I’m so stupid for trying to reason with someone taking powerful pain killers. You can’t tell anything is wrong by looking at them-Maybe by the crazy look in their eyes. It’s definitely my fault. I’m obviously too used to our past conversations to let something like hardcore narcotics get in the way. I should never have gotten suckered in by trying to answer an obviously delirious question, “Where’s my cell phone?” Simple question? Don’t be fooled. It’s a slippery slope. Heed my warning: I should have just let it go and walked away.
In recollection, it really doesn’t matter how it started. What’s important now is that I want to put a bullet in own head. Maybe that’s too messy. Maybe I’ll jump out the window. Not high enough. Poison sounds good since I got lot’s of good stuff lying around here. Too slow. Crap. I’m just going to sit here and complain and maybe, just maybe, I’ll hold it together for another night. If I’m lucky, there are few of you out there that can commiserate because of past dealings with a delusional elderly relative or Alzheimer’s patient. I know I have a new appreciation for anyone so sadistic to do this on a regular basis.
“Where’s my cell phone?” The record so far is her asking four times…in six minutes. I explain how the inflated catheter balloon in your bladder makes you feel like peeing about 50 times until I figured out that it’s easier to just unhook the pee bag and show it to her. How many times can I explain the importance of a regular poo schedule while on major medication? About 20 times with the prerequisite dry erase board sketches and another 20 times with just body language and hand gesturing. It goes on and on and on.
The deafness is so much harder to deal with than the dementia. Half the time she can’t read my chicken scratch writing or my understand sentence structure. Simple is definitely better.
So does my frustrated rant sound excessive? I sure hope not because it’s my everyday. There are some days that I just don’t know if I can hold it together.
Our beloved Sandra left a few hours ago. As you can imagine, it was an emotional goodbye on all sides. Satomi’s Mom cried and profusely thanked Sandra for her help.
It’s now 11:15pm and I miss her immensely. At 10:00pm, I gave Satomi a cocktail of medicine similar to last night. It’s not working and Satomi’s restless, tossing, and turning. Luckily she’s not in pain.
I bumped up the Ambien dose to maximum. The Oxycodone and Decadron are already maxed out. If things continue to suck, I can give her another Adavan and as a last resort, Haldol. She’s been so lucid during the day, I don’t want to give it but her and our sanity are at risk here.
Satomi’s Mom didn’t want me to give her the extra dose of Ambien. I had to explain that this was less than usual and what could occur if these were not given. I really hope I can calm Satomi down. I don’t think her Mom can bear the sight of what happens if I don’t.
We’ll just have to wait and see.
Midnight Update: It looks like she’s finally sleeping. Hopefully I don’t jinx it but I hear snoring and she hasn’t moved for nearly 30 minutes. Cross your fingers!!
I just learned a new word that has now become one that I seem to use every day: Perseveration.
It means “repetition of the same verbal response or motor activity regardless of the stimuli or its duration; persistence at a task that prevents the individual from turning his attention to new situations”.
For Satomi, it means the repeated the same questions over and over and over after gettings the same answers over and over and over. It’s the most frustrating thing I could imagine.
It’s driving me nuts!
Sandra Anderson-mother, wife, Physical Therapist, longtime friend, and overall sweetheart-has been with us for the past week. She has been a godsend to us in what easily could have been the worse week of our lives.
Satomi and Sandra were room mates while both attended Physical Therapy school at CSU Long Beach back in the mid-1990’s. Satomi and Sandra become great friends and have kept in touch over the years.
I’ve learned many things since entering hospice care. The most obvious of these is that management of medication for pain is a trial-and-error plan. This is inherently stressful and a mistake is dangerous and life threatening. Sandra’s experiences, memory for details, level head, and uncanny wit made my decision-making palatable.
When I first told Satomi that Sandra was flying out, she had the biggest smile. Now that she’s leaving, we’re all frowning. Sandra went out of her way to help us and we will never be able to thank her. My last week was terrible and I was ready to lose my mind. Sandra made it bearable and actually enjoyable.
We Love You Sandra!
Our plan worked and our Satomi is back with us. It took almost a full day.
We increased her Decadron to address brain swelling and used the Fentanyl patch as the basis of pain control. I did have to supplement it all with a few Tylenol with Codeine tablets but so far so good.
She’s doing so well, it is truly astonishing. So much so that my words won’t do it justive. You have to take your own look.
Just how nuts is it to imagine that this is the same women that was in immense pain only a few days earlier.
Satomi's Cancer Blog 