Monthly Archives: November 2015
Not sure how long he’ll be there…
You never know what each day will bring.
Yesterday, they released my husband, The Curmudgeon, to Good Shepherd Rehab Hospital. Where with hard work on his part and plenty of luck we hope he’ll come home soon. I’m still waiting to hear if he’s settled in there. Last I heard They were transporting a half hour from his call.
I wish to thank everyone for their prayers and good thoughts.
Now I’ll go relax with the dogs.
Today’s T-shirt
Very good news
So, if all goes well, The Curmudgeon should be in Good Shepherd rehab hospital by late afternoon.
How long he’ll be there, I have no idea.
I do hope that they can get him back to where he can take care of himself as he was doing before all this.
I truly fear that we need to sell this house and move to where we can manage more easily. However, to do that we have plenty of work that needs completion to get the house up to where we can sell it.
He’s starting to sound like his old self again
The Curmudgeon sounds like himself again. He called me a couple of times yesterday. He’s gone from death’s door to almost back.
I did not hear the weak old man voice rambling on about nonsense. I heard his old self.
Monday the doctors plan to redo all the paperwork to get him in Good Shepherd rehab. Seems that even though the insurance company had authorized him going there, when he had that set-back this past week, then they have to start it all over again.
Keep your fingers crossed!
I will keep on watching for him!
Quiet day
Momma is too tired to update. She didn’t go in to see Daddy yesterday since we didn’t let her get enough sleep. Instead, she tried to catch enough sleep, she says, once again we were no help.
I the Gavin was a whiney butt all day.
He’s still doing well
The Curmudgeon looked much more like himself when G and I stopped by to see him.
Rick was there and had him nicely shaved when we arrived. The Curmudgeon teased Rick that he could have a new vocation as a barber.
Later, The Curmudgeon was in for a surprise when our next door neighbor and her daughter stopped in to visit him. I sent along a Ty Beanie Baby bull terrier with them to keep him company.
After they left, he phoned me, he was very tired but happy he’d had visitors.
Finally a good update?
The Curmudgeon seemed to have a good day yesterday, that’s what Rick told me after he went to see him.
The doctor called later that evening but she had no explanations nor would she even try. She insisted that the neurologist would call me–he never did. Therefore I still know nothing.
I had to make a vet run for the dogs yesterday since their allergies are acting up and the poor babies are itchy. They are much more comfortable now.
Curmudgeon update
He’s coherent! I talked to him on the phone twice, once yesterday afternoon and again in the evening. They still won’t let him eat or drink because of his swallowing problem so he asks that you all have a drink and eat something for him.
He’s weak and tires easily, but would love visitors for short periods, to keep his spirits up. G and I will be going in to see him tomorrow, I think Rick will be in to see him too.
The doctors say they think he’s been having pseudo seizures. Nothing shows on his MRIs or EEGs. His blood work and all is good.
In other words: they still can’t figure out what is happening.
An ENT doctor will be checking on him about his swallowing problem and who knows who all else will be dropping in so his insurance company can pay them.
The Curmudgeon and Gavin
Please, get a clue Doc and don’t lie to me.
After having chest pains upon arriving home from seeing The Curmudgeon, I called my cardiologist. He called me back within minutes and told me to stay away from the hospital for a few days if I wanted to survive. I had to do as he said or he threatened to admit me to the Allentown St. Luke’s.
I didn’t hear a word from the hospital until seven p.m. When yet another doctor called to tell me that it isn’t seizures, it’s not strokes, but when asked “what is it?” Didn’t have a clue.
“We’re running more tests and he seemed better today.”
Yeah, you guys always say he’s better when I’m not there to call you on it.
Yes, I raised my voice at the doctor and yes, I called her on a few things she hemmed and hawed around. And yes, I did say fuck a few times.
The one thing I have asked from them since the beginning is TELL ME THE TRUTH do not candy coat it, do not lie, do not try to soften the blow. I don’t think the truth is too much to ask from them.
Color me frustrated and pissed off.
My chest hurts again.
I thought it couldn’t get worse
I was wrong.
Went to the hospital with The Curmudgeon’s oldest and dearest friend Rick today. I felt that Gina needed a break.
The Curmudgeon’s brain seems fried and beyond reach. Yeah, he didn’t know me.
The doctors don’t know what’s wrong. They’ve put him back on EEG telemetry.
I know I should be there with him each day, but it’s hard to go and see him like this. He’s not there. That’s some stranger in that bed. I don’t think he’s coming home.
I truly wish I hadn’t gone to see him today
As soon as we walked into his room (the third one since he’s been there) I knew something was terribly wrong.
A nurse was feeding him and he was gibbering away about spies, strange machines, and other sorts of nonsense. His hands shook as he plucked at his hospital gown and he looked years older, thinner, and not like himself at all.
My heart shattered. I couldn’t stay in the room with him for more than a few minutes at a time, I’d have to go out into the hall and cry.
Dad is gone, Mom is gone, and three sisters are also gone. The Curmudgeon is an only child and his parents are also gone.
Again, my heart shatters.
I didn’t know I could cry so much.
I didn’t know I could feel so alone.
I didn’t know that I could feel so lost in a room with people.
I don’t think he’s coming home.
Doggonedmysteries 