I was able to stay home last Thursday for the team meeting for Dad's discharge plan. They called me on the conference phone from the meeting room, and I was able to listen and contribute. There was a social worker and an occupational therapist there, along with Dad and Phyllis. The physical therapist had gone home sick earlier, but had left notes. The head nurse came by later.
It was determined that Dad met the "baseline" requirements with PT and OT. The nurse came by with notes from the doctor, who wanted to keep Dad in until Monday morning to monitor him a little longer while he was on the 2nd heavy duty diuretic, but the social worker explained that it may not be possible to keep him in longer because of the insurance coverage. Apparently, the initial discharge was scheduled for Friday, and that was okayed by his insurance company, but in order to extend his stay there, the doctor from rehab had to have a conversation on the phone with the doctor from the insurance company, and though they had a call out to the insurance company doctor, she admitted that their was a strong chance that that connection may not ever get made. Stupid American health care red tape bullshit.
Dad was really tired of being in rehab and dying to get back home to his little apartment and his computer and his life, but feeling worried about leaving at the same time. By Friday night, however, it was decided that he would be discharged on Saturday afternoon, after all. Phyllis was feeling a little under the weather and fighting off a cold, so I agreed to drive up in the afternoon and help Dad move back home. Rehab required a family member to discharge him anyway.
Don and I had played at The Cage on Friday night, so we got home about 2 in the morning. I got as much sleep as I could, and got on the road a little after 1 in the afternoon on Saturday, arriving at Bodwell a little before 3 in the afternoon. Dad was sitting in the chair in his rehab room, dressed, but nothing had been packed. They provided a bunch of plastic bags, so I packed up his clothes, bathrobe, pillow, scale, slippers, shirts, underwear, toiletries, a book and the paperwork. He put on his jacket and shoes, and I handed him the lightest of bags, and off we went. After saying goodbye to one of the nurses, we made a slow walk towards the elevator, then on the first floor, another long, slow walk towards the exit. We got to the pathway that leads from the rehab to the first floor of his apartment building. It was probably about 250 feet, and on a slight incline. It was warmer than it has been lately, but their was a brisk wind. Half way up the path, Dad needed to stop and rest. We finally got to the door, and walked the long hallway towards the elevators. Before we got on the elevator, we sat and rested on a couch for a few minutes.
Finally, on the third floor, we slowly walked the long hallway to his apartment door. Dad was relieved to be home. He rested on the couch for a while, then went to his desk and turned on his computer. While he checked his bank records and 2 weeks worth of emails, I put away his things and started a shopping list.
After about an hour, I went out the back stairs to his car that is parked behind the building, and Dad walked by himself to the elevator and met me in his car at the front doors. I drove us to the Hannaford, and dropped him off at the front door. I parked the car and Dad went into the ATM and the pharmacy to pick up pills. There was a long line at the pharmacy, and it took him the entire length of time that it took me to run around the big store and pick up his things and some stuff for me to eat, to finally get his prescription. I had received a call from Nat while I was running around, so I quickly filled him in on the afternoon. Dad was really agitated by the wait at the pharmacy as I slowly walked with him to the exit of the busy store. I had him sit on a bench outside while I brought the bags of groceries to the car and picked him up.
Back at the apartment, I dropped him off at the front door again (so he could avoid walking the stairs and take the elevator), and I drove around back to park his car. By the time I got back to his apartment with the groceries, he was already back seated at his computer. We started talking about dinner, when I realized I forgot to pick him up some deli meat. I'll go back! I said, before he could panic, and he added bananas (make sure they're ripe!) to the list. I put my coat back on and grabbed my purse and back down the long hall to the elevator and I went, opting to take my car which was parked in the front guest parking lot.
I received a text from Clarissa, and I told her I was on my way out for the second time to Hannaford. I picked up his things, then got back to his apartment within half an hour. He was still sitting at his computer, deleting emails. After a little while, we put together our dinners and ate our meals on trays in front of the television.
We retired around 9:30, me camped out on the sofa cushions in front of the television. I got up around 7, while Dad rose about a half an hour later. We had coffee, and I got dressed, and I made a couple of trips down to my car with my bags and a couple of really heavy, pressure treated 4x4 boards that had been leaning up against his bedroom wall. They were there to prop up a little single bed he had before he went out and bought himself a new queen sized bed, and they really didn't need to be there anymore.
I waited around while he had some cereal and then took a shower. He had been asked by a friend who lives in the complex to join him and a few others at the weekly Sunday brunch in the dining room. Once he was dressed and ready to go, I said goodbye and got back on the road to Denmark a little after 11:30.
I got home about 2:30, and I filled Don in on the last 48 hours. When I called Dad later that evening, he seemed to be okay. He had received a call from the home health nurse, who would be making her first visit Monday morning.
Tuesday morning, Dad had an appointment with his primary care doctor. Fortunately for me, Phyllis was feeling well enough to pick him up and go to the appointment with him, saving me a trip up to Brunswick. She called me from the office and put me on speaker, so I was able to listen in on the doctor and ask a few questions. It was enlightening, and we learned that the crisis seems to have been stemmed from his thyroid going haywire, causing an overflow of fluid from the leak in his atrial valve in his heart, causing the scary shortness of breath, as well as sparking the infections in his gall bladder and eye. He has an appointment lined up with a cardiologist in early April, and in the meantime, his condition will be managed with the diuretics, the thyroid medication and a low-salt diet. The doctor told him to stop taking the 2nd heavy duty diuretic, as Dad's weight has gotten really low.
He's still feeling tired and having trouble sleeping, but it's much better for him to be at home in his own bed then at the hospital or rehab. Tomorrow morning, Thursday, he's got the home health nurse coming by again, and he hopes to be able to go down and catch the last few minutes of his writing group on the first floor. He's been having his lunch delivered to his room the last few days, but they deliver it really early, so he's thinking tomorrow he'll go down to the dining hall and have lunch there.
He just wants to get back to having the same amount of energy that he had before. Me, too!
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