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Thursday morning, I put in a call to the nurses’ station in hopes of getting information about my mother’s condition.  I explained to the woman who answered the phone that I knew nothing about what was going on except for what my mother had told me, which was very little.  The woman assured me that a nurse would call me back “right away.”  No one ever returned my call.

I was able to reach my mother shortly afterwards.  She had just undergone an endoscopic procedure during which a gallstone was removed from the common bile duct.  However, there was another stone in the gallbladder.  For the record, my mother got that information from a nurse.  The doctor who performed the procedure did not bother to drop by to speak to my mother, as is customary.

My sister and I arrived at the hospital to visit our mother Thursday evening around 6:30.  She looked terrible and was very hot to the touch.   She showed us her IV, and something was obviously wrong.  Her hand was bloody, and blood was backing up into the tube.  Her sheets were blood spattered, as well.  Mom said she had buzzed for a nurse an hour ago, but no one had responded.  I immediately marched myself to the nurse’s station, and someone was in the room checking the IV within seconds.

While the nurse was there, my sister and I also mentioned that our mother was feverish.  She hadn’t been given anything since that morning, when her temperature was 99.  An aide came to take her temperature, which had climbed to 102.  We heard the aide relay that information to a nurse, yet, at least half an hour later, nothing had been done.   This time, Michele went to the nurse’s station.  Finally, a nurse came in and gave mom something to reduce the fever.

Michele and I expressed our concern to the nurse about the lack of information available.  She recommended that I have the station secretary call the doctor’s office.  The response came in shortly before visiting hours ended.  We then learned that our mother’s gallbladder was inflamed and swollen.  They wanted to try to get it back to normal size (with antibiotics) so it could be removed via laparoscopy.

We were relieved to have some solid information at last.  On the other hand, we were very concerned about how our mother had been neglected, and did not feel good about leaving her when visiting hours were over.  It is really disturbing (and scary) when someone who is so sick gets so little attention from the people who are supposed to be taking care of her.

Yesterday, I tried to call my mother, but she wasn’t answering the phone.  I got in touch with Michele who said that she spoke to a nurse who told her that mom had a bad night.  After a few attempts to reach mom, Michele was finally able to talk to her.  Mom said she didn’t want any visitors because she was in too much pain, and didn’t feel up to seeing anybody.

At 5:30 pm, Michele called to let me know that she had just heard from the surgeon who had been called in after mom’s second CAT scan.  He told Michele that our mother was in bad shape, and her gallbladder had to come out now.  Michele and I rushed to the hospital.

Mom was taken to the operating room at 7:30.  A little after 9:00, the doctor came out to talk to us.  He said the surgery went well, although he was unable to remove the gall bladder laparoscopically.  As he put it, he had to do it the “old-fashioned way,” which means a longer and more uncomfortable recovery.  It was hard to understand everything he said because of his heavy accent, but I was able to make out the words “gangrene” and “sepsis.”   Thank God this doctor arrived on the scene when he did and took immediate action.

The rules were bent for us, so Michele and I were able to see our mother in the recovery room right after she came out of surgery.  We were encouraged because she looked pretty good, considering what she has been through.

Thank you for all the good thoughts, and please keep them coming.

Song of the Day:  Cuts Like A Knife by Bryan Adams