I am the official “owner” and operator of one little old lady, once again. She came back yesterday afternoon after HOURS of John and me waiting around at the hospital. They were trying to discharge 7 patients at once and it was, I’m assuming, a complex process. Or so they would have me believe.
At one point she looked at me and said, “Krissa… What would happen to us if we just went ahead and left?”
Don’t think I wasn’t already thinking about doing it.
Right about that time they finally got her all fixed up with wheels to the car and we made a break for it exited the premises.
You have never met anyone as bitchy as she has become since she got home. Well, actually, that’s not entirely true. It started before she got home. While she was still in there she commenced to tell me how I should be changing her diaper differently and I need to do it like the nurses do it there and every time she asked me to raise her up in bed she tried to die when I actually moved her. Keep in mind that I laid the bed out completely flat and grabbed the hospital chux and slid her upward as slowly as I could. She is no longer the light weight she used to be and I can’t just suspend animation anymore. She seems to think everything should be in slow mo and I can’t just stop midway between the wheelchair and bed while holding her. Or move any slower than I already am. I certainly am gentle and I don’t just toss her around.
Before she came home I received a call from a lady in charge of her case at the hospital and she said, “Ms. Lopez, it says here on her chart that you are interested in a hospital bed for her at home.”
Noooo… I’m not interested in one…
“Oh, well they must have just stuck this note in the wrong file.”
My wheels were turning at this point and I was remembering the two times she asked me if we needed one while she was in there. I just shrugged and said, no, I didn’t see why, but she insisted it would be easier for ME if we had one. Translation: She is pitiful and wants all the hospital equipment she can get around her.
We have been through this before. Years ago when she was on hospice. It was an enormous monstrosity that left very little room to move in her bedroom. Well, comparatively.
Here is her room with a twin bed. That bizarre looking thing with all the thousands of photos stuck on with ten pounds of scotch tape is her rolling cart of tricks. It’s on wheels so I can move it out of the way to change her and get her in and out and what not. It has shelves inside with all her accoutrements.
It’s an ancient, cheap, laminate, microwave cart. And if something ever happened to it… well, we would all perish, I am sure.
The hospital bed we had ate up the walls when “sliding” the head of the bed up and down. And since she sleeps in a fairly upright position the only thing we would need it to do is sit up some. I can accomplish this with pillows. AND a comfortable mattress, not a hospital one.
Bottom line, we’re getting another damn hospital bed delivered here this afternoon.
5 comments
Comment by Candy on February 11, 2009 at 3:49 pm
Easy to see who wears the pants in this house! LOL…sorry!!!
Candy’s last blog post..In Which I Speak Proudly of the Fruit of my Loins (and Wonder if Women Have Loins)
Comment by Ree on February 11, 2009 at 9:01 pm
Candy, that’s who wears the diapers in the family! As bad as a child. 😉
Ree’s last blog post..Shirt and Shoes Required
Comment by Mr. Corvette on February 12, 2009 at 12:55 pm
You lost me between, “No, we don’t need a hospital bed” and “a hospital bed is being delivered tomorrow.” From the posts above, it seems that H may have won in her desire to get the best for you.
My mother spent most of her time in a hospital bed for a number of years and we found that raising the head of the bed so she could sit up was a pain in the ass (for the care-giver, not for her) Instead of the flat part of the bed and the raised head forming a definite angle, the transition was more of a curve resulting in her sliding down and having to be repositioned almost constantly since she was not strong enough to scoot herself back to a sitting position.
I always knew you were an angel, but now I can see your halo from 600 miles away.
Comment by big hair envy on February 12, 2009 at 4:28 pm
I can only hope that there will be some actual benefits for YOU once the monstrosity is delivered. Perhaps you should find her a large African-American male nurse to operate the new machinery…
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Comment by witchypoo on February 13, 2009 at 6:27 pm
Henrietta is SO the boss of you.
witchypoo’s last blog post..Grace The Fifth
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