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Day Twelve Blood Clots



 Day Twelve Blood Clots 

Today was a discouraging day we found a blood clot in her leg and I believe she has them in her lungs. They were unable to send her down to CT because she couldn’t tolerate being bagged instead of the vent. They started her on heparin drip and did ultrasounds of her other extremities. Her vitals were ok, but her oxygen had to be turned up. I have felt down today. I asked my sister several times if she was going to make it through this and she was still optimistic so that gave me some reassurance. When I went to the hospital, I found that Moma did not have Christina, the nurse that we love, we had damn Adrian. NOT A FAN. I walked into the room and Moma was getting the ultrasound done of her arms. The ultrasound girl was persistent I should sit, and I was like no I stand her and hold her hand this just how we do it. After a while of scanning and me trying to figure out what I was looking at on her screen she left. I tried to straighten up Moma in the bed and brush her hair because it was a hot mess. I feel like once again the key part of patient positioning is crucial for airway issues. I tried to fix her pillow and put the head of the bed up. The thing that has me tore the hell up is the trash can. The damn trash can that has been broken this whole time. You have to use your hand to open the lid and shit is always hanging out of the can. Not really a great set up for an “isolation” room. So once I get all the straightening up done I noticed a half empty propofol bottle on her counter just chilling. Just so messy. Apparently they only had two nurses to the unit which is scary in the first place but they wernt too busy to throw stuff like tat in the sharpes bin or keep an eye on Moma. As I stood there and did my nightly cry in hopes a little shed tear drop would heal her, her pump alarm goes off for her sedation med. I stand there for a while then began to pace from side to side of the bed. I look out the door and see him (Adrian) sitting in the same spot. Eventually several minutes pass and hes still not moving. I tell Moma good night and I love her. I take off the isolation mess and head out. I let the door shut behind me, thankfully it never slams it opens both ways so I guess that helps with that. I stand outside the door for a second, even let the door open so he could hear it and he never looks up. I stand with the door shut just to make sure I hear it. I walk up to him and hes playing damn solitaire! I was like my mom needs some more sedation medication its out.... “oh ok”. OMG what you mean oh ok?? Now I know people need a moment throughout the day theyre human, but she is fragile, I'm fragile, she's my mother, and the shift is almost over do that mess later. He gets up and heads in there and I leave feeling some type of way. As I leave I notice the lady next door to Moma has on high flow oxygen thankfully she didn’t get a tube, I hope she continues to improve! I decided to head to the chapel on the way home. I have been in the chapel a few times and it is usually messy. Its tucked away by the bathroom and I guess not used a lot maybe? I walk in and the same vacuum cleaner that was there when we first got here was still chilling in the corner. There was a chair set up like someone had taken a nap and just got up and left everything as is with the blanket and chairs. There was trash all over the floor and food tray on a chair. This tore me up like the trash can. So I went to work cleaning the room up. As I cleaned, I noticed a little prayer request book with Job 42:10 on the front. I wrote a message in there asking for a prayer for my Moma and for the healthcare workers in the hospital. I felt successful after cleaning up then decided to head home. As I walked to the car I passed a RT and RN in the hall that had taken care of Moma in the ED, this had been like 11 days ago and they remembered me, they asked me how Moma was and they said they would pray for her. This warmed my heart. The good ones do make up for the bad ones.   

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