those doses are mere starters----I’m on 40 and 25, respectivly, and a few other things too.
Who needs breakfast, I get pills…
This would be a bad time to start quoting the song In the Year 2525, wouldn’t it?