Confessions of a Crazy Woman

As some of you may know, I shattered my shoulder requiring a replacement and then ended up in the hospital due to a diabetic foot ulcer - it had gotten worse and was positive for MRSA infection.  To clear that up you must get IV antibiotics.  Admitted to the hospital on June 23, 2009 and transferred out June 30th to a Rehab Center (which us also a Nursing Home).

I arrived at the Rehab/Nursing Home on June 30th at about 6:00 pm.  The were told I was a vegetarian as I heard the nurse tell them so.  Roasted chicken was waiting for me that night.  I sent it back and got a peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat.  They took the bandage off my foot and rebandaged it.  BTW I had raging diarrhea from all the antibiotics.  Wednesday I asked if my bathroom, especially the toilet, could be cleaned.  That night I asked about a shower and was told that my "shower days" were Wednesday and Saturday but they would try to handle it Thursday morning.  Thursday morning asked again about getting bathroom cleaned.  Thursday evening I finally cleaned it myself - also told Thursday afternoon they couldn't get arounnd to my shower - I guessed I would have to wait until Saturday!

Diabetic neuropathy can leave you without feeling in your feet so severe that I walked around a few years ago for 3 days with two bones broken in my foot and had a minor procedure where they cut into my toe without the use of any anesthesia including novocaine.

Thursday evening when they got around to changing the bandage on my foot, they had evidently put the bandage on way too tight.  Of course I didn't feel anything wrong becaused I can't feel my foot.  There was a 3 inch long raised red welt (I guess a pressure sore) running from the bottom of my big toe.  There was another raised red welt running across my second toe and best of all a humongous blood blister down the right side of my foot.  I had fallen asleep and woke to see the rehab's doctor - he was telling the nurse to wrap it loosely.  I don't know if he would have even talked with me if I hadn't awakened.  I asked him what was going on and he said they were pressure sores and then told me the pulse in that foot was very weak = almost feeble.  Then he left.  By the time I processed this latest information and asked the aide to have the doctor come back in he was gone - left!  Out of the building.

So, here is what I was thinking (all by myself in insolation) - my foot looks 100% worse than when I came in, I could not make long distance calls to any family member (they live in Maryland and it is considered local long distance and the call won't go through), I had always been told the my circulation was good and that I had strong pulses in my feet and now they were "feeble", and remembered all the horror stories of nursing home abuses.  Oh, I forgot, they called the podiatrist who admitted me to the  hospital and he told them to wrap is lightly.  When the nurse came in to give me my night medicines I refused.  At around 10:50 pm I rang for the nurse.  An aide came in and I told him I needed the nurse to unbandage my foot and check it.  She didn't show up.  I rang again, the aide came in again and I again told him to get the nurse.  I rang a third time and when a new aide came in I went through the whole thing again.  She went out.  Someone came into the room and I thought she was the nurse but she was another aide checking on supplies in my room!  I asked her to ask the nurse to come in.  She left to obsentively to get the nurse.  I guess the nurse was pissed that I refused my night meds and wasn't coming to look at my foot.  What to do - no one to call outside the rehab center, for all I knew my foot could fall off.  What to do, what to do - aha - I called 911

When they arrived I saw the nursing supervisor come in my room.  I swear she looked very much like Nurse Rachett from "one Flew Over the Cokoo's Nest."

This is taking so long that I have decided to post some at a time over the course of time - like a serial!

No, I'm home.  However, there is more!

Here's Part 2:

BTW, Wednesday night they brought up pasta with marinara sauce - only it was meat sauce.  Had another peanut butter sandwich.

Thursday night I refused my dinner along with my meds so I don't know what "vegetarian" meal they had planned.

As we left off last time, Nurse Rachett along with the ambulance personnel were in my room.  Nurse Rachett begins with a lecture about diabetics being slow healers until I told her I wasn't stupid - that wasn't the point - my foot had huge pressure sores/blood blisters that were NOT there when I checked in.  The ambulance personnel chirped in with the same lecture and said they could take me to the ER and ER did not admit me to the hospital, they would have to bring me back to the rehab center.  I told them that was not an option.  I am positive they all thought I was a crazy old lady with dementia!

They loaded me up, took me to the ER who x-rayed my foot and ran some lab work.  All was normal - I asked the ER doc what she thought it was and she said it looked like cellulitis and I should ask my doctors how I could get develop a new infection given the antibiotics I was taking.  She had me admitted to the hospital.  Ha Ha Ha

So I spent Thursday night in the ER and then waiting for a bed.  By the time I got into my room it was 7:00 Friday morning.

And finally ...

I went to bed Friday night; then got up to go to the bathroom, got caught up in bed covers and fell hitting my head.  Boy, you never saw so many people come running.  Because I was in isolation for the MRSA infection, everybody had to don paper gowns, latex gloves and face masks before coming into the room - good thing I didn't stop breathing.  So, there I was, sitting on the floor repeating over and over again that I needed to go to the bathroom (remember the raging diarrhea).  Thereafter, they placed a port-a-potty next to my bed, placed an alarm on the bed to ring at the nurses' station if I got out of bed without calling for assistance.

My podiatrist came in on Sunday, July 4th and looked at my foot.  He said two spots were pressure sores and a blood blister and nothing, but nothing should touch my foot because if the blister popped before new skin had a chance to form it was the makings of another ulcer!  This was the same doctor who told the rehab to wrap it loosely!

A case manager came to see me on Monday in response to my request to have someone come in a counsel with me.   She told me the doctor my PCP's colleague was discharging me and I would have to go back to rehab.  We argued, she said I had no choice.  She was very calm like she was talking to someone who was demented.  When the doctor came in to check on me she asked me why I was crying and I told her.  Her response was she was not discharging me and the nurse said there was no discharge orders in  my chart.  Monday late afternoon a psychiatrist stopped in (by this time I am sure the staff thought I was a raging lunatic and called for a psychiatric consult.  He was a pleasant, common sense kind of guy.  He said I might have over-reacted by calling 911 but agreed the nurse probably didn't come in because I refused the medicine.  He said it even has a name - displaced aggression.  He also said if the rehab would take me back I should go - it was one of the best in the area.  I agreed.   The hospital sent up the case manager administrator who asked me what went on there and then called the rehab administrator to let her know. 

 Again, it was a Tuesday night when I was transferred back to rehab.  After that I enjoyed the place.  I had excellent nurses who changed the bandage on my foot twice a day, great physical therapists.  The only complaint was the food and keeping a diabetic vegetarian diet.  Apparently, vegetarian means either a  chef salad with a ton of cheese, no meat and about 6 hard boiled eggs cut into strips or a fruit salad.  They either sent up too many carbs or not enough, sometimes no protein - I lost 25 pounds in there!  I know the kitchen was glad to see me go - I was sending food back at almost every meal.  Thank God I made friends with one of the few male aides who went to the staff kitchen and whipped up food for me.  He also brought in his little Bichon dog to visit with me.  That dog laid right down on the bed beside me and proceeded to go right to sleep.

I can laugh about it now ... at the time, not so much!

When I did go back to rehab I watched my foot like a hawk asking when are you going to change my bandage, please plump the pillow under my feet so my heels are not touching anything, where is my IV antibiotic.  I chatted up the nurses, asking a million questions - in otherwords, not playing victim.

Thanks for all your support.

Yesterday I got a phone call from one of my nurses in Rehab urging me to come by a visit.  That was so nice and sweet of them to remember me.

Last night I went from a mild tickle in my throat to a full blown cold (throat so sore can hardly swallow and nose so congested can't breath) in a matter of hours.  Just as my foot ulcer is slowly healing and my shoulder is getting better.  I saw a bumper sticker that said "Don't Worry About Your Health ... you're going to lose it" that speaks volumes to me!

Thanks for the commisseration Dotti.  Some folks might think it was trivial but I was actually afraid I would lose my foot.  Adding more complications to an already complicated case was more than I could stand so I fully understand how you were feeling.  I am so sorry you were ever in that situation.  My God, to be in pain, unable to move and feeling so helpless.  Hugs to you and may we never find ourselves in that situation again.  Hope you heal up nicely with no further complications.