Alias Nurse Nellie
Nyel’s physical therapist is a lovely woman, although from my agéd vantage point she might be classified more as a ‘sweet young thing.’ So when Nyel had his first session with her the afternoon of his surgery and she asked, “What are your goals for your physical therapy?” we knew we were in a communication vortex.
Our fears were not allayed at all when she asked Nyel to move his newly encased-in-fiberglass leg to the side. “The doctor said ‘No moving. Period.’” But she was not to be deterred. Fortunately, she realized that Nyel was not yet up to her expectations and so she cut the session a little short. I made sure I was at the hospital early yesterday morning when the doctor made his rounds. I was wearing my nicest Nurse Nellie demeanor.
All Too True!
“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “This is really retro-therapy. Like back in the days of traction and pulleys. It’s counter to all the training they are giving these days. I’ll talk to her.”
And talk to her he did. Yesterday Nyel had two sessions, both totally experimental and neither satisfactory to anyone. All efforts were toward moving him from bed to wheelchair and back again – me managing his leg and Nyel concentrating on not moving it or contracting any muscles inadvertently and especially not vertently. And we talked some about how to get him in and out of a car for transport from Vancouver to Oysterville.
The therapist is now suggesting that we get an ambulance for the homeward journey. Which doesn’t answer the question of how to get Nyel to his post-op appointments or even down to Ocean Beach Hospital for his every-other-week blood work. We talked about three months in a rehab facility – like there are a lot of those at the beach! (Read: none.) Plus, the patient does not consider that an option. It is definitely not one of his goals for physical therapy. Or for anything else. Period.
Today is a bright new day. On the job training continues. Did I mention that my back is killing me??? But I’m sure it will all work out in the end a la the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Obviously, it’s not the end yet.
Three months in rehab would be best for both of you…were it available. Can the doctor order in-home care through Harbor Home Health or Assured Health? They have nurses, therapists and bath people who come to your house. Just a thought.
Yes, all that can be (and supposedly has been done) but we are getting messages from the Social Services Dept here like: There are no services available where you live. When we get home, I’ll get into my Nurse Ratched mode and see what can be done. This is ridiculous!
I second Stephanie’s suggestion for Harbor Home Health. They have physical therapists, occupational therapists, nurses to draw blood, people to help with bathing etc. PUSH your MD and the Social Service People! Ed had all of the above several times over his last ten years. And, while an ambulane would probably be nice I suspect Medicare or your insurance would not pay for it and it would be a lot.
When you get home call the local fire department. They will come to your aid and help get him in the house. If you call when you are 50 miles out they will meet you at the house.
We’re working on all the above. I think I’ll have better success when I ‘take over’ once we get home. The Social Services people here have not been too effective in making arrangements, at least so far. Maybe there will be miraculous progress tomorrow a.m. by the time we leave!
Ugh, I wish we were there to help. Neither of us known a thing about nursing but we both have strong backs…
Thanks, Abby. I think strong backs and weak minds are probably necessary components to success in this case!
Since there was little else I could do for you, I cooked my Mothers meatballs and sausage in an Italian red sauce. I will deliver it when you get home along with the nessecary pieces to make for a dinner or two. Sending good thoughts your way.
Yum! Just what the doctor ordered! Thanks so much!