Whiplash and Emotional Damage

 It's been a minute since we've had a Raising Parents story and shew buddy is this a big one.

Earlier this month we made a trip to the Emergency Department because the f-i-l fell AGAIN.  AGAIN. We have genuinely lost count.  AND he won't tell us if he falls and doesn't have a visible mark that makes us ask. This means the amount of falls taken versus the amount  reported are probably vastly different.

What started this was he did an errand for the brother for unknown reasons, and he lifted something heavy out of the van. He fell onto his face, onto the concrete.

He did not call me and I was home all afternoon.

The brother got home at 4:30 and they got into a verbal altercation over the f-i-l being reckless.  What the brother SHOULD HAVE DONE is taken him directly to the E.D.  Then an hour later, sister gets home to an argument and a mess.  STILL NO TRIP TO THE ED.  

I still don't know that any of this has happened. Nor does Kevin.

Then 15-30 minutes later, Kevin gets home to all of the above.  He went next door, came home about ten minutes later after sending me a text with a photo of the f-i-l.  He just sat down at the kitchen counter, speechless.  He is never speechless.  He looked shell-shocked.

The entire right side of f-i-l's face was swollen and his eye shut. It's bloody scraped and there was a softball sized bruise on his forehead/temple.  It was JARRING to see.

Kevin explained what happened and that they - the whole family - argued.  I said "BUT HE HAS TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT RIGHT NOW"  Kevin exhaustedly asked did I really think so and I had to take a deep breath.  YES, he should have gone three hours ago when he fell and didn't call me. He should have gone two hours ago when the brother got home and a half hour after that when the sister got home  FTLOGAATHFuck.

He's on blood thinners so this is an Emergency (tip: ask your parents if they're on blood thinners. It's very important to know that, btw)  This fall was worse than his mother's initial fall and that fall is what started the whole going-downhill-to-hospice for her.

He said that WE should take him because they care for him 24/7, and that made me have to focus breathe for a second. Then he said they were elbow-deep in food prep for the wedding they agreed to cater. (a whole other story on a different topic)  Fine, whatever.

We race down to the Emergency Department and he is immediately taken back and a Trauma Code is called. Just like with Kevin's mom, but this one was worse because hers wasn't bleeding and was "only" a knot instead of a softball sized bruise.  They did a stat CT, just like on television, then did all the labs, etc.  He was "fine" and no signs of a concussion but not to take his meds to prevent brain bleed, and to follow up with the doctor. 

Oh, and during all of this, he's being flip, downplaying, and doing the one-shoulder shrug because "I'm fine" GAAAAAAAHHHH

We were there for almost four hours, all said and done, on a weeknight nonetheless. When we arrived home, Kevin took him back into the house.  I didn't go inside because I still wanted to shout WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE HIM TO THE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT.

Now we're back to the Waiting for the Bad Thing to Happen. He refuses to use a walker or a cane.  He refuses to stop doing things to avoid falling.  He's done physical therapy and has/had a workout plan at a gym AND he's still falling. We cannot keep him safe and he refuses to try.

But as of that incident, there is a truce next door for now. 

With the siblings, we are a little bit SEE? We told you about this with Mom and you kept saying "She's fine"  Now they're experiencing it first hand so it's their turn. All we can say is "I know, right?"

Oh, and after much debate, it turns out he doesn't want to use a walker because "It's too hard to go pay pills and use a walker."  Which is Old Man Code for "I can't flirt with the ladies if I use a walker."  All.of.the.sighing.

Well, here we are Sunday morning and  Kevin's dad is in the hospital.    He fell at least two times Friday - he initially told me three - and I had to call the ambulance. It was100% self-inflicted. He mowed the siblings yard on the riding lawn mower, got off, bent over to pull weeds and fell.  He said he fell twice outside but now he said he didn't.  He got himself up and into the house.  Where he felt like it was a good idea to TAKE A SHOWER.

Yep, you guessed it.  He fell in the shower.  He again got himself up and mostly dressed then phoned me.  I phoned the ambulance while I was walking over to the house.  He was in his chair and short of breath and confused, then owly.  Because that is my favorite.  

Eleventy paramedics arrived but they went to the parents house first and I had to go get them. So I need to be more specific with 911 next time as it was just habit for the Fire Department and Ambulance to go to their house.

He told them a different story: He only fell twice, he wasn't short of breath, he didn't hit his head, etc.  I walked into the kitchen and mentioned that he was a big fat liar.  They laughed and said that it wasn't unusual in these situations.  I gave them the health history list on my phone (tip: have a notes app with health history on your phone)  and filled in the blanks with what happened, which included shortness of breath, dizziness, and all the things he was saying no to.

They asked him if he ate and he said yes. What did he eat? A banana. In  the morning. It was 2:30 pm.  Had he been drinking water? First he said no, then he said yes "Because they bother me about it." fuuuhhhhhhkkkk.  After this and my stating otherwise, they rephrased the questions or tag-teamed to try and get the real answers.  Finally, they loaded him in the ambulance and took him to the ED.

Now I'm scared, of course, because when I first saw him my reaction was "This is it, this is the end" and I'm pissed because he got owly with me about taking his effing keys with him  AND then lied about what happened.  Like Kevin mentioned: this is the first time that I was completely alone AND in a house I'm not familiar with. (for example: 911 said "Give him aspirin, do you have aspirin?"  I have no idea) 

I met Kevin and the siblings at the hospital and he was in a trauma room but one of the big scary ones.  They did x rays, CAT scans, bloodwork, EKG, checked his pacemaker and all the things.  Then we sat for HOURS without an update. HOURS.  Finally, it took myself and Kevin going Terms of Endearment on them to get an answer. It turns out that they had lost one of the scans.  SIGH.  

He broke his back in one of the falls, L-1 & L-2 vertebra, which is not the tailbone but hurts like the tailbone.  Unrelated and ongoing, he has fluid on his lungs again and his blood pressure was ridiculously high. Oh, and they discovered he probably DID have a concussion from the first fall.  I almost forgot that part amongst all the other issues.

Now it's a full 24 hours later and he was still in  the ED.  They don't have a bed for him in critical care so they're keeping him in a trauma room. No door, just a curtain. No television. Just lay on the bed and think about your choices, old man.  We all took turns visiting but there's nothing to say.  

Oh, and he didn't have his hearing aides in because he was in the shower.  He does the passive agreement thing when he can't hear so he's not answering honestly.  We must have told every single person there multiple times that he can't hear them, to raise their voice & look at him, AND that he will answer incorrectly/lie.  I threated to write "DEAF" in sharpie across his forehead.

They won't treat the fluid fully until he's in critical care so we're hoping that it doesn't go into pneumonia.  Pain management is the only thing they can do with the broken back and so far he's on high dose Oxy then they stepped down to pharmaceutical dose of Tylenol. Because of his blood pressure issues, pain meds are an issue.  He's unable to move on his own, can't get up/roll over/sit up unassisted.  It's a mess.

We had already reached the point that we have to talk to the hospital and the doctors about putting him in a facility. Now we have to insist.  Not only can we not care for him as he needs, we can't trust him to make any sort of a good decision. It's like leaving a preschooler home alone; they know right and wrong but they can't self-regulate.  We will talk to the hospital and his doctors to hopefully facilitate this.

Now he's on the general floor and not CCU as planned. I guess this is good news.  He is assigned a case manager and we're hoping to talk to her today.  But we have obligations here at home so we can't get down there yet.  The siblings also have not gone down to visit him.  Everyone is tired.

But, it also gets worse. I know, how can it get worse, you wonder.

On Wednesday he had a car accident and totaled his van.  He rear-ended a RANGE ROVER at an intersection.  He says that the light turned yellow, she abruptly stopped and he hit her.  I don't know if that's accurate or not.  My instinct is that it's adjacent to accurate. 

The van was impounded and the insurance lady brought him home because he called them INSTEAD OF HIS KIDS.  We sent the insurance agent flowers as a giant thank you. (she didn't know that I lived next door...he didn't tell her)

As far as we know the other driver was uninjured.  However, she was hysterical to the point that they called an ambulance. Because of HIPAA, we won't know if she was indeed injured or under the influence or just having a really bad day. 

That incident had started the Does He Get to Drive Again conversation and now we're thinking it's going to be a moot point.  It will be 90-days healing for his back, of which he will be on pain meds and in no ability to drive. And he doesn't have a car.  

Anyway, back to me, lolsigh: I spent Wednesday afternoon emptying the van of all his belongings and doing the paperwork with the tow company.  Then I had to complete the online claim for the insurance company once I got home and field calls/texts from them on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  

Because, again, as Kevin said: We are the Power of Attorney & medical proxy because there isn't Mom to help with anything at all. Not saying she was much help but at least she was THERE.  And she could report what was happening and legally had a say as a spouse/go-between.  

This part is out of context and from when I wrote to my BFF but I'm using it because it's important to acknowledge the toll of Raising Parents:

I actually had to walk away and lay on the bed in a corpse yoga pose to prevent an anxiety attack writing this.  Suffice it to say, I'm at my limit.  I'm going to go have KFC for dinner that I bought yesterday for dinner as a treat. MYGAWD. I just can't even.

Everyone is at their limit right now and it's a fervent hope that we can have him a facility to recover. This will give everyone a break and if he does return home, then we can maybe have plans in place. But we will also not  be surprised if they say no and send him directly home.  Medicare will only pay for a facility if it is medically necessary.  This country desperately needs socialized medicine, we are a shining example of why.

So, that has been our July.  It is ironically coincidental that it's the exact month and instance that headed Mom toward Hospice.  

UPDATE: just since writing this, there has been a change.  He's been evaluated and deemed too week and unsafe to discharge home.  He will be going to a skilled nursing facility sometime this week.  After which, it appears that we will be exploring options for a place for him to live.  He is no longer safe living at home.  So, that is both heartbreaking and a relief.

Also: he can't drive anymore.  The social worker was APPALLED and also said that it wasn't our decision to make, it is deemed a medical decision.  So even if he were to manage returning home, he would no longer be independent.

We, along with the poor woman he crashed into, may have whiplash and emotional damage.