The good:
1. Dan's turkey, as always, was succulent and perfect.
2. My appetizers (baked brie, along with spinach-artichoke dip) were a hit, as well as the sweet corn and rolls that I always bring. There was also a buttery, crispy, custardy sweet potato casserole made by Pam, and my sis-in-law's stuffing and MIL's mashed potatoes and gravy. . .all scrumptious.
3. The company---Aunt Ro, Pam, my sweet MIL, brother and sis-in-law and our respective kidlets.
4. Surprise sleepover- - -Liv and Nate got invited to crash tonight with their cousins, one of their very favorite things in the world to do.
5. Watching Planes, Trains and Automobiles. . .or at least the first half-hour, before an impromptu mini-turkey-coma.
6. Talking with J, my dad's private aid today about the impending move to a small apartment with 24-hour care. It feels good to have a new plan, even though it might not be perfect. The kids gave J a Thanksgiving card and made my dad a paper turkey, which I put on his bedside table.
The bad:
1. My dad's back in the skilled nursing facility but now he has pneumonia. Last night they called to let me know he had a fever and this morning when I went by he was on oxygen and antibiotics. When his Thanksgiving lunch came J and I fed him little bites until he ate around half. He chewed very slowly without opening his eyes. I was so worried that he'd get dehydrated again; I kept feeding him sips of his iced tea and water with a spoon until they were both nearly gone. Tonight when I went by again his fever had gone down but they're still concerned about his breathing so they may end up having to send him back to the hospital by morning. Sigh.
2. I'm starting to wonder if the Lexapro that I'm taking has stopped working. . .or maybe I'm just naturally a little bummed and should just let myself feel it.
3. We finally got someone out to give us an estimate on getting laminate or hardwoods in our living room and were informed that the moisture level in our crawlspace is too high for them to guarantee the work; they're afraid the wood would warp or buckle. They recommended an inspecter to find the underlying cause of the humidity. . .yikes. I really don't want to know.
The ugly:
1. Did I mention the pneumonia thing?
2. Did I mention the social worker at the nursing home? Oh,yeah. Yesterday.
The uncertain:
1. Olivia announced she wants to get her hair cut very short TOMORROW so she can donate it to Locks of Love. That was the plan initially, but I thought she was going to wait until spring. Oh, well- - -a couple months ago I would've rejoiced at this decision but she looked so darned cute with her curly ponytail last week. But, the harsh reality is I don't have the time or talent to do the curly ponytail for her everyday, and she's so active and hates spending time on her hair herself right now, so. . .I guess we'll see!
2. I'm going to check on my dad's apartment application next week; I'm going to rehearse the phone call in my head so that I don't sound desperate.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Seething
The last couple of days have not been the greatest. My dad is back in the hospital, after what seems like his one thousandth fall. It baffles me that this continues to happen, but the severe memory impairment combined with just enough strength to stand up out of one's wheelchair when one's legs are like Jello. . .well, it's a crappy combo.
Miraculously, he hasn't broken anything. I'm thankful for that.
The fact that he was slightly dehydrated upon entering the hospital, after being in a supposedly high-level care facility? So dehydrated that a low-dose of sedative to calm him down put him out cold for nearly 19 hours? Yeah. . . I'm feeling less than thankful for that.
So the hospital felt he could go home today but didn't want to release him to the skilled nursing center because they felt it wasn't safe for him after so many falls; they felt he needed to be in a secured memory unit.
You know, like the one at Sunrise. Where he also fell. A lot. Great.
So I told the nice social worker at the hosptial about my family's plan to move my dad to a retirement community apartment with round the clock private care. The problem is, the ground unit that we want isn't available until January.
I'm about to come out of my skin with impatience. I want him out of that facility YESTERDAY, but I'd like him to be in this particular complex since it's close to me, the utilities are included in the rent and he'd have lots of folks his own age for neighbors. So. . .we'll see.
In the meantime, the skilled nursing facility is willing to "let" my dad come back there IF he has round the clock private care because, as their social worker put it, "they just can't be liable for another one of your dad's falls." OH! And also, she also informed me that she knew the manager of these retirement apartments very well and she didn't think this lady would want to "take a chance on having someone who could have a serious accident on the property. In fact, Tracy, I'm not sure if our Dr. here will release him to go live there."
I'm not a yeller. I hate yelling. Frankly it makes me tired, and I feel terrible afterwards. But this poor nursing home social worker picked the wrong ticked off, over-caffeinated, sleep-deprived, only child to pick on today.
Someone, I guess it was me, but it didn't really sound like me, proceeded to tell this lady something like this: "REALLY?? You don't think YOUR Dr., who's seen him maybe ONCE will agree for him to live there?! Well, considering that my father showed up at the hospital yesterday dehydrated and with a slight concussion after being in YOUR facility, I don't think my father's REAL Dr. will have a problem with me taking him ANYWHERE ELSE BUT THERE."
Then, of course, I apologized. Like a wimpy,snivelling weasel. I told her that I knew she was just doing her job, but my family and I were just trying to do what was best and right now the best thing seems to be to take a break from facilities for awhile and just work things out between Jimmy and a couple other private caregivers.
She proceeded to babble about how she didn't meant to discourage me, she only meant to ENcourage me. . .she was suddenly Jesse Jackson. Whatever.
So now I'm at the mercy of shelling out more of my dad's once hard-earned money to pay for round the clock private care WHILE HE'S IN A SUPPOSED CAREGIVING FACILITY. Oh, and they all charge time and a-half for the holiday, naturally.
Damn. Sorry, Pastor Trevor. I hope you don't read this. Hell and damn. Also, shit. Also, crap. Also, cocksucker. That one's for the social worker. Encouraging enough for ya? Yeah.
There are so, so many things I'm thankful for, but the last 24 hours- - -well they just sucked.
I love you, Daddy. Please, please stop falling down, OK?
Now I'm going to go by the nursing home to lay eyes on my dad for a minute before going home, collapsing on the sofa and making hubs watch Moonstruck with me.
Watching Cher drink champagne by the fire after her little shopping spree always puts me in a better mood. . .
Miraculously, he hasn't broken anything. I'm thankful for that.
The fact that he was slightly dehydrated upon entering the hospital, after being in a supposedly high-level care facility? So dehydrated that a low-dose of sedative to calm him down put him out cold for nearly 19 hours? Yeah. . . I'm feeling less than thankful for that.
So the hospital felt he could go home today but didn't want to release him to the skilled nursing center because they felt it wasn't safe for him after so many falls; they felt he needed to be in a secured memory unit.
You know, like the one at Sunrise. Where he also fell. A lot. Great.
So I told the nice social worker at the hosptial about my family's plan to move my dad to a retirement community apartment with round the clock private care. The problem is, the ground unit that we want isn't available until January.
I'm about to come out of my skin with impatience. I want him out of that facility YESTERDAY, but I'd like him to be in this particular complex since it's close to me, the utilities are included in the rent and he'd have lots of folks his own age for neighbors. So. . .we'll see.
In the meantime, the skilled nursing facility is willing to "let" my dad come back there IF he has round the clock private care because, as their social worker put it, "they just can't be liable for another one of your dad's falls." OH! And also, she also informed me that she knew the manager of these retirement apartments very well and she didn't think this lady would want to "take a chance on having someone who could have a serious accident on the property. In fact, Tracy, I'm not sure if our Dr. here will release him to go live there."
I'm not a yeller. I hate yelling. Frankly it makes me tired, and I feel terrible afterwards. But this poor nursing home social worker picked the wrong ticked off, over-caffeinated, sleep-deprived, only child to pick on today.
Someone, I guess it was me, but it didn't really sound like me, proceeded to tell this lady something like this: "REALLY?? You don't think YOUR Dr., who's seen him maybe ONCE will agree for him to live there?! Well, considering that my father showed up at the hospital yesterday dehydrated and with a slight concussion after being in YOUR facility, I don't think my father's REAL Dr. will have a problem with me taking him ANYWHERE ELSE BUT THERE."
Then, of course, I apologized. Like a wimpy,snivelling weasel. I told her that I knew she was just doing her job, but my family and I were just trying to do what was best and right now the best thing seems to be to take a break from facilities for awhile and just work things out between Jimmy and a couple other private caregivers.
She proceeded to babble about how she didn't meant to discourage me, she only meant to ENcourage me. . .she was suddenly Jesse Jackson. Whatever.
So now I'm at the mercy of shelling out more of my dad's once hard-earned money to pay for round the clock private care WHILE HE'S IN A SUPPOSED CAREGIVING FACILITY. Oh, and they all charge time and a-half for the holiday, naturally.
Damn. Sorry, Pastor Trevor. I hope you don't read this. Hell and damn. Also, shit. Also, crap. Also, cocksucker. That one's for the social worker. Encouraging enough for ya? Yeah.
There are so, so many things I'm thankful for, but the last 24 hours- - -well they just sucked.
I love you, Daddy. Please, please stop falling down, OK?
Now I'm going to go by the nursing home to lay eyes on my dad for a minute before going home, collapsing on the sofa and making hubs watch Moonstruck with me.
Watching Cher drink champagne by the fire after her little shopping spree always puts me in a better mood. . .
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Ch-ch-ch-changes. . .turn and face the strange
>
So, it seems that just because my dad may not be fully aware of every event in his life, his life still evolves and changes just like anyone else's.
Due to a series of recent falls, he's now in a skilled nursing facility until he's more steady on his feet and can returned to "an assisted living environment." His Dr., the hospital social worker and I came to this decision after the most recent tumble and subsequent overnight hospital stay. My dad had stood up out of his wheelchair unassisted, which is a no-no, and took a header on the bricks of the courtyard outside Sunrise.
He's in a wheelchair part of the time these days, but he can walk pretty well either with assistance or if he's holding onto the wall railing at the nursing home. My question is, can a person with severe memory impairment REMEMBER that he's not supposed to stand up out of his wheelchair and walk without help? Well, no. He can't. Sigh. Even my sweet, positive-thinking Dawn, who has years and years of experience with Alzheimer's patients, has told me that the falls are going to happen in nearly any type of caregiver situation as long as my dad's still ambulatory. Double sigh.
But, we still have our dear J, his private aide who comes a few times a week. And Dad and I still have our moments together; I bring him Pepsis and Little Debbie cakes and his grandbabies.
Meanwhile, we're in the midst of one of the more spectacular autumns that I can remember. I find myself looking up at the trees all the time, even when I really, really shouldn't (like when I'm oh, behind the wheel of the van)!
Halloween was fun, even though poor Liv was sick with what started as a cold but turned into pneumonia a week later. She had a slight fever and sore throat on Halloween night, and had to stay in except for a quick pity trip to a few close neighbors' houses for candy.
Here are some pics:
Very scary transformer with my husband's eyes threatens us with a Kit Kat in each hand.
The grumpy mermaid was not amused.
Wally the Wonderdog protects hearth and home.
Mirror, mirror. . .Liv gets her first salon up-do for the American Girl fashion show rehearsal (the actual big show is Nov. 21).
So, it seems that just because my dad may not be fully aware of every event in his life, his life still evolves and changes just like anyone else's.
Due to a series of recent falls, he's now in a skilled nursing facility until he's more steady on his feet and can returned to "an assisted living environment." His Dr., the hospital social worker and I came to this decision after the most recent tumble and subsequent overnight hospital stay. My dad had stood up out of his wheelchair unassisted, which is a no-no, and took a header on the bricks of the courtyard outside Sunrise.
He's in a wheelchair part of the time these days, but he can walk pretty well either with assistance or if he's holding onto the wall railing at the nursing home. My question is, can a person with severe memory impairment REMEMBER that he's not supposed to stand up out of his wheelchair and walk without help? Well, no. He can't. Sigh. Even my sweet, positive-thinking Dawn, who has years and years of experience with Alzheimer's patients, has told me that the falls are going to happen in nearly any type of caregiver situation as long as my dad's still ambulatory. Double sigh.
But, we still have our dear J, his private aide who comes a few times a week. And Dad and I still have our moments together; I bring him Pepsis and Little Debbie cakes and his grandbabies.
Meanwhile, we're in the midst of one of the more spectacular autumns that I can remember. I find myself looking up at the trees all the time, even when I really, really shouldn't (like when I'm oh, behind the wheel of the van)!
Halloween was fun, even though poor Liv was sick with what started as a cold but turned into pneumonia a week later. She had a slight fever and sore throat on Halloween night, and had to stay in except for a quick pity trip to a few close neighbors' houses for candy.
Here are some pics:
Very scary transformer with my husband's eyes threatens us with a Kit Kat in each hand.
The grumpy mermaid was not amused.
Wally the Wonderdog protects hearth and home.
Mirror, mirror. . .Liv gets her first salon up-do for the American Girl fashion show rehearsal (the actual big show is Nov. 21).
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Why are my feet cold? And why are there wet, yellow leaves on my front steps? What? It's OCTOBER, you say?
October is a perfect time to discuss September!
September '09 launched my body,however unwillingly, into its fourth decade on this fine planet. There were a few other milestones, too, and I managed to capture some in pictures. Of course, there were many moments that unfortunately were not recorded for prosperity. Like the five whole nanoseconds that my minivan was clean, September 14 I think it was. Or the day I was actually able to blowdry my hair the exact same way as my stylist. You know, the important stuff. OH, and one tragic incident involving Wally dressed in an Americal Girl nightgown. Let's just say the culprit was apprehended and dealt with. Our poor Wally, however, may still need some intense canine therapy.
This is how my birthday started. Yes, that's a diaper. On a balloon. My team's way of showing their love.
But there were also these. . .
and later, one of these. A Senor Tequila masterpiece.
And here we are together with hubs. Look out, Charlotte--oldies on the loose!
Other random September moments. . .
The most stubborn wiggly tooth in history finally succombs to its fate---in a bouncy house outside a BBQ restaurant while staying with Grandma! Mom and Dad were busy sipping the Midori Margaritas in the above photo. The tooth fairy still visited, but alas, the tooth itself was never recovered. We've since had to convince the Nater that the tooth fairy only brings FIVE DOLLARS for the first tooth. Hey, we've got to have something left for college.
Outside Barnes and Noble--photo by Grandma.
Perusing Grandma's purchases like possums.
One evening while the boys went camping, this lovely lady was my dinner date. She's cute, but she talks a lot.
September '09 launched my body,however unwillingly, into its fourth decade on this fine planet. There were a few other milestones, too, and I managed to capture some in pictures. Of course, there were many moments that unfortunately were not recorded for prosperity. Like the five whole nanoseconds that my minivan was clean, September 14 I think it was. Or the day I was actually able to blowdry my hair the exact same way as my stylist. You know, the important stuff. OH, and one tragic incident involving Wally dressed in an Americal Girl nightgown. Let's just say the culprit was apprehended and dealt with. Our poor Wally, however, may still need some intense canine therapy.
This is how my birthday started. Yes, that's a diaper. On a balloon. My team's way of showing their love.
But there were also these. . .
and later, one of these. A Senor Tequila masterpiece.
And here we are together with hubs. Look out, Charlotte--oldies on the loose!
Other random September moments. . .
The most stubborn wiggly tooth in history finally succombs to its fate---in a bouncy house outside a BBQ restaurant while staying with Grandma! Mom and Dad were busy sipping the Midori Margaritas in the above photo. The tooth fairy still visited, but alas, the tooth itself was never recovered. We've since had to convince the Nater that the tooth fairy only brings FIVE DOLLARS for the first tooth. Hey, we've got to have something left for college.
Outside Barnes and Noble--photo by Grandma.
Perusing Grandma's purchases like possums.
One evening while the boys went camping, this lovely lady was my dinner date. She's cute, but she talks a lot.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I'll try to recall July. . .as we say goodbye to August!
To say that summer whizzed by is a huge understatement. The hugest. Wait, is that a word? Anyway. It whizzed all right, and here I am, about to give a July recap when it dawns on me that it also happens to be freaking AUGUST 29th!! School has already started back (and the work-from-home dads and moms say whoop-whoop)!
July was a blissful blur that involved us joining the local pool,Nate turning six (complete with a bash at My Gym play center), making homemade ice cream, eating homemade pico de gallo and guacamole two or three times a week. Near the end of the month, my dad had a great visit with his new neurologist and then promptly went into the hospital the next morning after suffering a seizure. Turns out seizures sometimes occur in a small percentage of advanced Alzheimer's patients. Lucky him, huh? He was in the hospital for about a week and a-half, then returned to Sunrise.
After he got settled back in, we grasped the opportunity to go to the beach for a few days and reconnect. It was wonderful. We hit Brookgreen Gardens at Murrell's Inlet for the first time ever- -what a magical place. All that beautiful art existing with nature. Gorgeous. Our guide was named Millie, a lovely little pixie-haired lady with silvery hair, dangly turquoise earrings and bright red lipstick. When she was showing us the aviary, she stuck out her index finger and a luminous, blue-green dragonfly perched right on it. She smiled down at the kids. "He does that nearly every time." Olivia was enraptured, and so was I. We'd follow Millie anywhere!
The morning after the beach trip, a Sunrise nurse called to let me know my dad was having trouble breathing. Back to the ER; this time, pneumonia. Poor Dad. He hadn't had a chance to really recuperate yet, and here he was again, flat on his back in a place where every morning he was surrounded by strangers, even if he'd seen them a dozen times the day before. I had to chuckle one night when I was visiting and the Dr. dropped in. "Tracy!" my dad rasped. "Fix the man something to eat!"
"Um, are you hungry, Dr. Manet?" I asked, smiling.
"No,no, I'm quite all right," he answered.
"Well," my dad replied--"I just thought she might want to DO something instead of sittin' there."
Yeah.
I sure wish I could do something, too.
Anyway. This time he was in for a week and now he's back at Sunrise again, in a wheelchair for now, until his legs get stronger. He's getting physical, occupational and speech therapy several times a week to help him along.
This summer has also found me in the movie theater! Twice! Being married to Mr.-Wait-For-DVD, this is quite an unusual sitchiation. In July, Pam and Ro came to visit and Pam, Beth and I all went to see The Proposal. I'm usually not one for chick flicks but I have to admit this one made me laugh out loud. Then in early August my Dawn went with me to see Julie and Julia and I swear---one of the best films I've ever, ever seen. Nora Ephron might've taken some liberties with Child's actual history, but---who cares?? After watching it, I felt truly priveleged to have done so. And hungry. I mean, Beef Bourginon? Chocolate mousse? Maine lobster? Total tummy porn.
Random update time:
What's on the night stand: Earthly Delights by Kerry Greenwood. This chick is awesome---an Austrailian mystery writer, Greenwood conjured up one of the funniest, most fascinating characters ever. Corinna Chapman, a baker in Melbourne, who describes her 4 a.m. morning routine in such a way that actually makes the reader want to be awake with her, turning on the ovens, starting the coffee and mixing the raspberry white chocolate muffins.
What's for dinner: Shredded chicken tacos. Super easy for a busy Saturday. Four chicken breasts in the crockpot with a jar of salsa verde, cook on low for six hours, then shred with two forks. Taco time!
Current state of Nate: Growing, growing, growing. His legs are growing so much, they sometimes throb, something I remember going through as a kid. So, I rub them, and think of how they used to be little Michelin-man chunky baby legs.
He started first grade on Tuesday, and loves it so far. Tonight he explained compound words in between bites of taco.
Current state of Olivia: Lovely, tan, long-limbed and chatty. Loving third grade. Almost as much as we're loving her.
July was a blissful blur that involved us joining the local pool,Nate turning six (complete with a bash at My Gym play center), making homemade ice cream, eating homemade pico de gallo and guacamole two or three times a week. Near the end of the month, my dad had a great visit with his new neurologist and then promptly went into the hospital the next morning after suffering a seizure. Turns out seizures sometimes occur in a small percentage of advanced Alzheimer's patients. Lucky him, huh? He was in the hospital for about a week and a-half, then returned to Sunrise.
After he got settled back in, we grasped the opportunity to go to the beach for a few days and reconnect. It was wonderful. We hit Brookgreen Gardens at Murrell's Inlet for the first time ever- -what a magical place. All that beautiful art existing with nature. Gorgeous. Our guide was named Millie, a lovely little pixie-haired lady with silvery hair, dangly turquoise earrings and bright red lipstick. When she was showing us the aviary, she stuck out her index finger and a luminous, blue-green dragonfly perched right on it. She smiled down at the kids. "He does that nearly every time." Olivia was enraptured, and so was I. We'd follow Millie anywhere!
The morning after the beach trip, a Sunrise nurse called to let me know my dad was having trouble breathing. Back to the ER; this time, pneumonia. Poor Dad. He hadn't had a chance to really recuperate yet, and here he was again, flat on his back in a place where every morning he was surrounded by strangers, even if he'd seen them a dozen times the day before. I had to chuckle one night when I was visiting and the Dr. dropped in. "Tracy!" my dad rasped. "Fix the man something to eat!"
"Um, are you hungry, Dr. Manet?" I asked, smiling.
"No,no, I'm quite all right," he answered.
"Well," my dad replied--"I just thought she might want to DO something instead of sittin' there."
Yeah.
I sure wish I could do something, too.
Anyway. This time he was in for a week and now he's back at Sunrise again, in a wheelchair for now, until his legs get stronger. He's getting physical, occupational and speech therapy several times a week to help him along.
This summer has also found me in the movie theater! Twice! Being married to Mr.-Wait-For-DVD, this is quite an unusual sitchiation. In July, Pam and Ro came to visit and Pam, Beth and I all went to see The Proposal. I'm usually not one for chick flicks but I have to admit this one made me laugh out loud. Then in early August my Dawn went with me to see Julie and Julia and I swear---one of the best films I've ever, ever seen. Nora Ephron might've taken some liberties with Child's actual history, but---who cares?? After watching it, I felt truly priveleged to have done so. And hungry. I mean, Beef Bourginon? Chocolate mousse? Maine lobster? Total tummy porn.
Random update time:
What's on the night stand: Earthly Delights by Kerry Greenwood. This chick is awesome---an Austrailian mystery writer, Greenwood conjured up one of the funniest, most fascinating characters ever. Corinna Chapman, a baker in Melbourne, who describes her 4 a.m. morning routine in such a way that actually makes the reader want to be awake with her, turning on the ovens, starting the coffee and mixing the raspberry white chocolate muffins.
What's for dinner: Shredded chicken tacos. Super easy for a busy Saturday. Four chicken breasts in the crockpot with a jar of salsa verde, cook on low for six hours, then shred with two forks. Taco time!
Current state of Nate: Growing, growing, growing. His legs are growing so much, they sometimes throb, something I remember going through as a kid. So, I rub them, and think of how they used to be little Michelin-man chunky baby legs.
He started first grade on Tuesday, and loves it so far. Tonight he explained compound words in between bites of taco.
Current state of Olivia: Lovely, tan, long-limbed and chatty. Loving third grade. Almost as much as we're loving her.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Our second adoption
Despite our inner little voices telling us we should wait until "things calm down" a bit around here. . .
Despite the fact that we have two hungry little punks around here already. . .
Despite all that, we were simply in need of a few more smiles around these parts.
So, we started the paperwork process about a month ago and then, suddenly, we were fast-tracked into becoming a household of five.
What can we say? The heart wants what it wants. And life, with its never-ending twists and turns, will keep happening. There's never a "perfect time" for anything, and postponing joy is typically advised against, isn't it?
Our new little Pellin isn't a newborn; at two and a-half he's already potty trained! He also adores his brother and sister and trust me, the feeling is quite mutual. He's a blonde, brown-eyed cutie. Oh, and he has the cutest little beard.
Because he's part terrier.
And dachshund, too.
And did I mention photogenic?
Meet Wally. June just beat May by a landslide.
Despite the fact that we have two hungry little punks around here already. . .
Despite all that, we were simply in need of a few more smiles around these parts.
So, we started the paperwork process about a month ago and then, suddenly, we were fast-tracked into becoming a household of five.
What can we say? The heart wants what it wants. And life, with its never-ending twists and turns, will keep happening. There's never a "perfect time" for anything, and postponing joy is typically advised against, isn't it?
Our new little Pellin isn't a newborn; at two and a-half he's already potty trained! He also adores his brother and sister and trust me, the feeling is quite mutual. He's a blonde, brown-eyed cutie. Oh, and he has the cutest little beard.
Because he's part terrier.
And dachshund, too.
And did I mention photogenic?
Meet Wally. June just beat May by a landslide.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Farewell, May. It's been real. And fun. But not real fun.
This past week has been a roller coaster and NOT the fun kind. My dad has been back at Sunrise (the assisted living center) since his release from the hospital about two weeks ago.
HowEVER. . . since coming back I've received countless phone calls to come calm him down for various reasons, and we've experienced one overnight hospital stay for observation, which left me crawling numbly into bed at 2 a.m. with a presentation to give at work just hours later.
With the advice of the Sunrise staff, we've worked out a schedule with another private aide who fills in the gaps when our wonderful J can't be there due to his other caregiving assignment. So, someone will be with him one-on-one from morning until bedtime for at least the next seven days or until he adjusts to his most recent medication change. An expensive proposition, but I have to say I've enjoyed the last couple of days with no nightly phone calls!
Things were starting to simmer down on that front when Olivia woke up Friday morning with a 103-degree fever. Hubs took her in to Dr. Will and he diagnosed her with the flu---the real deal. He gave her a nasal-swab test and it was positive immediately. Poor, sweet girl. She was so pitiful looking--her poison ivy still hasn't completely cleared up in some spots and now this. I'm guessing May 2009 won't go down as her best month ever.
She's taking an anti-viral prescription which seems to be working; she's been able to keep her fever down all day for the first time since Friday. She's currently up in her room watching Bedtime Stories on the portable DVD player, cackling away. I never thought I'd say this but thank God for Adam Sandler. Hubs got her a new Nintendo DS game today but we're saving it for tomorrow since she has to be out of school for at least a couple of days next week.
Here's hoping for a bright, shiny June!
HowEVER. . . since coming back I've received countless phone calls to come calm him down for various reasons, and we've experienced one overnight hospital stay for observation, which left me crawling numbly into bed at 2 a.m. with a presentation to give at work just hours later.
With the advice of the Sunrise staff, we've worked out a schedule with another private aide who fills in the gaps when our wonderful J can't be there due to his other caregiving assignment. So, someone will be with him one-on-one from morning until bedtime for at least the next seven days or until he adjusts to his most recent medication change. An expensive proposition, but I have to say I've enjoyed the last couple of days with no nightly phone calls!
Things were starting to simmer down on that front when Olivia woke up Friday morning with a 103-degree fever. Hubs took her in to Dr. Will and he diagnosed her with the flu---the real deal. He gave her a nasal-swab test and it was positive immediately. Poor, sweet girl. She was so pitiful looking--her poison ivy still hasn't completely cleared up in some spots and now this. I'm guessing May 2009 won't go down as her best month ever.
She's taking an anti-viral prescription which seems to be working; she's been able to keep her fever down all day for the first time since Friday. She's currently up in her room watching Bedtime Stories on the portable DVD player, cackling away. I never thought I'd say this but thank God for Adam Sandler. Hubs got her a new Nintendo DS game today but we're saving it for tomorrow since she has to be out of school for at least a couple of days next week.
Here's hoping for a bright, shiny June!
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