After waiting 5 hours for the last doctor to discharge Wendell, we finally were able to leave the hospital for home. It was too late to stop for his prescriptions for his new meds.
Arriving home was supposed to be relaxing and easy- but just the opposite occurred. It was a nightmare for me.. I think because I was feeling so responsible for everything, and I was already exhausted and hadn't eaten but a bowl of cereal and 3 strawberries that day. It was about 6pm.
Wendell still was feeling short of breath, we had NO oxygen other than the portable tank on wheels they'd given us at the hospital, and though Wendell had dinner at the hospital while we waited for the doctors to finish with him, I had not, and I felt so starved.
The answering machine had about 8 messages from the visiting nurses, the delivery driver with his oxygen, and then family too. Before I could call any of them back, the Visiting nurse called here and made arrangements for 8am Tuesday morning. The delivery driver wanted to deliver the oxygen within 20 minutes......but the most stressful thing was that his nurse called from the hospital and asked me to go back or send someone to pick up his script for the O2 that was arriving in about 20 minutes. I told her to fax it to Klingensmiths, but she said he HAD to have the script... so I arranged to meet her at the Penn Township Fire Hall..about 5 minutes away. As I got into the car, the delivery man arrived and I explained the situation to him. He said I didn't need the script- someone could get it later, but I'd already made the arrangements and didn't know how to get ahold of the nurse.
I was still about starved, feeling stressed to the limit, and wanted to cry. I arrived home about when the delivery man was ready to leave. Ok... so far, so good.
The next day, Wendell got his nebulizer for his breathing treatments which he does every 6 hours. The VNA nurse came and did her assessment and offered to do her paperwork in our living room while I ran to the Medicine Shoppe to get his meds that we couldn't get the night before.
Wendell and I decided even before he got discharged that we'd need some quiet time during the day. I'm still recuperating from a stroke last December and require more rest than ever. Wendell just gets breathless trying to talk to everyone he possibly can.. He loves the chats, but it does tire him out. So, everyone was "put on notice".. for the time being, 2pm to 4pm is rest time at our house.. no phone calls, and no visitors. We lay down and sleep for the 2 hour stretch. It's amazing what that little nap can do to make the day move a little better.
The next thing was the visit from the respiratory therapist.. Debbie. I know her well. She set up my CPAP. She brought the little portable O2 cannisters so Wendell can be up and walking.
And she brought more equipment so we can fill our cannisters here with the O2 concentrator.
Thursday I worked in the office for Dr Mitra. I got home at 2pm. Keith stayed with Wendell for that time that I was gone. What a gem. He's also volunteered for next Thursday.
Our children have been so supportive and helpful. I don't know what we would do without them all. Each one has a 'gift' they have offered to help out. And the grandchildren have been a real boost to his well being. Gaylie likes to talk on the phone and sings to him - every day since he was out of the SICU.
Thursday wasn't a good day for him.. more shortness of breath- not bad, but annoying. And his left leg was more swollen and the incisions looked angry. He just didn't feel good.
He became very short of breath with his first shower since arriving home.. so much that I gave him a bolus of oxygen at 5 L for 5 minutes till he felt more in control. He used the small tank the rest of the evening at 3 liters.. and then at bedtime too.
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