It was a fine Monday afternoon. I was in my ruby red car ("Petunia"), on the highway, on my way to see my beloved, listening with satisfaction to the audio version of Pride and Prejudice, when my dash display indicated an incoming call from a number I didn't recognize. Because the hospice folks call from their cell phones, I do my best to answer now, just in case. I always hope it's a spam call, though, because calls from hospice or the facility always throw me into panic mode. There has simply been so much stress, so many not-so-good-news calls, and so many fight-or-flight reactions that my heart automatically skips a beat. Breathe in. Breathe out slowly. Breathe in. Breathe out slowly. Stay calm.
I pressed the answer button on my steering wheel. It was the facility, and the voice of the medical technician came through the speakers. My husband had suffered a major seizure as he was walking; hit his head while falling, unconscious, to the floor; and been unresponsive long enough to cause alarm before "coming to." Hospice had been called, and the hospice doctor deemed it best to send my husband to the emergency room for a CT scan to rule out a brain bleed. If so, it would be an important thing to know.
Somehow, I managed to maintain my composure behind the wheel, arriving at the facility just as his ambulance was leaving. I followed, and within minutes he'd been transferred to the emergency room, where I tried to keep him calm and comfortable while we waited. His blood pressure, heart rate, pulse, oxygenation, and temperature were all normal. I was happy that it wasn't necessary to draw blood, do an IV, or try to get a urine sample. Sticking him with needles would have caused him such distress, and he was trying to pull off the monitoring gadgets that were fastened to him as it was.
Ultimately, the CT scan results were also okay, though that experience was good for a chuckle: "Ma'am, we need your husband to lay flat on his back and keep his head very still for this," said the technician. My response? "Good luck with that!" But they somehow managed, my husband was discharged and returned to the facility, and that was that.
I stayed with him for several hours, watching over him so he wouldn't be alone. Just in case. It wasn't exactly the kind of visit I had hoped to have with him, but all's well that ends well.
By the way, in case you're wondering about his weight, it had to be checked twice again this month. When I asked if he'd been weighed and his chart was checked, the weight shown seemed too high. I asked that he be weighed again, and he seems to weigh the same as last month. But who knows? It would be fantastic to have confidence in that number.
Showing posts with label seizures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seizures. Show all posts
Friday, August 9, 2019
Friday, February 15, 2019
More Seizures
February 12, 2019
A week ago today, my husband had two seizures in less than 12 hours. It was the first time, as far as we know, that he experienced more than one seizure in one day. Or even in one week. His medications were adjusted once again. There has been quite a bit of that, as everything is experimental at this point. The combination that's successful today might not be effective tomorrow.
The next day, he was somewhat lethargic and recovering from the event. He had bitten his tongue and cheek rather badly, so eating was uncomfortable. But he did eat and drink, so that's good.
The day after that, in the morning, I received a phone call from the hospice nurse. Usually when I receive a call from either the facility or the nurse in the morning, it isn't a good thing. So when I heard her voice, I was instantly -- and understandably -- apprehensive. But she wasn't calling to give me bad news. She was calling because she wanted me to know how surprisingly alert he was, how he had sat down next to her and smiled pleasantly, how responsive he was to her questions. She hoped he could "talk" to me on the phone, but he was unable to figure out how to navigate that. I heard him cheerfully say one or two words to her in the background, and it made me happy to hear his voice.
The previous time he had a seizure, in early January, he was also more alert once he had recovered from the event. For a day or two, anyhow. It's odd, and I have no explanation for it; but, I thought I'd mention it in case one of you dear readers can offer any insight.
So far, he seems to be supporting the change in medications very well. On another positive note, and there's no way to tell if it's because of the medications or if it's the progression of the disease, the staff members told me he isn't putting up as much of a fuss when it comes to personal care. We don't know if that's a passing thing or if it's the "new normal," but we'll take it!
A week ago today, my husband had two seizures in less than 12 hours. It was the first time, as far as we know, that he experienced more than one seizure in one day. Or even in one week. His medications were adjusted once again. There has been quite a bit of that, as everything is experimental at this point. The combination that's successful today might not be effective tomorrow.
The next day, he was somewhat lethargic and recovering from the event. He had bitten his tongue and cheek rather badly, so eating was uncomfortable. But he did eat and drink, so that's good.
The day after that, in the morning, I received a phone call from the hospice nurse. Usually when I receive a call from either the facility or the nurse in the morning, it isn't a good thing. So when I heard her voice, I was instantly -- and understandably -- apprehensive. But she wasn't calling to give me bad news. She was calling because she wanted me to know how surprisingly alert he was, how he had sat down next to her and smiled pleasantly, how responsive he was to her questions. She hoped he could "talk" to me on the phone, but he was unable to figure out how to navigate that. I heard him cheerfully say one or two words to her in the background, and it made me happy to hear his voice.
The previous time he had a seizure, in early January, he was also more alert once he had recovered from the event. For a day or two, anyhow. It's odd, and I have no explanation for it; but, I thought I'd mention it in case one of you dear readers can offer any insight.
So far, he seems to be supporting the change in medications very well. On another positive note, and there's no way to tell if it's because of the medications or if it's the progression of the disease, the staff members told me he isn't putting up as much of a fuss when it comes to personal care. We don't know if that's a passing thing or if it's the "new normal," but we'll take it!
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
Seizures
January 2, 2019 (Happy New Year to you, dear reader!)
My husband had another seizure this morning. They seem to be happening with increased frequency and intensity, with the last two being December 22 and January 2 (this morning). These are not minor little "blank out seizures." They are more like grand mal, with foaming at the mouth and biting of the tongue. They seem to occur in the early morning generally, so far. I haven't witnessed one, but the description by the caregiver is quite dramatic. Since my husband and I have had no first-hand experience with seizures before, this is another learning curve for me. And of course it's also another source of stress. I find that my worry journal is very effective at helping me sort stress out these days!
The hospice nurse is called when my husband has a health event, and he or she visits in person to do an assessment, reports his or her findings to the doctor, and the doctor decides what to do about treatment, if any. Everything is handled direct with the facility, and I get a phone call from the facility to report the incident to me, then a phone call from the nurse to report observations, possible medication changes, and so on. When a stressful phone call wakes you out of a deep sleep and someone starts rattling off medication names and doses, it isn't always easy to grasp the conversation through the thick fog and the adrenaline. I've decided that whenever this happens, I will ask the medical technician at the facility for a new printout of medication orders for my file. I hope this will help me stay on top of things that have a tendency to spiral out of control at the drop of a hat.
When I went to see my husband today, he was rather lethargic, seemed to have a headache (He is unable to say, "I have a headache," but he did cup his hand on his head, exclaiming, "Ouch!"), and mostly wanted to curl up on his bed. All of that is apparently normal following a seizure. In spite of all that, he did eat all of his meal, which was served in his room. His appetite continues to be very good. And speaking of his appetite, I think I may have mentioned his substantial weight loss (from almost 200 lbs. down to 154 lbs.) and the fact that hospice has requested that he be given double portions if he will tolerate them. This is to ascertain whether his body is not processing nutrients or whether he isn't getting enough calories for weight maintenance.
The good news is that he tolerates the additional food and has gained five pounds! Anyone else would have gained 20 with the size helpings they put on his plate and the Ensure nutritional supplement, but I'll take the five. Apparently, his continuous pacing (though at a snail's pace) is causing his body to burn through the fuel provided. He can still absorb nutrition. Or at least if he isn't able to soak up everything, he's still able to absorb quite a bit.
I'd say this weight gain is an addendum to our Christmas miracle. Wouldn't you?
My husband had another seizure this morning. They seem to be happening with increased frequency and intensity, with the last two being December 22 and January 2 (this morning). These are not minor little "blank out seizures." They are more like grand mal, with foaming at the mouth and biting of the tongue. They seem to occur in the early morning generally, so far. I haven't witnessed one, but the description by the caregiver is quite dramatic. Since my husband and I have had no first-hand experience with seizures before, this is another learning curve for me. And of course it's also another source of stress. I find that my worry journal is very effective at helping me sort stress out these days!
The hospice nurse is called when my husband has a health event, and he or she visits in person to do an assessment, reports his or her findings to the doctor, and the doctor decides what to do about treatment, if any. Everything is handled direct with the facility, and I get a phone call from the facility to report the incident to me, then a phone call from the nurse to report observations, possible medication changes, and so on. When a stressful phone call wakes you out of a deep sleep and someone starts rattling off medication names and doses, it isn't always easy to grasp the conversation through the thick fog and the adrenaline. I've decided that whenever this happens, I will ask the medical technician at the facility for a new printout of medication orders for my file. I hope this will help me stay on top of things that have a tendency to spiral out of control at the drop of a hat.
When I went to see my husband today, he was rather lethargic, seemed to have a headache (He is unable to say, "I have a headache," but he did cup his hand on his head, exclaiming, "Ouch!"), and mostly wanted to curl up on his bed. All of that is apparently normal following a seizure. In spite of all that, he did eat all of his meal, which was served in his room. His appetite continues to be very good. And speaking of his appetite, I think I may have mentioned his substantial weight loss (from almost 200 lbs. down to 154 lbs.) and the fact that hospice has requested that he be given double portions if he will tolerate them. This is to ascertain whether his body is not processing nutrients or whether he isn't getting enough calories for weight maintenance.
The good news is that he tolerates the additional food and has gained five pounds! Anyone else would have gained 20 with the size helpings they put on his plate and the Ensure nutritional supplement, but I'll take the five. Apparently, his continuous pacing (though at a snail's pace) is causing his body to burn through the fuel provided. He can still absorb nutrition. Or at least if he isn't able to soak up everything, he's still able to absorb quite a bit.
I'd say this weight gain is an addendum to our Christmas miracle. Wouldn't you?
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