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    Congrats on Square 1 and the challenges!

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      Thank you CaptainCanuck HellYeah TheLibrarian Fremen AnnieW Anek DorothyMH Mianevem PetiteSheWolf Whirly

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        Congratulations!

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          Congrats on square 1 and the challenges! ​​​​​​

          How's your dad doing?

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            Thank you Matan @NancyTree

            NancyTree patient transport just brought my father home again now. (It is 7:50 PM here.) Yesterday his attending told us the pancreatitis had cleared up, but he has a blood clot in his leg now, so is on blood thinners for that. He said he might be able to come home today. My mother asked if he would be done with the IV by then, and the doctor said yes. Today the doc decided he would send my father home today, even though he is not done with the IV. He still has to have it for 5 freaking more days! This is a guy who cannot bathe himself or dress himself or toilet himself or feed himself. And now we are somehow supposed to cope with him having an IV as well.

            Supposedly a nurse is going to be coming to see him every day now. But nobody has talked to us about a schedule for that.
            About half an hour before my father arrived home, a huge freaking box of drugs was delivered to us. Drugs that need to be refrigerated. (Not that we needed that space in our refrigerator for, oh, I don't know... food!) Said drugs are the bags for the IV, which supposedly need to be changed every eight hours. My mother thinks someone is supposed to be coming to show us how to do that. But again: goodness knows when this will happen. Also, presumably the bags need to be hung from something. What exactly, we are meant to be hanging the bags from I have no idea. The hospital sent my father home with the needle for the IV already in his hand. But they didn't send an IV pole with him. They also neglected to send home with him one of his medications which he takes 3 times per day.

            I really, really feel like screaming right now. Everyone expects me to be happy that my father is home "for Christmas". But I am not remotely happy about this. I am an atheist. My father is an atheist. And December 25 doesn't have anything at all to do with the birth of Jesus anyway. (Don't even get me started on the absurd "Christmas is about Christ" and "Keep Christ in Christmas" lawn signs that pop up all over my neighbourhood this time of year.) Since the time I outgrew Santa Claus, December 25 has held no meaning for me other than being a horrible day on which I am expected to participate in a dysfunctional family gathering of people who don't even like one another. I want my father to be well. I do NOT want him home so sick that he really should still be in hospital, with both my mother's and my sleep schedules disrupted because we now have a patient in the house who requires around the clock nursing care and yeah! fun times! we now get to spend every day worrying something will go wrong yet again and he'll just have to go back into the hospital again anyway.

            I really want to scream.
            But there isn't anywhere I can do that without upsetting people.
            So instead I'm going to comfort myself with a little sing-a-long to some songs from my favourite Christmas album (quietly, because my mother is not a fan of Wendell's more colourful lyrics).

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              Oh my, I'm so sorry you are having to deal with all that! I hope the hospital is able to send someone to help out, or at least to show you how to manage the IV. Sending lots of hugs!

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                It is unfortunately too often human nature to trivialize hard times by paying lip service to looking on the bright side. I wouldn't worry about what people say to you in passing, just remember that things get better, they always do, although we might not see it like that at the time.

                It sounds like you and I could have a decent griping session about Christmas and its meaning, though I wouldn't necessarily classify myself as an atheist, more so that I spent a lot of time studying the history of the ancient world.

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                  You can cry in the hive, we are here for you. Wish you all the best and that things will work out good in the end. In the meantime, Feel hugged

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                    Wow, that sounds insane... That's professionals work.. Can't you call the doctor about this?

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                      I feel for you, Rainbow Dragon. There's every reason to be upset indeed.

                      Let's hope you and your mother will be able to make this work somehow, and that the hospital will provide more assistance at least.

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                          That's really rough, Rainbow Dragon ... Though as a believer Christmas is a special time for me, I can understand very well why it is not when you do not believe / are annoyed with the commercial part or the forced family part. Lots of hugs.
                          Now hospitals want to keep people as little as possible, partly to limit risk of nosocomial infection But in and out like your father is a pain. Hugs.

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                            I'm so sorry that you're having to go through this. It's not fair on your father to go home without having proper care in place and not fair on you to not be prepared properly for what he needs. Caring for someone is hard work anyway, I can only imagine the stress when you add specialist medical care to that too. I really hope that everything can be sorted and that your father will be able to stay out of hospital with proper support in place. Hugs to you all

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                              Oh my! I am sorry you and your family are going through all this right now! That is terrible to toss him back home to family that should not have to worry about all the ends and outs of his IV care. Wishing you luck and sending hugs and vibes to you, take care RD

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                                Thank you Whirly CaptainCanuck TheLibrarian NancyTree Redline Fremen PetiteSheWolf Zastria Trbrat75 I appreciate very much your support.

                                When still no one had arrived to show us what to do with the IV by 10PM last night, my mother called back to the hospital. They gave her the number for home care which she called, but got a voicemail system that said they were closed for the day, leave a message and someone would call her back the next day. My mother called the hospital again. Got some other number to call. More voicemail shenanigans ensued. Finally, my mother reached an actual human who informed her that, when a patient is requested to be added to home care, they don't just go on it automatically. They have to wait until there is room for them on the schedule. And room had not yet been found for my father.



                                My mother told them that was a bit of a problem since her husband had already been discharged from the hospital and was here, at home, now.
                                The person from home care assured her they would get him added to the service as quickly as possible, but that they don't have any nurses who work after 9PM anyway.




                                Again my mother had to explain to the person that her husband was at home, with a needle stuck in his hand that was supposed to be attached to a bag of drugs, said bag of drugs consisting of an antibiotic cocktail necessary to treat an active and potentially life-threatening infection that he really could not just stop taking in the middle of the course of treatment, but that the drugs were at that point in time not attached to the needle in his hand on account of the fact that nobody here had the first clue regarding how to set up the delivery system.

                                Finally, the person on the other end of the phone agreed to attempt to do something about this situation. An available nurse was found and arrived here ~ 11:30 PM. My mother said it was 1:15 before she left. (Thankfully, my dogs, who sleep with me, only bark when visitors arrive at our house. They don't bother about people leaving. So I was only disturbed upon the nurse's arrival.) But my father is home. (He's not happy because, with everything that needed to be done this morning for his wound care and the IV procedure, his PSW did not have time to get him dressed and transferred into his wheelchair. So he has to spend the day in bed.) He is receiving his antibiotics. My mother is driving back to the hospital (which is in another town) now to retrieve the drugs the hospital neglected to send home with my father when they discharged him. And I will be contacting Service Ontario to find out what we need to do to replace my father's health card--which the hospital lost--in the middle of a pandemic which has meant that our local Service Ontario office is closed. (Hopefully this is something I can take care of online. Service Ontario has been facilitating some services online this year which normally one would need to apply for in person. I don't know yet if replacing a lost health card is one of them.)

                                Fun times. But we are all still breathing.

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