Strange times

So no yard mowing today due to heavy particles of smoke in the air. That put the kabash on the Big Plan for the day. 

I guess if the grass really got out of hand, I'd do what I did in 2008 and again in 2016. Put a hot wire around parts of the yard and let my critters do the mowing.

Instead I picked berries this morning then closed up the house for the A/C to hopefully keep hubby feeling healthier.

Cell phone shots of the berries. 

The top photo is from the top of the ridge and the unripe ones are midway down into the valley. There are micro climates in our woods and I am beginning to understand that certain areas will produce berries in different stages.

Since I couldn't mow due to how wet it was and how bad the air was, I collected some flowers to try 'pressing' and drying. I dyed some Queen Anne's Lace with food coloring and some Fleabane.

Here is my sample of flowers I am pressing between two boards:

There is also Chicory, wild Vervain, Cosmos, Bee Balm, and Marigold. This method is supposed to take about a week or more.
I have to change the paper every few days to draw the moisture out. I used some rocks from my garden as weight for the top board.

Now I have some ideas of trying to put some of the flowers on handmade greeting cards so I will watch some videos of that. Another option is to place the pressed flowers into a picture frame and use it as a decoration?

It all started because I wanted some Queen Anne's Lace to use for some Still Life photos and perhaps dry some for a bouquet in the winter. 

What strange times we live in, when the midday sun is but an orange orb in the sky.

I almost feel like I am living in a science fiction novel.

A secondary smoke plume will then be
transported southward across the state Saturday afternoon into early
Sunday morning. Elevated fine particulate matter (PM2.5)
concentrations are anticipated to result in air quality index (AQI)
values in the UNHEALTHY FOR SENSITIVE GROUPS level over this period.
Sensitive groups include children, elderly people, individuals with
respiratory and cardiac problems, and anyone engaged in strenuous
outdoor activities for a prolonged period of time.

So... I was out doing garden work and dead heading the petunias when something very odd happened. I noticed I had a splotch of brown paint or maybe bug goo on my glasses. It was in sharp focus and moved when I stood up. Totally freaky! 
So I grabbed my glassed off and it was still there.
I brushed my face because, just well, because.
It moved and then swirled. I dropped my crap right then and there and headed to the house. 
Visit to Urgent Care sent me to the ED. After some testing I was given the diagnosis.
Vitreous Hemmorrhage. 
Vitreous is the clear gel in the center of your eye. Mine had blood in it. 
I will see an Ophthalmologist on Monday.
No bending. No lifting. No straining. No exercise. Damn, they should have included NO cooking too.
I get to sleep sitting up.  
I am not in pain but apparently this needs to be figured out and I don't need more blood seeping around in my eye. It sort of looked like this, but brown:

I still see stuff floating about and coming into my visual field. Hmmm. Mmmm.
Strange Times indeed.
Have a great weekend. 

Home home...

I had some conversations with the Respiratory Therapist and his nurse via phone after talking to hubby this morning who was sobbing.
His Respiratory Therapist was concerned but had said that he was holding his own on the treatment he'd been given.

I spoke later with the nurse and we talked about depression and how bad it was. I felt if he was stable all the way around he would be so much better off at home. The longer he was away from home the worse his overall mental health was getting. A sobbing husband doesn't make me feel very good. 

I've been down this road before and have now been able to recognize the direct correlation of desperation and knowing he was 'checking' out. It sounds dramatic, I know, but when really nasty depression hits, this is exactly what comes out of his mouth and he knows he is dying. He may not be dying physically but mentally he is. We too often shy away from talking about mental health care because it is an uncomfortable topic. He is not a nutjob. His brain is damaged in a way we don't understand. 

I pled my case with his nurse. If he was stable, I can still do everything they do...monitor his temp, his blood pressure, and 02 levels. I do that now as a matter of routine. I do his medications, I know him more intimately than any doctor who sees him for 10 minutes.

Fact.
He would do better in familiar surroundings.

Rich told me the nurses were in bubble heads, googles, and full face shields. 

Let's think about that for a moment. Strange rooms, fragile person, [yes he is a tough guy...however he is fragile when he is not feeling well]...strange bubble heads at night in a gloomy room. 

I understand what is happening in our health systems across the country. Over worked healthcare workers. Our little 25 bed hospital is fully loaded. 

So I applaud his nurse for caring enough to hear me out two days in a row and take me seriously. I pointed out that if he was stable enough, he needed to get Mental Health care that they could not offer. He needed to be in a familiar place.

I can do the job of a CNA. I can't do IV's, but I can be there. I can care for him because I do care about him in ways no staff of any place could.

And on Monday morning I can connect with a VA Mental Health provider by phone.

So. The nurse pled my case to the doctor and the doctor visited Rich and said he was medically stable enough to go home. 

He is home! Charlie is relieved, Rich seemed relieved. He is still struggling, but he isn't attached to beepers and being descended upon by Bubble Heads and strangers.

He is mostly in bed, however he has gotten up to eat. I did offer to fix a plate for him to sit in bed and eat. He decided no, he could sit up at the table.
He has suffered a medical insult to his system but I will spare you the diagnosis. 

And now we are under quarantine because he was on the Covid wing.

I now have time to construct the Suck Box. Eddie, my son was the one who had come up with the idea a long time ago. I love it.

Crossed Fingers for the next 14 days.

The Turn of Events Or Two Tests

This is an update to the previous post and I hope to give some folks some hope.

The Rapid Test was Negative.
Rich's classic symptoms screamed Covid. So much so that the doctors felt the test was wrong and asked for another more complicated test. Covid protocol came into effect. Of course now most every hospital I think practices some very strict PPE. 

However they did treat him as an infected person and therefore I was an infected person most likely.

I had to return to the hospital twice for things they needed. The CPAP and then a list of medications. Yeah ... this is why the person who is the CareGiver should be present.

Also they should know how to use the VA's 'Veteran's Health Information Exchange' to look up his meds and current health notes. I will not judge them for these two issues because I know our tiny hospital is over run. So I printed out a copy from his Pharmacy list and took it to them with how he should take the meds. 

The nurse called me later in the afternoon as they are very busy. She said 'We are going to remove the Propranolol from his meds and cut back on another med.'

I said to her that Propranolol was removed by his PCP a year ago because of adverse side effects, it drops his heart rate severely. This too exists in the VHIE [electronic health records].

She said 'Well it was prescribed in the ER.' 

OK. One more reason to have someone who does CareGiving there for the patient. 

Again, not really the nurse's fault, but a fault of the overburdened system right now. They probably thought it was prudent at the time. I told the nurse of my husband's health history. The Cliff Note version. 

I discussed the pain med that they were withholding. It was prescribed for his Major Depressive Disorder or MDD. 

She told me that Rich never could tell her exactly what hurts but everything hurt so bad. I said Bingo! MDD! You have a patient with severe depression and by withholding that med it causes him pain AND withdrawal pain.

See me visually smacking my head with one hand while trying not to get angry.

Test #2 finally came back. He is not Covid-19 positive. But he is a perplexing case. Wonky heart rate -- so much pain, not able to get enough 02, and some other things. 
She remarked that he had asked for a DNR order and it was noted. 

I told her I wanted a clear picture of what was his diagnosis. They get a bit hesitant with that stuff so I told her to look at the HIPPA Consent form under Richard's Living Will paperwork she had on file [in his chart].

I wanted to know if he was stable enough to come home even if he had to stay in bed. Did he need an IV for fluids? Were his lungs clear? 

She made notes. She couldn't give me an answer.

I was polite and professional. The poor woman started her rounds in our little hospital at 7AM. She got her break to call me at 2PM.

Humans are odd creatures. My husband is one such creature. I've been his personal health advocate for 24 years. I even have a degree in Billing and Coding and nearly switched over to Pharmacology. I have a background in commercial and health insurance, billing, and coding. I am very serious about taking care of my husband at a hospital that is really not equipped for what he needs. Again, not their fault. I do believe it is an excellent facility.

It is not staffed with people who understand veterans with Mental Health issues. The best place for him is to be surrounded by vet nurses and veteran staff, but that hospital is full.

My course of action is to hope that a bed opens up for him soon or he becomes stable enough to come home.

The nurse said he was pleasant and she really liked him. 

About 15 minutes later she called me back. She had the pharmacist with her and needed to go over a few things with me. I pulled up my chart and read off the answers for her.

So in conclusion, they are treating him for symptoms that parallel Covid symptoms. But don't have a clear picture of what is going on. His fever is gone.

At first yes Covid, then not Covid, then similar to Covid.

The only good thing to know after all of this ... is that all my extreme precautions have been working. 

Another observation. When I brought his CPAP and later his meds to the hospital, I did wear a mask and tell the person in reception that I came from a home of a suspected Covid-19 patient.
That poor girl's eyes went deer in the headlight white and she went back for gloves and a Bio Hazard bag to put my chart in.

I was a Witching Pariah, or something to that effect.

We are living in a very strange world right now. 

Last but not least I am starting a Suck Box. More on that later.