Friday, July 31, 2009

Secret's Out!

So, for various and sundry reasons, we hadn't told a lot of people about this. Part of it was that DH was tired of being bugged about it, part of it was the jinx factor, part of it was... I don't know... maybe he just wanted to by mysterious about it.

Anyway, DH took the California State Bar exam this week. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, in a big room at the Event Center in San Mateo, with 1,399 of his closest friends. And that's just the San Mateo locations; there were other test sites in California (Sacramento, Oakland, Pasadena, San Diego), each with their own clutch of lawyer-wanna-be's.

Day One is three essays in the morning and a performance test (like an essay on steroids) in the afternoon. Day Two is the Multistate Bar Exam, the same multiple choice test that is given in 46 other states on the same day (the questions are applicable to law situations regardless of location). Day Three is a repeat of Day One - three more essays and a performance test. So that's, in effect, eight essays and 200 multiple choice questions.

As he points out, he has the luxury of not having to worry about the outcome, but for many in the room who may already have gotten jobs at law firms pending their passing the test, a lot is riding on the result - which you don't find out about until November. The stress level in the room is so thick you can feel it (he says).

Each essay is scored by two readers. If their two grades are significantly different from each other, the essay is read a third time. So with 8 essays per person, and multiple thousands of test-takers, it takes a while. Plus, at each test, the Bar Association decides how many new lawyers they want that year, so they see where the results fall, and then figure out what the passing grade is, so there's no known grade to shoot for, like if you get an 82, you're in. That's why the results don't get posted until mid-November, so we get to wait four months to find out if he passed. Since the Cal Bar picks the passing grade, there's no second-guessing how you did. You could get a 97, but if 2,000 people got 98 or higher and 2,000 is their number, then a 97 fails.

We just gotta wait. (Thank you, LMKnits, for reminding me to post this!)

On the plus side, we used his getting through the grueling week as an excuse to get a Wii. And a new TV on which to play the Wii. Wheeeee!

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Dateline Tampa...


Word from the baby brother, currently on Aunt I duty in the greater Tampa area... Aunt Irene has passed her second swallow test. I repeat, Aunt I has has passed her swallow test.

Do I hear you say, "So what?" Here's what's 'so what?' - she can now eat anything she wants!

Her first swallow test was shortly after she was transferred to Kindred. She was still a little weak, but they said she could eat pureed food. So, for the first time since May 21, instead of getting liquid nutrients from a tube, she could eat and taste real food (well, okay, that's a stretch...). That was a pretty exciting step, right up until she realized that the hospital's pureed food selection was very limited. Green goo (peas), orange goo (carrots), light brown goo (chicken), dark brown goo (turkey), white-ish goo (fish, we think). Those were her lunch and dinner choices, with other things like applesauce or sherbet for dessert. Breakfast was better, with a rotation of oatmeal, grits, and scrambled eggs, which she actually liked.

So after a few weeks of that, she started dreaming about real food. We warned her that she'd still be eating hospital food, but decided that even the hospital's version of real food was better than hospital pureed food. Now, after passing her second swallow test with flying colors, she'll get to find out! When I left last Monday, she was craving pork chops... Can someone make a run to Outback?

Yay! Real food!

Monday, July 27, 2009

Slowly Back to Normal

Well, today (Monday) it's been a week since I returned from my Florida adventure. I gotta tell you... I still feel slightly adrift. Maybe it's knowing that Auntie I still has a ways to go, maybe it's just the culture shock after being there for so long, maybe it's just my brain, but not everything feels back to rights yet. I plunged back in to RP work on Thursday and really felt like I could have used a few more days, even though I turned around a fair amount of stuff over the next couple of days. Ach, who knows?

My Wednesday knitting posse came down to the house (instead of my going up to Cupertino) and it was soooo good to see them again (alas, without KB, who got stuck at work again). I don't know if I knit much of anything, but I was just groovin' on the posse vibes and being in their magnificent presence. Individually, they're all fabulous; together, we're freaking awesome. Or as Kadootje's son would say, "epic!"

Thursday night would normally be Thursday knitting, but because I was in Florida when our season's tickets to TheatreWorks started, ChickenKnittle rescheduled our night for that night. The play was not one of TW's best, but that still meant it was pretty good; cute story, fairly predictable. (ChickenKnittle thought the young male lead looked a little like Harry Connick, Jr.; I thought he looked a little like Brendan Frasier.) Anyway, that means I will finally get to see the Thursday crowd this week, including Knitterliness, who is back from her Tour du Paris (which, alas again, did not include a LYS)!

Aunt I continues to make good progress; we're expecting her trach collar to be removed sometime this week. That's so exciting! I get updates from CS, my high-school girlfriend who happens to live around a half-hour from dad. She's gone to see Aunt I twice and always puts a smile on Aunt's face. CS is just that kind of soul, doing wonderful things for people who need wonderful things done. Been that way since high school, a real angel and someone whose capacity for love seems never-ending. I miss you, CS. She'll try to get to visit again during the next week, because she hasn't seen "little Ray" (my brother) in a long time, and he's flying in tomorrow afternoon. (Sorry you have to catch such an early flight, dude!)

I've been making some progress on my Malabrigo socks after turning their heels the last week I was in Florida. I made the reinforced heel a little higher, and have now started the Diagonal Lace pattern (Wendy Johnson) up the leg. I'm almost done with the second repeat. I think it will work, but I reserve the right to rip it out and try something else.

My Clapotis is coming along; it will take a while. It's really easy knitting (except for the rows where you have to start a new drop-stitch placeholder, for which I still need to read the pattern... grrr), it's just that it will be fairly large, so I knit and knit and knit and eventually I'll be able to see that it's gotten bigger.

I also just started a Blanket Buddy for Kadootje's sister, who's due to have her second bebe next month. They're cute and easy to make.

Other than that, there's a little bit of interesting news this week... but I can't tell you until Friday. (I've already blown the secret with a few people so I'm trying to be good for the rest of the week.)

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Happily Home

*sigh* It's so good to be back in my own home, sleeping in my own bed, snuggling up to my own snuggle-bunny. After a brief panic and a quick change in flights (I was originally scheduled to fly TPA-MIA-SFO, but they were having severe weather problems in MIA, so I went TPA-DFW-SFO instead) that got me home 2 hours later than originally planned, the flights themselves were uneventful. We took on more fuel on the TPA-DFW leg because the pilot was going to have to fly around some storms in the Louisiana-Texas neighborhood, but he or she did a good job because we only had around 5 minutes of almost bumpy air.

After a 3-hour layover in DFW (not a bad airport for a layover of that length - especially when you can sit in the Admiral's Club), the leg to SFO was also uneventful. We were flying above the clouds so I could see lots of stars above; I managed to knit a little on my Malabrigo socks and also napped out for about an hour-and-a-half.

One of my highly irrational fears is that I won't recognize someone in a crowd. We're not talking casual acquaintances or people you only know over the internet... I'm talking family, I'm talking friends you've known for years, really close people. So when I got off the plane and started walking through the terminal, I had a brief moment of panic - what if I walk right past Kelly? (I told you it was irrational.) Not to fear, my rational brain took over and I saw him before I was even half-way down the hall. We hugged for a very very long time, and by the time we got to baggage claim, my bag was one of the first ones circling around. An uneventful (but talky) drive home, then I crashed and was asleep by 1:30 AM (4:30 AM Florida time).

We woke up to a nice morning breeze wafting over us and no alarms set, and then I showered in my own shower, got dressed in my own closet, got to wear a different set of clothes than I've been wearing in Florida, and generally just putter about, touching the things I hadn't seen in a long time.

I got a phone call from Kindred that Aunt I's hemoglobin numbers were somehow not what they should be, so they were going to give her some blood and move her to an ICU unit where they could observe her better. I asked them to also call my dad with the information, and when I checked in with him later, he reminded me that Aunt I had been borderline anemic for a while, especially when she was going through her chemo for MMM; getting blood was not unusual. He also said that they were keeping her in ICU overnight, nothing extraordinary. Whew.

It's good to be home.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Look ma, no tubes!



Even better than in the chair and on the dark blue tubes, is being on a smaller trach and just having the oxygen going up her nostrils - breathing allllll on her own now! When we visited this afternoon before my flight home, she was quick to point out that they even removed the ventilator completely from her room. The pictures were taken on Sunday - the one with her sticking her tongue out is closer to the "real" auntie Irene!

One step forward and a small step back... she was also undergoing dialysis when we arrived. Her numbers were creeping back up, so better safe than sorry, they'll do it twice a week instead of three times a week. That's okay; she knows that her kidneys are on the mend and it's just a matter of time now before she's done with that stuff.

When we left yesterday, she said she was going to make sure she had all her anti-anxiety meds ready for when I got there today, because she figured she'd be a wreck knowing I was going. I told her she should have the nurse leave one or two for me, but it was not as bad as I thought. I did all my panicking and worrying in the car on the ride there.

The third picture is of me and my high-school friend Chris, who happens to live about a half-hour from my dad. She was an angel when I was in Florida (as she was in high-school), and became part of my support for being there. This shot was taken Friday night at Outback. We had a great time reconnecting. Thanks, Chrissie!



Right now, aunt I is probably sleeping, and I'm about ready to board the final leg of my trip home - Dallas/Ft.Worth to San Francisco. California, here I come. At last.

Friday, July 17, 2009

A Big Milestone!

Oh, she just couldn't wait to tell everyone who came in the door today - last night, aunt I's nephrologist came in to tell her that she will no longer be getting dialysis three times a week! They will monitor her liquid output and her numbers and make sure everything is okay, but she is no longer getting mandatory 3x dialysis; it's now 'as needed.' She is so happy, she asked for the speaking tube so she could: tell her respiratory therapist, tell her nephew, tell her speech therapist, tell the lady who cleaned the room, tell the CNA... she told everyone.

I can understand why... Being on a respirator and being on dialysis are the two conditions that will limit which nursing facility she can go to next. The respirator is the biggie, and she's working hard on that one, but the dialysis would also restrict her choices, so she's absolutely thrilled.

She was tired today, and had the therapists working her upper body, her legs and lower body, she was off the vent for 12 hours yesterday and would be off it for 12 today, too. Plus she apparently had a washing to end all washings overnight - the CNA or nurse cleaned, in her words, "every nook and cranny," plus she got her hair washed. Apparently, our little meeting yesterday yielded results. As long as they keep it up, I'll feel better about being so far away. I almost said, "as long as dad will continue the fight," but I laughed at that one. Why is it that formerly very successful corporate people (like my dad) revert to 10-year-olds being afraid to speak up for what they want? I'm going to have to push hard from 3,000 miles away next week to make sure aunt I doesn't lose any ground.

A very good day, I'd say; wouldn't you??

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Family Consult at Kindred

When Dad and I got to aunt I's room today, Kiersi (one of her physical therapists) was working with her; they had already decided that since aunt I was very tired, she would just sit on the edge of the bed today instead of getting into the chair (which is very tiring for her). Dad and I were going to have our "family consultation" at 2:00 today; she wanted to be awake and alert enough to hear our report when we came back. Smart cookie, that one. She told us a bit of a horror story, though, about having soiled herself overnight and sitting in her mess for 6 hours, with no one coming to clean her up. She was also told by a morning nurse that her panic attacks were her own fault, and another morning nurse shut off the room air conditioning (which is very problematic since she really overheats when she's taken off the ventilator).

Just as we were going in to the meeting, her speech and swallow therapist came in, and while she had her speaking tube in, we called her good friend Joan in New York, who was delighted to hear her - really *hear* her. We left aunt at 2:00, with the two of them continuing the therapy.

So the "family consultation" was meeting with the directors of the areas of expertise of the hospital. We get to bring all our questions and meet with the case nurse, the head of all rehab, the head of respiratory rehab, and the head dietitian to get answers. Instead of starting in with her physical status, I told them about her overnight experiences. They all had the good sense to look aghast and started scribbling notes. "That should never happen," "thank you for bringing this to our attention," "we have no problem telling workers that if they don't meet the level of care we expect they are welcome to work elsewhere." I told them that this was probably not an aberration, that long response times for nurse calls are not uncommon; we've experienced waits of 20 and 30 minutes, and even at that, we often have to go to the nurses' station to get attention. They said when that happens, I should ask for the nursing supervisor, not the charge nurse and bring it to his/her attention. I guess it really does come down to a squeaky wheel.

We then talked about aunt I's progress. They all agree, she's doing very well. On Monday, the doctor had ordered her off the vent for a half hour or "as tolerating,"; that was the day she handled 2 hours and 15 minutes. So, with such a good day, he upped the orders to be two 2-hour sessions off the vent per day, which she was doing Tuesday and Wednesday. Since she tolerated that so well, he upped the ante: 12 continuous hours off the vent. She still has the VRE infection, but apparently does not have her yeast infection anymore. I asked them how often the patients are supposed to be bathed and have their gowns changed. They said twice a day, once during the day and once at night. I told them that for the previous 2 or 3 days, I didn't think hers had been changed. More scribbling, more notes.

Her big milestones going forward all have to do with getting off the vent and eventually having the trach removed. They count in 3 day chunks of time. I think the ultimate 3-day chunk is 3 days completely off the vent and able to cough up her secretions successfully. Of course, the insurance company's view of when she can be moved is another story. The scary thing we heard is that if she can't/won't wean, there are no respiratory-dependent facilities in the state of Florida to transfer her to. She'd have to go out of state. Good lord...

We got back and auntie I was resting. We gave her our report and told her that even when she's tired, she has to get in the chair every day, has to get her upper body muscles moving around, and has to do her swallow exercises. Off the vent, out of that place. She knows her marching orders.
Busy day: dad gets visit fm home nurse, I wait for A/C repair @ aunt's condo, we both meet w/care providers @ Kindred to get status update.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Tipping point


(Apologies to those of you who just got this in email form.)

It must have happened in aunt Irene's brain about 5 days ago - how to get her out of the hospital. There has been such a marked difference between last week and this week, especially in her panic level at changes in the ventilator. She's stronger, more able to 'skootch' herself up in bed. She's been able to write notes to the staff when they have not been able to read her lips. And she had been on the lowest setting of the ventilator for probably 3 days straight - no vent even at night to rest.

Today, Monday, is one of her dialysis days. In the past she's been very tired, so dad and I don't visit. "It's a long way to go to watch her sleep" was our thought process, and besides, those days gave us a chance to run errands and get other stuff done. Now, though, she's recovering from the tiredness of dialysis faster, so I thought I would surprise her by taking the drive today. When I got near her room, I saw that she was sitting in the chair! She was awake and alert and smiled so broadly when she saw me. She said that she had been in the chair for 2 hours, and was due to get back in bed soon, so she had hoped I would get there before they moved her. I also noticed that she wasn't on the ventilator but taking a page from Michelle's theory ("If you don't tell her, she won't panic"), I didn't point this out to her.

A few minutes after I arrived, the CNA came to move her back to bed, and when I stepped out of the room to let him do his thing, I ran into Michelle (our favorite respiratory therapist). She told me that aunt I had been doing so well, that the pulmonary doctor had placed orders for her to be off the vent for a half-hour "or as tolerated." That meant that if Michelle felt aunt I could stay off longer, she could keep her off. When I asked Michelle if aunt I knew she was off the vent, she said she did - and hadn't panicked at all. She asked for a little bit of the anti-anxiety meds, but had been fine. By the time Michelle put her back on the ventilator, aunt I had been off completely for 2 hours and 15 non-panicking minutes. Aunt I was SO proud of herself; that's why there's such a big smile on her face in the attached photo. I am so very proud of her, too. And to think I almost didn't go today to see this. She still has a long, tough road ahead of her to get strong enough, but I think she'l get there. She said this when this whole thing started and she's right: she's one tough cookie.

Dad's also doing quite fine. The visiting nurse came around yesterday and replaced his pressure bandage with a small gauzy bandage. If the small bandage was dry today, he'd get the go-ahead to take a shower. She came, she checked, he passed! She'll come back Thursday or Friday, then once again next week before he sees the surgeon on 7/24 for a wound check. Dad's still got a fair amount of bruising, but the swelling has gone down quit a bit and he didn't need any pain meds today.

Which means... We've started the "Meg comes home" countdown! I'm taking a late afternoon flight next Monday, July 20, and will be back on terra-very-Califirma around 10:00 that night. (But who's counting...?) OMG, I so need to get home and recharge myself.

Thank you again, everyone, for all your kind words and good thoughts. They've all paid off, in spades. (Keep sending them Florida way, though - none of it is wasted!)

Friday, July 10, 2009

Just saw dad; looking good. A little sore, achey, but doing okay. Ann is with him, I'm heading down to see aunt I now.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Aunt I passed her swallow test and is now allowed to drink thin liquids and eat pureed food! AND they can deflate her trach so she can talk. We heard her!

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

I have been whining & complaining about things which I have no right to complain about. I still have intact lungs & a functioning heart. Weather, schmeather...
I think of M/W/F (days we don't visit aunt) as 'down days,' but we run around & do things we can't do on visiting days, so they're not really 'down' at all...

Monday, July 6, 2009

More Fun With Doctors

Still reeling from having my aunt so far away in the long-term acute-care facility (32 miles, 45 minutes on a good day, $2.00 in tolls - one way). Now dad's got to have an ICD (implantable cardio-verter defibrillator) installed. That should happen this Friday. The urgency of the date is not necessary for dad's health (although it's probably a 'sooner rather than later' situation), but because since I'm here, I can help with the house maintenance and driving for a while.

It's a procedure that requires him to be overnight in the hospital, then no driving for between 7 days and 2 weeks, and no bowling for 6 to 8 weeks. Other than that, it sounds like he won't have many restrictions - well, possibly no left-handed javelin-throwing. Which is something he always wanted to do, I'm sure.

I'll obviously wait until he's through the procedure before booking my flight home, but we're hoping for getting me back to my real life around the 17th - 20th. Ish. My brother is working on getting down to Florida the last week in July (precisely when I have to be home) and will stay for as long as he can, which may only be for a week, but it will help. I'm figuring there's a good chance I will be back again in September/October/November.

If I don't get home soon, I think I might kill something. If it goes much beyond the 20th, I think I might kill someONE...

Friday, July 3, 2009

Kindred

Jury's still out on the facility. As I've said, it's probably fine from a medical personnel standpoint, but I still don't think she'll get the kind of personalized attention she'd get at Connerton. She had a busy day yesterday, and they totally screwed up the timing of getting her there (we were told she'd leave at 4:00, she actually left around 10 past 5:00). Then, they had to do the intake processing, which was a whole cluster-f*ck complete with balky software and a person new to using the software. We wound up finishing the questions on paper. We wouldn't have gotten home until 1:00 AM if we hadn't. As it was, Dad and I didn't get back to his house until 11:00 PM (we did stop for dinner first).

Plus, Kindred is in central Tampa, near the airport. It is a far way to travel. Took us about 45 minutes and $2.00 in tolls to get there yesterday - one way. Even if a new Ikea opened up nearby where we could distract ourselves for a while, that drive is going to get real old, real fast.

I did buy a Florida SunPass (the equivalent of a California FastPass) to put in the car. It will help speed us through the toll booths, but Chris also says that it gives a little discount at some toll booths. Soon as I get dad's drivers license number and his car's license plate number, I'll set it up and we should be set for tomorrow's visit.

As was her schedule at Bayonet Point, she will continue to have dialysis Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so we won't go today. We'll probably keep the same schedule of seeing her on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays, but will be able to stay for longer than 15 minutes at a time. We'll only be able to stay for 2 or 3 hours tomorrow, but on Sunday, I plan to be there for a longer time so we can observe how she's being treated and to get the rhythm of the facility.

When I called this morning, the nurse said she had a good night, and was resting comfortably. She said that today would be a lot of visits from the various doctors and therapists, doing their assessments. I've also got a list of questions to ask when we're there. So many things to keep track of. I can't imagine her doing it alone, or even just having my dad to help.

Thanks again for everyone who is sending thoughts and emails and posts. It all gives me greater strength to keep going. Big hugs to everyone.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Moving Day

Well, today is the day. At 4:00, Aunt Irene is scheduled to be moved to the Kindred facility in central Tampa. Luckily, my high-school friend Chris will come with us to help us find the place. I still can't believe this is happening. I'm going to call the Connerton lady to see if we can move her after they get their contract in place with WellCare. Anything to make it easier to visit her.