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TISMF the editor

I just turned on the TV news on channel 4 and I saw PXX BXXXXX and it made me remember how lovely she was to everybody around her when that priest got killed by the janitor who was a pedophile in _______.

shark

Today is the 50th anniversary of me getting bit by a shark. I know the story is in here somewhere, I tell it often enough, but I wish I had someone to share it with. You know? I'm talking about the experience. Like someone who also got bit by the shark who bit me on that day or something. Or my mom. Though I am sure she would rather forget about it. I mean, she never talked about it, so I assume she pretty much forgot that she took a nap while her 8 year old went off to play in the ocean alone.... and then... you know. chomp chomp.

Anyways, I never did ask her some questions about what went down afterwards. Because people talk, and the talk around the pool area was that the towel guy saw the school of sharks when he was setting up before the hotel guests came down for the day and he checked again when people started to show up and he thought the coast was clear (pun intended) but the sharks did not leave, oh no they did not, they had merely moved just off to the side, which is where I decided to go swimming that day. No one checked just off to the side.

Questions I would ask today: Up until that vacation we actually stayed in my Dad's apartment that was a bit down the street from the hotel but after I got bit we stayed in the hotel for our vacations. Was that a payoff? Or was it just easier for my folks because we were getting older and you can leave kids in the hotel rooms alone easier than in an apartment down the street. At least you could in the 70's when this event occurred and parental involvement was at an all time low. To be honest, I would have preferred a little trust fund for my troubles of almost being drowned by a shark and getting my leg sliced down to the bone, but whatever. It didn't happen, no one asked me what I thought would be fair. Hahaha

Anyways, to celebrate/commemorate I am going to buy myself a little shark necklace as soon as I hit publish on this post and then I am going to wear my shark necklace for a while. Maybe for the whole year. That way wherever I am whenever the conversation lags I can lift up my necklace charm and say HEY, DID YOU KNOW THAT I AM CELEBRATING THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF GETTING BIT BY A SHARK. LOOK AT MY NECKLACE.

Do I feel like I need something more interesting to say other than I am the full time care taker to my sick and dying husband. Yes I do! Does it get more interesting than being bit by a shark, and surviving (basically unscathed- I have a barely noticeable scar) 50 years ago? Probably, but that is what I have got so I am gonna roll with it.

King of the bounce back

I do not even know where to begin on the past month- since it was a month ago when my internal panic alarm started to sound off every time I glanced in the direction of the husband. It was the day before Thanksgiving when I first heard the soft shrill siren sounding. I thought Please just let him get through Thanksgiving intact. 

I am shockingly without too many words. I could scroll back and see if I sent any interesting texts buuuuut..... what I think I might have touched on today is that it is not everything in the middle that brings the impact to this story but really more like a description of two hours after got to the ER versus two weeks later, the day I brought him home,  2 hours after he left the hospital.

Two hours after I brought him into the ER two residents burst into the room and asked him if had a DNR.

Two hours after I brought him home he was hanging out in his favorite recliner, rubbing his belly full of a fresh turkey sandwich, some grapes, sipping a diet soda and watching some television.

 

Here is the DNR story: ( I typed it out even though I am pretty sure it was posted in a TISMF post. I'm just being lazy and not checking. Also I love to hear myself talk. ) He did not want to make that DNR decision and kept deferring to me, and despite my attempts to alert the head resident to the fact that my demented husband is not capable of understanding the seriousness of his situation, they kept pestering him to give his own answer, so I had to step in and speak to him that way one would speak to someone with memory problems and go through the meaning of a DNR and how no one can not predict if he would be the same when revived or in really bad condition. He still wouldn't choose and insisting ASK MY WIFE  so I explained how I felt, and which decision I would make, and he nodded in approval so I made that choice for him and then (I COULD HAVE PASSED OUT WHEN I REALIZED THERE WAS MORE TO COME)  the resident asked him if he was having trouble breathing would he agree to be intubated and he waved that off saying something like, sure, you help me breathe for a few days and then I walk away fine indicating that he 000 ZERO 000  grasp of any single thread of medical knowledge what so ever, (which I have known since the first time I ever said I AM NAUSEOUS and he offered to go out and buy me some milk) So, I signaled to the resident that I would make the same choice if he needed to be intubated. She finally seemed to understand that not only does my husband not understand the seriousness of his condition but he doesn't understand much of anything. It's really sad. 

 

Coming home: I will not pretend that I was actively working to keep complete panic at bay for 24 hours before he got out. Some bitch ass hospitalist came in and said she could discharge him on the spot indicating that somehow I was .. questioning her judgement? Trying to undermine her authority by discussing his situation with the resident? I have no idea how this nasty ass doctor got the stick up her ass that day, but it wasn't from me. I have replayed every word I said and I was nothing but sugar and spice, like I always am with medical professionals who I want to care about him so they can provide their best service because they're human too and I try so hard to be nice! And then there was this bitch who came in and bitched herself all over the room for 5 full minutes, including the threat., to which I calmly responded that I would prefer he stay the night so that I could do a series of errands on the way home since he would require round the clock care once I manage to get him home.

Cue: huge smile under mask so that she can see your smiling eyes sparkling. 

Oh wait, I just realized while typing this out that 2 days prior I had told her I was concerned about his ability to even walk since he had not received PT since the third day he was hospitalized and she said I was wrong, and then she checked and I was correct. Was that anger inspired by her embarrassment? BWAH HA HA HA HA  Be less secure! OH MY GAWD. 

But, the truth is that I was sick with worry about being able to get him from the car into the house. I was even thinking through if there was a potential of a chance I'd be able to carry him over my shoulders. Maybe when I used to go to the posh club, but not 12 years of no lifting later, I was making all sorts of plans. I had chairs and wheelchairs strategically located to assist. But in the end, he wasn't that weak and he did manage to get in and truth be told now that they have taken 20 pounds of fluid out of him he is doing better than he was in the few weeks before I brought him in when he was really struggling.

King of the bounce back.

TISMF wound care edition

Oh
My
God

Went to wound care- and I shared how crazy it drove me for the two weeks that he was hospitalized that I had no idea what was happening underneath his bandages and how when I got him home on Wednesday I immediately changed the bandages because the one thing that I did know was that somehow the hospital is pretty disconnected from the wound care even though they’re not only part of the hospital but in the same building. It looked good to me, but I didn’t want to try too hard to remove what I wasn’t sure of. Was I looking at a scab? Some dried up iodine? I wasn’t sure.

Guess what they said!

They used the word

HEALED.

I almost fell over right then and there. Maybe I thought I’d never hear that word in regards to this wound. I dunno. I was so shocked it was hard to hear anything else after that.

The foot specialist said: “Wow, looks good. This is basically HEALED.”

HEALED

Not me turning away from the two doctors and the two nurses in the room so no one could see me ugly cry.

Twice.

Because HOLY HELL.

That wound’s reign of terror over me is over!!!!

Do you realize how long I’ve been bandaging that wound and commanding it (Yes, out loud. HEAL, YOU BITCH) to heal?? Since September of 2022. That would be 16 loooong freaking months ago.

I only cried twice in the car driving back. Apparently, that bitch wound was weighing on me much more than I had realized. I am feeling victorious and relieved.

They said they’d still need to “monitor” it, so we have a return appointment in three weeks and I still have to wipe it down with iodine every other day and keep it bandaged because it still has a tiny little way to go, but I’m totally taking this victory. They said HEALED and that is now my word of the day.

TISMF Shook

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I forgot to tell you this. In the car driving home from the hospital he turns to me and he … from the bottom of his heart … sincerely thanks me for dedicating my life to taking care of him. Did I pass out behind the wheel and drive off the road? NO, now there’s the miracle right there, no, correction: two miracles in one day.

I might still be in shock. Maybe I dreamed it.

TISMF

So I am strangely aware that the 50th anniversary of me getting bit by a shark is coming up on December 26. Did I ever share with you that when I was a kid I tried to figure out what I had done to cause this shark to bite me and almost drown me. Like most other kids I just thought that the whole world is an action/reaction kind of thing and I wondered for a long time … Did God want me to celebrate Christmas? (I decided that wasn’t it)

TISMF PLEASE MASK

Oh my God. I just had the best phone call with Josh. It was really nice and calm and relaxed and I’m so happy now.

The latest with the husband is that he is definitely having congestive heart failure and they are still concerned about his enlarged lymph nodes and the spots on his lungs that do not appear pneumonia related. But the priority right now is to relieve the fluid congestion in his lungs and abdomen and then see what everything looks like. They don’t think they can do a biopsy on the lymph nodes because they’re too deep inside him and it would be too invasive… So that’s what the doctor said… but I believe that sometimes when it’s futile they might give you a fake excuse. So I’m kind of anxious.

They finally gave him some food today and hopefully he’ll be able to get them a stool sample that he doesn’t contaminate with urine soon so they can culture that. (Witnessing two nurses in there with him attempting that was really the highlight of my visit today. NOT) We won’t know if there is any bacterial infection in his blood for another day or two but they don’t think there is so they lifted the “everyone has to wear a mask and a yellow gown in this room” mandate and I said “UH….no… I would like people to continue masking around he who would not survive covid” and I made his nurse write PLEASE MASK WITH THIS PATIENT on a piece of paper with magic marker and tape it on the wall next to his door.

I was worried that they weren’t paying attention to the wound on his foot that I’ve been trying to heal for the past year and a half and on my way down to the garage when I was leaving I got into the elevator with one of the wound care nurses who asked about him and I told her that he was in for congestive heart failure but that no one had changed his bandage today and she said “I’ll make a phone call” so YAY!

I have no idea how long he’s gonna be in there for but I do know that he will be there through the weekend.

I made myself a nice dinner- fish, sweet potato and cabbage. Just finished eating.

I am really enjoying the ability to relax and not have to be listening for someone down the hall every second while I’m in the house. It feels completely different.