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My husband is back in the hospital. Sunday he had symptoms of a kidney stone: pain, quite a bit of bleeding with his urine, and fever but he did not tell me the extent of it. After speaking on the phone to an "on=call" doctor we decided UCLA would be a good place to go in case they needed to try to explode a stone. He is not a canidate for surgery. In fact, when we had been to his primary doctor he did not even mention the pain to her. It happened to be a wellness check plus we spoke mostly about him wanting to die and then asking her for a pill to do so. Funny, even with all this going on he wanted to wait till the next day when he had an appointment with his cardiologist whom he likes and respects. Fortunately, the “on-call” doctor notified his primary one and she insisted he go right to UCLA to avoid getting Sepsis again.
He never even told me how intense the pain was (a 9), I learned about that in emergency. Apparently, if there was a stone, he passed it and was left with a bladder infection that probably went into the kidneys. As of this afternoon, he is clear of blood, and eating so will probably be getting out in a couple of days.
As of last night, I got some sleep so I'm feeling better plus very encouraged that he is now eating.
Shockingly UCLA is letting me go in and spend the day with him. In fact, they don't kick me out at night so I probably could have spent the night but by 10 pm last night, when he was yelling at me and swearing I decided to go home. He wanted me to put the C-pap on him (I had already switched the oxygen to feed into it) he wouldn't let me take off the little nasal canula. I guess he thought somehow he could put both in his nose. I left crying. Today was better. He only got angry at me once.
I do see he is more confused than when he went into Henry Mayo Hospital nearly two weeks ago.
The idea of him "suffering" before that when he decided to die and wrote the goodby notes to our daughter and me, was that he didn't want to bother having to use the oxygen part of the day. Actually maybe he needed it and maybe he didn't. Yes, he needed it at night but that wasn't any more of an inconvience than wearing his C-pap because it just feeds into it. Almost every time I checked his oxygen saturation during the day it was around 96. I can't be sure of what it was before he put the oxygen on but he is not supposed to use it if his satuatration is up to 90. Whenever I would mention that he would get furious with me. Excess oxygen is not good for anyone. Also, he would put on his C-pap (actually Bi-pap) during the day while he is awake.
Frankly, it reminds me of a young stud that gets what he wants (sex) from his girlfriend and then when she wants to get married, he says bye bye because he doesn't want to be bothered. Maybe that's crass of me to say, but many years ago I would say to myself that if I were laying bleeding in the street, he wouldn't be the one I would call. I better call someone else to come help me. I could tell lots of stories, but my old resentments would just be stirred up.
@Abby202 he wasn't physically suffering before 2 weeks ago if that is what you meant. He doesn't have cancer or anything like that. Two weeks ago he was out on the roof and on a tall ladder trimming the wisteria off our arbor and pergolla. Our daughter has stage 4 cancer. She suffers some. He doesn't want to be bothered to use oxygen for his COPD. I have catered to him and spoiled him for 59 years. But he wants to be macho and seem like a god. Yes, he is not as strong, but frankly, it seems like one more betrayal. It's not "worth it" to him to stick around and be a support to his daughter. I have fractures in my lower back I was born with that never healed. As I get older, 79 this month, I am weaker so I hurt more when I cook, clean up afterwards, sew, iron, do gardening, and clean house. I have no household help. The "only" thing he does inside the house is vacumn, but we mostly have wood floors that I wash on my hands and knees. Okay, sometimes I push a rag or paper towels around with my foot. He has been retired for 22 years but has never in his life dusted or washed a dish. When we moved into this house he bought me a used push mower. On Sunday, just getting ready for church, by the time I shower and get ready, and get to the car I would like to cry from the pain.
We have 2 broken sprinklers. If he would just advise and supervise me, I could do the work. I wish he would train me to operate the sprinkler controler, or maybe even just that part you would turn if you didn't have a controller. Maybe it's partly the Covid 19, that we can't go out to dinner or the movies. Maybe it's partly that we have no friends, but he didn't want any. Maybe it's partly his old fishing buddy from years ago died. Maybe it's partly he doesn't want to go to church or know anyone. He used to belong to the Elks and went and played poker with the guys. That's over. He was a wonderful dancer and moved like Gene Kelley. That's over.
Covid 19 is still here and it looks like it will be here for a long time. It appears we are headed to a financial depression eventually. He doesn't want to grow vegatables. A year ago he built a retaining wall with railroad ties, and moved them by himself with leverage. Plus like the Egyptians he moved them on rollers, having me put pipes under them to roll on, then i would put the pipes forward. Neighbors offered to help, but no, he had to strain my back and his. He is totally macho....and selfish.
Yes, after 59 years, I "expect" him to do what he can, not abandon me, out of convenience. Yes, I am terrified of physical pain so if he were in physical pain I could understand. There is so much we "could" do. Make friends, go on a drive, sit in our backyard and watch the squirrels chase each other, eat together, Bar-B-Que, talk. In our home, he has not sat at the table with me to eat in 25 years, maybe 40 years. He only sits on the couch and waits for me to serve him. He watches Fox News or wrestling about 95% of the time. I won't watch wrestling. If I am eating somewhere else, he calls me to come get him some water, or parmesean cheese, or whatever. I was and am stupid to get myself into this. I was way too co-dependent. But here I am, and I intend to finish my course with as much honor, cheerfulness, and kindness as I can muster. My father betrayed me, my sister betrayed me. The Lord helps me.
I am crushed by him, once again. But I'm old and can't live too much longer. I get to go to Heaven and live all eternity there since I have accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. Many, many people have it far, far worse. I have a roof over my head and plenty to eat. We in America live like kings compared to much of the world. I live grateful for what I have. I think we all need to be grateful. These may turn out to be the "good old days."
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