Warning.. this is a rant as I am fearing another ER visit coming up with my Dad who now has a respiratory infection at the memory care. As their caregiver.. ER visits are one of the worst aspects and the most dreaded. (especially now in flu season) Since my parents moved closer to me (4 years ago), I have had numerous horrific, exhausting ER experiences. My dad has been in the ER at an average of 2 times a year in the last 3 years.. all for unrelated issues... for breaking his knee cap, for a kidney infection, for pneumonia , for broken ribs, for an infected gall bladder ... My mom has been in the ER twice since they moved 4 years ago. Once for a TIA and once for a broken wrist. That's at least 8 ER visits with them. The ones with my mom I had to bring my Dad along as I didn't have caregivers at the time. The ones with my dad... I had to bring my mom. They both require 24/7 care while in the ER or hospital. Each visit I get numerous questions from them (over and over and over), long wait which usually end in them admitting them. With my dad.. he will not use the urinal they provide.. so each visit ultimately ends with him having some kind of bathroom accident. I usually see things that no daughter should see. Each visit I get texts from relatives...who want to care from afar... all with concerns for the parent (never me) ... all who want to be "kept informed" ... which means they want to know medical details about my dad. Sometimes I include non medical details like when he pulls out his IV or when he has accidents in the ER... when no one is around (except me)... just for their enjoyment. My parents have each recovered from each ER visit... but each time it takes something out of me... it puts me in such high stress and really highlights what it is like to be alone with someone with dementia. Ok rant over. I pray things turn around this time ...at least he has a D.r at the memory care who has already prescribed antibiotics... but he did have pneumonia just last year.. Every time I hear of any kind of illness with them I start getting high anxiety of my most feared dementia experience.
The reason they don't just give clot busters every time is that if you go gung-ho and merrily whack them in to a frail elderly patient who has just lodged a large clot in her brain and *damaged* it, you risk causing a catastrophic bleed which will be All Your Fault. It's a very fine balance they're trying to strike - if it were that simple a decision, given how cheap the drugs are, they'd give us all our own sets for use in emergency, like epi-pens.
I still wish I'd followed my first instinct and got some soluble aspirin down my mum before the ambulance arrived, though. Woulda coulda shoulda. Worse? Worse? How could it get any worse?
I love the medic alert tales. Maybe we should have MEDICALERT! tattooed on our foreheads and see if they still manage to miss them.
Barb I wish you'd flicked that triage nurse on the nose to wake her up and make her remember. My ex's blood running cold moment happened when he got a big strong policeman complaining of backache. Took the history. Did the vitals. Examined his back. NAD. Painkillers go home come back if it gets worse..? His guardian angel made him tell the nice burly policeman to roll over so he could just check his abdomen - and his hand practically bounced off it, HUGE triple A just about to say Goodnight Vienna.
Great job doc.
So, DH had open heart surgery, gets aorta and aortic valve replaced. On blood thinners for life. Wears a Medic Alert bracelet.
(please note; I don't do ERs if not by ambulance; long experience has taught me that if you come in on your own steam, they disbelieve EVERYTHING you tell them your doctor just wrote down for you). We walked into the ER of a major NYC hospital with a script that said "aortic aneurysm ; please call Cardio Thoracic Surg" and the triage nurse was like "he looks fine to me and his EKG is normal".
I said some REALLY bad words that night.
Fast forward about a year....
So, DH becomes unresponsive while in the bathroom and I say to him "if you don't wake up and GET UP I'm gonna call 911". He grunts. I realize we have an ACTUAL emergency on our hands.
I call 911. We live, I kid you not, half a block from a hospital. Not a trauma center, but a hospital. The EMTs come, they extricate Mike from the "throne", put him on a gurney and they say to me, " you could walk there quicker than we can transport".
"But if we come in with you lovely gents, they will actually pay attention to him, won't they?".
So we get to the ER and they start working on him, trying to get him more responsive. The nurse is asking me rapid fire questions and I'm giving her chapter and verse, replaced aortic valve with a St. Jude, aorta replaced with a dacron one, the name of his CT surgeon blood type, etc. The nurse looks down at my out of it husband and says " "You know Mr. S, with all these problems, you REALLY should be wearing a Medic Alert bracelet".
And whatever fog Mike was in, he raised his right wrist high, for all to see his shiny stainless steel bracelet. The one that has his blood type, blood thinner and St. Jude valve number on it.
And the nurse said "oh".
So, now he has one that has a RED band.
We got home, and I thought that was the end of it until she announced that she had left one of her good black leather gloves in the ER, and I would have to go back for it. I asked if she had checked her purse and her pockets, and she declared that she had, and it wasn't there, and insisted that I would have to go back to the ER for it. I could tell from her expression that she was getting some enjoyment out of this. So I checked a coat pocket, and indeed it was there. Game over! She was disappointed that I found it.Total waste of everyone's time and energy just for her entertainment. Merry Christmas!
SMH still.
I did get a bunch of tests I needed anyhow, and it wasn't my appendix, but the takeaway for me was coming in through urgent care. And since UC couldn't do anything for me, they didn't charge me--that's standard.
(The dizziness and blurred vision disappeared.)
I finally admitted to my own eye doctor that I was having double vision problems. Mainly in one eye that felt like it was drifting. She knew exactly what was going on. She placed the phoropter in front of my eyes and showed me a series of lens choices, of which now contained a prism. Oh my gosh, what a difference.
My lazy left eye was apparently inherited. While going through the family tree and finding photos, I saw where my Great-great-grandfather on my Dad's side had a slight lazy eye. Ah ha.
I have just about decided that I'm not accompanying her into the ER anymore for one of her "dizzy spells." She told me she's not going to the ER anymore, so we'll see if she sticks to that. The last ER visit was Memorial Day weekend. At that time, she refused to allow an MRI, so they couldn't really tell anything (and this time it was more serious; she had blurry vision and the room kept "tilting" so I really did wonder if it was some kind of stroke).
I don't want to sit with her for hours, taking her on multiple bathroom visits that take forever and having to get a urine sample. Remember, she told me she didn't want me back in the examining room at doctor visits anymore, because they talk to me and not her. And all the while, asking multiple questions and making comments, and me having to repeat my responses or answers to questions multiple times.
And then there's the flu epidemic. I don't want to sit in an ER for hours with all the sick people. I don't want to get the flu. (And if she gets the flu, I'm not taking care of her.)
So I'm pondering if she thinks she needs an ER visit, that I'll say to call the ambulance (we have a free volunteer rescue squad here) to take her to the ER, and then have the ER call me when she's ready to be picked up.
I know I seem callous, but it's so hard to be chirpy during these marathon ER visits, often coming home after midnight, because she always has the emergency after even the Urgent Cares have closed. I resent having to do this.
My mom was hard of hearing and had a mastectomy on the right side- labs were not to be drawn on the right side & I requested a piece of paper to note both above her head of bed. I came in early one morning to see the phlebotomist drawing labs from her right arm. I hit the roof. I don’t think the girl read the sign nor understood why labs were not to drawn on the right side.
This was years ago this I don’t know if this no lab policy persists.
How sad is it that a patient/parent must have an advocate these days. An advocate that is present most of the time just to watch over them.
My mom was hard of hearing and had a mastectomy on the right side- labs were not to be drawn on the right side & I requested a piece of paper to note both above her head of bed. I came in early one morning to see the phlebotomist drawing labs from her right arm. I hit the roof. I don’t think the girl read the sign nor understood why labs were not to drawn on the right side.
This was years ago this I don’t know if this no lab policy persists.
How sad is it that a patient/parent must have an advocate these days. An advocate that is present most of the time just to watch over them.
Or depending on the ailment, to drive the parent to the neighborhood Urgent Care. The wait in the waiting room has less commotion, and a more cozy feel. Urgent Care will take care of everything even broken bones, UTI's, pneumonia, etc.
Oh, yes, every time one parent had to go to Urgent Care, I had to bundle up the other one to go, too. And that in itself can be exhausting getting both ready. Looking for misplaced canes, eye glasses, Dad looking for his wallet, then someone needs to use the bathroom, then Dad trying to decide which baseball cap to wear, then Mom saying "are you wearing THAT one?". And making sure whomever is the "patient" that they have their Medicare card, their secondary card, plus old driver's license for photo ID.
I do remember one ER visit where Dad had a fall, and later into the exam the nurse was wondering if Dad had a head injury. The reason for that was my Dad said that we [he and I] have a long drive home as we live in Iowa.... ah, we live in Virginia just 15 minutes from the hospital. I didn't correct Dad. The nurse looked at me, I looked at my watch and said, "well it is 4pm, Dad thinks he lives in Iowa"... it took her a few seconds then she understood.
I really believe that more medical staff need to understand the inner workings of dementia and alzheimer's. But i did quickly learn as my Dad was being checked in to mention that Dad had sundowners. And for my Mom, that she could no longer hear everything or see everything, so she would come across as appearing to have memory issues [which she didn't at that time]. Imagine if they both went in on their own !!
That's why I wanted to avoid any further ER visits for my LO who is late stage dementia. After discussion with doctor, apparently, the only way is Hospice. But, he doesn't think she's there yet. She had downward turn, then seemed better. Last visit they couldn't get a vein, many sticks, then catheter to get urine sample, she's scared, in pain, crying......this just isn't right to me. Anyway, she recovered, but, it could happen again. I wish there were options.
I have two friends who are ER nurses. I know how hard they work and that it is a stressful job. I am not criticizing all ER workers. And they do amazing life-saving work.
But I certainly think our care for persons with dementia and the elderly in general could use a systematic overhaul!
Especially for me, it’s the waiting. It’s as if time passes in dog years - every one minute feels like 60.
Then add in the claustrophobia. You get put - after endless hours - into a tiny curtained cubicle where you spend more endless waiting.
And while I have to reasonably believe it’s not the case - but it seems that every time you peek out your curtain - just to reassure yourself they haven’t forgot about you - all the doctors and nurses are standing around in that center island shooting the breeze.
I actually believe that they go out of their way to make it as miserable as possible to discourage people from making frivolous visits.
I use to say I’d have to be dying to ever again - after many, many visits with both parents and Rainman - go to the ER.
A week before Christmas I got very ill. Hubby wanted to call an ambulance- I refused saying there was no way I was going to the ER! After about 18 hours of being really ill, I finally agreed to let hubby take me in. Guess what? They told me I would have died if I had waited a few more hours - and they scolded me.
I mean, what’s wrong with this picture? I gotta believe there are better ways to run an ER. But what do I know?