Day 33 - You Come Home!

Mom, as hard as this is to believe, just 3 days after you were throwing up blood at the hospital, you were coming home. On Day 31, I remember, I spent all day at the hospital with you from 8 AM to 5 PM. The next day I went out and bought supplies for the hospital bed that was delivered to your room. (Your bed was moved to the dining room long before this. That's where Paul had been sleeping). One of the things I got was one of those memory foam pads because the mattress on that hospital bed was so stiff. I was so proud of myself that I had found the right size. I also got diapers and something called an "incontinence pad." This pad served a dual purpose and was very important: It not only caught any urine that might seep out of your diaper, but it also was what we would be able to hold onto in order to slide you up or down the bed. Adjusting you in all these various hospital beds was not easy. It took two people, and we would first have to lie you flat, which was a position you never liked, and usually the abrupt slide upwards was painful to you, but it was something that had to be done regularly because gravity tended to slide you downwards whenever we sat you up in bed so that you could drink water, etc.
  It was Day 33 that the ambulance brought you home. I remember the paramedics -- a man and a woman-- were very gentle with you, and very patient. I first wanted you to sit in your wheel chair. This however was too painful for you, so they put you back on the stretcher and then into your room and onto the hospital bed. We all had mixed emotions. This was one month and one day since your stroke. We were all anxious to see your spirits improve, because we felt that if you were home, you would heal faster. And we all wanted you to see Nikki, the cat that you adored so much, and the cat that adored you. Nikki used to spend hours in your lap every day when you were home during the day in your recliner watching politics on TV. But the reason we had mixed emotions is we didn't know if you were truly ready to be home, and we didn't know if we had the capability to take care of you. We wanted you home, but we also wanted what was best for you. As soon as Mary Jo got home from work, she changed your diaper. I know that wasn't easy for either one of you. It took Mary Jo about twice as long to do this as the professionals in the nursing home. Maybe three times as long. To make matters worse, you had already leaked all over the new foam memory pad that was under the sheets. I had failed to get a plastic liner for the bed, so it was my mistake. We had to remove the foam and take it outside where Paul rinsed it with the hose and set it across a couple lawn chairs to dry. It never did dry because it actually started to rain a little. I went back to the medical supply store and got another incontinence pad, because Mary Jo had to put the other one in the washing machine.
  Paul stayed up with you that night. He would sleep on your recliner, he said. He closed the door to your room because you were moaning and groaning all night. There was nothing we could do to console you. This was not the happy return home than any of us had envisioned! It must have been 2:00 when I went to check on you, and I could not believe that Paul was no where in sight. It turns out that he just couldn't endure your constant moaning, and you were embarrassing him by ripping off your clothes. I learned many days later that this was one thing that dying patients do: rip at their own clothes. I gave you some water to drink, and I went back to my bed. None of us really slept much that night. I don't think I slept more than an hour, and I don't think Mary Jo slept more than two.
  On Day 34 Vivian and Deloris came to be with you. After Deloris left around 11:00 AM, and it was just me and Vivian with you. It was around 2:00 PM that you started to throw up more blood! Again I put the head of your bed up so that you would not choke on your own blood, and I told Vivian to call 911. It was awful. When the paramedics came and removed your blankets, we could see that blood was also coming out of your diaper, so you were losing blood from both ends, this time. Obviously the patch job they did inside your stomach on Day 30, was not a very good job. The ambulance took you to Memorial Hermann Sugarland this time. The question on my mind: How much more of this trauma could you survive?
  And sadly, your cute and beloved cat, Nikki, was too afraid to step foot near your room, so you never had a chance to even catch a glimpse of him during your short 22 hour "recovery" at home.