KISS Principle; If you can't be kind or helpful, STFU. I've tried the more polite phrasing of "If you can't be kind, begone" but a handful of people don't seem to understand the gentler phrasing.
I am falling apart because I never get better news. It's always something bad. I am spending half my time crying, and the other half an emotional wreck. Dysfunctional family is not much help. Apparently my crying upsets them and the staff.
So, unless you have a sadistic streak that takes some kind of pleasure in making someone who's already going through hell (for the second time; I lost my first husband to an undiagnosed heart problem), spare me you arrogant lectures on how I should be feeling and how much better you would handle--because you won't know how you'd handle till you're in the situation. And when you are getting half-truths from staff who seem to take it as a personal affront that you are asking them the same question two or three times, because they gave an answer that was geared to a ten year old and have made some doozies of mistakes so far--you would be angry too. I've been verring from a desire to scream at the staff and sobbing out of sheer terror all day.
And if you feel this isn't political enough for you, feel free not to read---and definitely do not post because I am well past being nice and you won't like what I say to you.
SIMPLE: If you can't be kind, begone. If you feel that you are so much better than I, don't sprain you shoulder patting yourself on the back--and sure as hell don't share your ignorant opinion with me, because I don't need any more stress or bullshit right now.
I woke up at 8 am. I think I got at most 5 hours sleep. I kept waking up, which likely means the night terrors are in full force. I don't remember the dreams (I never do when it's night terrors), but I woke up every couple of hours.
SInce I was up that early, I called Faye and told her I needed to get to the hospital today. I didn't tell her I had a really, really bad feeling about it. When we got there, Ben was upbeat (they put him on Zoloft and I want him off as soon as possible because the side effects are dreadful) because he thought he'd be going home today.
Our hopes were dashed. Very badly dashed and I am frankly thinking LAWSUIT because some of the stuff I am finally hearing indicates a level of incompetence that to me is just unbelievable. He is still on oxygen. His oxygen saturation isn't good enough to go home. Her boss and the cardiologist were fine discharging him, but the O2 levels when he walks go way down. So she decided he might have a blood clot in his luings, which apparently the oh-so-brilliant top 5 cardio hospitals in the country completely missed comp;etely.
I am the edn of my rope. I got very aggressive with the PA. I asked her why, when I asked the nurse about Deep Vein Thrombosis, said it was DVT, just a small superficial clot, othing to worry about. Nicole the PA said all clots are DVT, w=hich the AMerican Heart Association website (and several others that were not designed for civilians but for medical people) say is not true.
So they did a CAT scan, and NOW he had DVT behind his knee and a clot in his lung.
WHY THE FRIGGIN' HELL did they not do that CAT Scan when they discovered the one in his knee AND they knew he was having real problems breathing (turns out it was pneumonia which nobody bothered to tell us)? This sounds to me like GROSS incompetence. If there is a step beyond gross incompetence.
I was very aggressive in my questioning of Nicole, and MiL was mortified by aggressiveness and stopped out, leaving me unsure if she was leaving me there. I embarrassed her because I wanted to know the damned truth and was willing to have a knock-down dragout fight to get the facts. Because what I have gotten so far is at best half truths. And I am not passive aggressive. I WILL go to them at to learn the complete whole truth (which goes over with Nicole like a lead balloon and makes Ben unhappy with me). But so far they have made what seemed to me to have made so many mistakes which could have cost him his life, that I honestly have lost all faith in ANYONE at that hospital.ANd I wish I were ip North where family is respected and they actually the time to tell you the truth and generally don't make errors like not checking for a second clot in the lungs when his breathing isn't improving.
I'd also be thrilled to have nurses who speak something resembling the English language. His nurse today had a Southern accent so thick as to be unintelligible--and I can understand broad Yorkshire, thick Glaswegian, and very heavy Northern Irish brogues (reviews on Netflix always whine that they can't understand Irish accents)
I finally called Ben to get the info (since calling the damned nurses seems to be utterly useless), and heard about the blood clot. I have been crying non-stop and I no longer have any faith in this hospital or its staff. They've either been too incompetent to answer or they give me half truths. I don't trust any of them. I told him in tears that I am so damned lonely and I don't even get a hug from his family--and he said I should ask for one. I don't think I am being passive aggressive when I told him that if his mother isn't willing to hug me without my having to ask for one, that hug is worthless. It's just another passive aggressive piece of her bullshit.I am pissed enough at all of this that I couldn't call her to tell her about the blood clot. I called Amy. Amy advised sweet-talking the staff, the good old southern way. I told her I am incapable of pretending to be nice and that I am a Yankee and Irish and we speak the truth, and that I can't do it because my true feelings show on my face. I asked her to tell her mother because I really just couldn't do it.
I have never felt this terrified or lonely in my life. He isn't getting better. And if they didn't have the minimal competence to put together "Hmm, one blood clot and days after surgery still having major issues breathing. Maybe he MIGHT have clot in his lungs and we check for that. " And maybe do something. Nope they let it go 4 days. To me that feels like medical practice.
Unfortunately the only way I can get up there is via Faye. And right now I am reaching the point of just finding her annoying , but beginning to move into flatout "I am never speaking to her again". She'll likely have to drive him to appointments. I don't feel I can be in the same car with her without either crying or screaming at there.
And how the hell; can you sit in a car with someone who is sobbing (albeit silently ) the whole 40 minute trip home and not notice or say anything kind or comforting. I guess in her eyes I am too mean to the staff to deserve any comfort. Any kindness beyond the merely physical. And I am writing this AFTER taking a Valium/ I have been crying non-stop. And I am scared to my bones that he's gonna die (and Faye was happy when I told the PA that I am the one to be called in an emergency).