The C Word – The Weather of Our Lives

Back East (well, in many places) there is a saying, “If you don’t like the weather, just wait awhile.  It will change.”

That’s sort of true in our lives as well.  If you don’t like what’s going on, just wait awhile.  It will change.

But, just like the weather, the change isn’t always what we want it to be.  And so we wait again – and again – ever hopeful that the winds will turn course and get on the right path again.

I feel like that is us right now.  We keep waiting for the journey to make a turn and find a place of peace.  Sometimes we think it’s right there on the horizon.  And then another storm hits and sets us off course again.

It was just last Sunday when I blogged about our/my new normal. George was home and on IV nutrition and I was trying to adjust to all the changes that came with that.  I was doing pretty good as I streamlined a bit during the week. 

On Thursday we had an appointment with Dr. Bastidas and after that George wanted to go to his bi-weekly support group at Cancer CAREPoint.  Our appointment with Dr. B was fairly quick, in part because we wanted to get to the meeting and we were running behind schedule.  George was feeling okay – not great, but okay.  He’d been saying all week that he just didn’t feel so great. 

He went to his support group and I sat in the lobby in the event he couldn’t make it through the whole thing.  It was our first outing since coming out of the hospital and George had not left the house (or the hospital) in over two weeks.  By the time the meeting was over, he came out and said he was feeling really bad.  We got to the car and I vented his Gtube to see if that would alleviate his nausea.  We keep a “barf bag” in our cars and I got that out as well.  I had one stop to make on the way home and the whole time George was dry heaving. 

He wanted pain medication as soon as we walked through the door – and I have to clamp his tube in order for him to properly digest that.  I unclamped as soon as I could as he was still not doing well.  This went on all afternoon.  By about 6:30 I decided it was time to head to the ER as pain and nausea meds were not working at all.

Thus, 6 days after discharge we were back in the ER.  There wasn’t a full lobby when we arrived so I thought that was a good sign.  What I didn’t know, is that there were people in beds in the ER waiting for rooms to open up. It took 18 hours before a bed for George opened up.

The tests showed he had elevated potassium and pancreatitis.  They took him off the TPN and started to push a lot of fluids to bring those numbers down.  I took a break at 2:30 AM after he had been officially “admitted” but had been told it would be past 9AM before a room would become available.  I had a fitful sleep and at 6:30 got up and ready to go back to the hospital, bringing what George would need for a few days stay. 

Keith came to give me a break for a few hours so I could go play with a pressure washer at Sara’s as well as do some bush trimming.  That was such a good break – to be outside and making things look so much better.

When I got back to the ER, we knew he would be transferred to a room soon – and at 2:30 it finally happened!  We ended up in the North Tower in the surgical post op rooms where we have spent PLENTY of time before.  Big rooms.  Private.  With a pull out bed.

George and I promptly fell asleep – he in bed and me in the large chair with pillows and a blanket.  I got up at 5:30 and headed home for a few hours to sit, relax, gather my belongings, etc.  When I returned, he was still sleeping and hasn’t felt like chatting at all.  I hooked up his CPAP and settled him in bed and me in my bed where I write this.

My guess is he will be here for at least three days, probably more.  The TPN he was on caused the pancreatitis and high potassium levels… so now we have to figure out what the new formula should be. 

More changes – more adaptations – more complications.  This is his fifth (?) hospitalization since December 8^th – and does not include at least 3 visits to Dr. Bastidas to fix things in regards to his fistula/abscess drain.    

It seems like the wind keeps blowing and changing direction – but we never are quite able to get ourselves on track.  At least not the track we would like.  I’m not sure how much more of this George can handle as each direction makes him more tired than the last, more vulnerable, and more emotionally distressed.  Each direction has me scrambling to adapt and change my course of action, trying to keep pace and attempt to stay one step ahead, trying to figure out what the next step might be.   

I keep praying for the strength to keep moving forward, the courage to speak truth to him, to prepare him for the days ahead. 

Which way will the wind blow tomorrow and the day or week after that. Moment by moment, breath by breath.  Constant shifts – until the day when the wind dies down and peace is found.