In the Ensuing Panic

I rarely get angry because of the amount of energy it takes. I would rather use what I have elsewhere. I am not talking mad; wherein I generally curse (as little as possible), throw (minor, unbreakable) things and generally stomp about. I am talking about major anger in which I become very quiet and very controlled. FMP informs me that this is one of the scariest things he has ever seen. The last time it happened, we were in possession of only two children, RTA and IRP. To put this is perspective, CPI just turned 18.

Anyway, we noticed today that IRP’s pain patches, which had been used in the hospital, had not been put on at the new place. We asked about them at about 1:15. By 5:30, the rest of the family had left for the night. At 6:15, IRP called in tears to say that she had just been told that the patch prescription had not been sent over and the doctor at the extended-care facility could not prescribe them without seeing, in writing, what strength the original patches had been. Why did it take five hours to come to this conclusion?

In addition, IRP would frequently have to call two or three times to get her pain medication and then wait up to thirty minutes to receive it after someone finally responded. She asked to have her PICC (permanent IV port) dressing changed before we left and it had not been. IRP does not call for her medicine until she is at least a four on the ten-point pain scale. The length of time it was taking her to get it meant that she was at a ten by the time it arrived. IRP has spent her entire life in some form of pain or the other. This was NOT acceptable. In addition, every time the pain gets that bad, IRP starts crying. Every bit of energy she spends fighting pain is not available to fight the infection. I can’t have this and I won’t.

IRP’s pain medications are now to be given to her on schedule whether she asks for them or not. The PICC line has been cleaned and the dressing changed. The doctor has been given the strength of the patch straight from the hospital report and IRP is happy once more. I hope I made my position perfectly clear. If not, I will just have to do it all again with someone a bit higher.

TSG

At about 2:00 this morning, the respiratory therapist came in with IRP’s breathing treatment. She was sleeping soundly up until that time. After he left, she began to complain of intense pain. Her pain medication was not due for another hour and a half. Next thing we know, they are rolling IRP down to have a CAT scan. There was no running around drawing blood, etc., so we were not alarmed.

At about 6:30, a nurse came in and sorrowfully removed IRP’s bag of chips in mid-nibble, telling her that the attending doctor had said that she was not to have anything by mouth.. In addition, IRP was to go back on the intravenous nutrition. Fortunately, the nurse soon returned to say that the surgeon had restored liquids to IRP, so that was little better. I asked the nurse what the results were, but she could not tell me until a doctor arrived.

About thirty minutes ago, the infection specialist was in. He said that there is a 2.5 inch pocket of infection in IRP’s side. It is not serious and the surgeon will decide shortly whether to reposition the stent in IRP’s abdomen or leave it where it is to finish draining the area.

IRP and we were upset about this for a bit, as is natural, but now we are just going to get through it like everything else. I do wish, however, that we could quit doing things in the middle of the night. Seriously, even the chickens were still in bed!