I'm wearing a bright orange wrist band declaring me a "Care Partner."
Although I have been thinking about fitness issues, I know I haven't written much lately. Between holiday concerts, new clients, a visit home for the holidays, I've found it hard to sit and concentrate on writing. Plus, I've just taken on a new role.
I'm a caregiver. With all my time spent in hospitals over the years, I've never been on this side. I've never been one of the haggard, worried, but healthy people haunting the hallways. After two days in the same clothes, with no shower or toothbrush, and no sleep, I am one of those people. I am part of the tribe.
My mom just had hip replacement surgery. She had the first hip done last summer. This one was done right after Christmas. The whole family was home for Christmas, so I had plenty of company for the first few days. Now it's just my father and me.
Surgery went very well. Recovery was going quite well. She was released on the second day after surgery - yesterday. All went smoothly for a few hours. Then, not so much.
Mom started coughing and wheezing. Back to the ER: X-rays, EKG, other tests, readmitted at 2am. She was understandably anxious, so Dad and I spent the night with her. We're still here. I'm sure all will be resolved well, but things don't always go as planned.
I have been lucky to have had family and friends help me out during all of my medical trials; I am happy to return the favor. But this has been a very interesting experience for me to be on this side of medicine.
In the last few days I have felt dizzying flashbacks: like the nausea I still feel at the smell of alcohol preps, more than a decade after chemo; or the alarm - a mix of fear and pain - I felt watching my mother struggle to get out of bed the first time, remembering my own difficult steps after my many surgeries. I have also had curious moments of realization that I have an unusually broad experience with medicines and tests. I found it odd that my mother has never had a scan with contrast, and therefore doesn't know if she has a reaction to iodine. Scans with contrast have become almost commonplace for me over the years. Many of the drugs and their side effects seem routine to me - well of course she's groggy after Ativan!
From my patient days, though, I know how important it is to have good caregivers, and not just good doctors and nurses. Having family or friends around is vital for more than just company. It's difficult to keep track of all the details of one's care when you're in pain. Even worse when you're in pain and on pain medication.
I've always said it's equally difficult to be the patient or the family/friend. It's just different. I've been the patient many times. Now I'm the caregiver - I have the orange wristband to prove it. I've looked at medicine - the amazing things that can be done, as well as the mess that our healthcare system can be - from both sides now.
I think I'd like to stay away from hospitals for a while - from either side.
Julie
Although I have been thinking about fitness issues, I know I haven't written much lately. Between holiday concerts, new clients, a visit home for the holidays, I've found it hard to sit and concentrate on writing. Plus, I've just taken on a new role.
I'm a caregiver. With all my time spent in hospitals over the years, I've never been on this side. I've never been one of the haggard, worried, but healthy people haunting the hallways. After two days in the same clothes, with no shower or toothbrush, and no sleep, I am one of those people. I am part of the tribe.
My mom just had hip replacement surgery. She had the first hip done last summer. This one was done right after Christmas. The whole family was home for Christmas, so I had plenty of company for the first few days. Now it's just my father and me.
Surgery went very well. Recovery was going quite well. She was released on the second day after surgery - yesterday. All went smoothly for a few hours. Then, not so much.
Mom started coughing and wheezing. Back to the ER: X-rays, EKG, other tests, readmitted at 2am. She was understandably anxious, so Dad and I spent the night with her. We're still here. I'm sure all will be resolved well, but things don't always go as planned.
I have been lucky to have had family and friends help me out during all of my medical trials; I am happy to return the favor. But this has been a very interesting experience for me to be on this side of medicine.
In the last few days I have felt dizzying flashbacks: like the nausea I still feel at the smell of alcohol preps, more than a decade after chemo; or the alarm - a mix of fear and pain - I felt watching my mother struggle to get out of bed the first time, remembering my own difficult steps after my many surgeries. I have also had curious moments of realization that I have an unusually broad experience with medicines and tests. I found it odd that my mother has never had a scan with contrast, and therefore doesn't know if she has a reaction to iodine. Scans with contrast have become almost commonplace for me over the years. Many of the drugs and their side effects seem routine to me - well of course she's groggy after Ativan!
From my patient days, though, I know how important it is to have good caregivers, and not just good doctors and nurses. Having family or friends around is vital for more than just company. It's difficult to keep track of all the details of one's care when you're in pain. Even worse when you're in pain and on pain medication.
I've always said it's equally difficult to be the patient or the family/friend. It's just different. I've been the patient many times. Now I'm the caregiver - I have the orange wristband to prove it. I've looked at medicine - the amazing things that can be done, as well as the mess that our healthcare system can be - from both sides now.
I think I'd like to stay away from hospitals for a while - from either side.
Julie
2 comments:
Best of luck for your mom and hope she gets sorted. Not sure what the orange wristband refers to - seems you could mean it literally: an American thing? Good luck.
Thanks, Gillian. She's doing much better now. The orange wristband is a thing that this hospital does to designate primary care givers, rather than have the whole family trying to answer health questions or do everything.
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