Darkness
Grandpa went into the hospital on July 2, 2019. He had been in the hospital the year before, we had been told at that time to "make him comfortable" but sure enough, he persevered, came out of the hospital and went home and began to live dependently. I thought this would be the same.
Following the calls, I went to his Care Facility. I got there just in time to be in the room while the doctor was checking him over.
"He has an infection." The Doctor said. "Has he told you what he wants to do? He's M2."
"I've tried to change that, he said that if he fell sick, he wants to go to the Hospital." I explained. "But, let me ask him, it's his choice."
"M2" is what people opt for when they do not want to get resuscitated, they don't want dialysis and they don't want any blood transfusions. It means that if he gets sick in the care home, they make him comfortable and treat as much as they can, but the Facility has it's limits. They can't give intravenous drugs, so if you need something more than an oral medication or you have a more complicated illness, they are not equipped to help.
Early this year, Grandpa and I had chatted about this. I told him that the Facility faculty had told me that he was M2. So, I explained to him that if he got sick, they would treat him as best they could but wouldn't transport him. I gave him scenarios.
"So, if you got pneumonia, they wouldn't take you to the hospital." I say, "If you got sick like that, would you want to go?"
Grandpa says, "Yes, I would want to go."
At this point, I think there's value in having him speak to the Facility staff himself so that they understand he's his own boss and I'm just the helper, so I say, "Ok, the next time the Doctor sees you, tell him that you want to go to the hospital if you get sick."
He tells me in a later visit, that he tried to talk to the Doctor about it, I know that I emailed the care staff and yet, the current file and conversation with the Doctor isn't reflecting our series of conversations earlier in the year and perhaps, had I not been here during the check up, the Doctor may have decided treat him as M2.
I go over to the bed where Grandpa was laying, in pain, warm with a fever but cold with the chills.
"Grandpa, you have an infection. Do you want to go to the hospital?" I ask.
"Yes, I want to go." He tells me. He's completely coherent, and responsive, just very uncomfortable and in pain.
"We'll call the Paramedics." The Doctor tells me.
We get to Burnaby General Hospital. They'll full. They don't have any beds in the Emergency Room when we arrive. We're in a room, there's paramedics standing around with their patients, waiting to give the nurses their story (This is what Ryan calls it when they tell the nurses what they've brought someone in for). Once the story is told, they put us in the hallway. We wait. Ryan helps the attending Paramedics transfer him and he bustles around with an air of familiarity. He buys us coffee. I tell him to leave, as I expect we'll be awhile.
They finally put us in the Emergency Room. We wait for three more hours. By the time I leave, we've been there for six hours. They want to keep him the night.
When I go back the next day, he's still in the Emergency Room. They tell me they want to keep him a few more nights. They're still waiting on test results. They find him a room, just before I leave. He's still very much himself, albeit, bored out of his mind. He can barely hear and he can't see, so he's left with his thoughts. It's been this way since he's lost his sight. We got him a radio, and he listened to the news several times a day. When he moved to the Facility, Granpda insisted on a specific size of TV with SMART technology, that didn't exist, so he didn't listen to TV anymore.
The Hosptial gets him a room in the Acute Geriatric Care Unit. There, he and other sick elderly people are taken care of by nurses and doctors who specialize in geriatric care. I think about how I should have taken him here when he started having issues back in January 2018, but had trusted that the doctors in Hope were as good as any. Turns out, maybe not the case. What caused Grandpa to lose his sight is actually a semi common phenomena among people his age. The first doctor I was present for during our numerous visits in Hope told him that he just pulled some muscles in his neck during a vomiting fit when he had the flu the previous month, gave him some pain meds and sent us on our way. He didn't pay much attention to grandpa's complaints of the shadows and fading sight. He lost sight in his first eye on his 92nd birthday and 6 weeks later, was completely blind. By the time the fifth doctor saw him, they suggested the right course of treatment, but it was too late. He was already in the dark. When I think about how he lost his sight due to something completely treatable, I'm overwhelmed with sadness. Those are thoughts I entertain on a rare occasion or something I think about when I need the energy of anger to fuel me. It's easier to be mad, then it is to be sad.
Perhaps I'm in the anger phase of my grief right now and I imagine I'll visit it a few more times, but I can't help but think about how I feel like the System failed my Grandpa to some degree. There are platitudes floating around out there about how he's lived a long and good life and it was time for him to go. Maybe it was, but there's something very cruel in the way his last 18 months were spent in the dark. There were many times, as I saw the state of his Home Care, the state of his lacking personal care, and the state of the Facility he lived in, that was glad for the darkness. It saved him from seeing what I saw.
Following the calls, I went to his Care Facility. I got there just in time to be in the room while the doctor was checking him over.
"He has an infection." The Doctor said. "Has he told you what he wants to do? He's M2."
"I've tried to change that, he said that if he fell sick, he wants to go to the Hospital." I explained. "But, let me ask him, it's his choice."
"M2" is what people opt for when they do not want to get resuscitated, they don't want dialysis and they don't want any blood transfusions. It means that if he gets sick in the care home, they make him comfortable and treat as much as they can, but the Facility has it's limits. They can't give intravenous drugs, so if you need something more than an oral medication or you have a more complicated illness, they are not equipped to help.
Early this year, Grandpa and I had chatted about this. I told him that the Facility faculty had told me that he was M2. So, I explained to him that if he got sick, they would treat him as best they could but wouldn't transport him. I gave him scenarios.
"So, if you got pneumonia, they wouldn't take you to the hospital." I say, "If you got sick like that, would you want to go?"
Grandpa says, "Yes, I would want to go."
At this point, I think there's value in having him speak to the Facility staff himself so that they understand he's his own boss and I'm just the helper, so I say, "Ok, the next time the Doctor sees you, tell him that you want to go to the hospital if you get sick."
He tells me in a later visit, that he tried to talk to the Doctor about it, I know that I emailed the care staff and yet, the current file and conversation with the Doctor isn't reflecting our series of conversations earlier in the year and perhaps, had I not been here during the check up, the Doctor may have decided treat him as M2.
I go over to the bed where Grandpa was laying, in pain, warm with a fever but cold with the chills.
"Grandpa, you have an infection. Do you want to go to the hospital?" I ask.
"Yes, I want to go." He tells me. He's completely coherent, and responsive, just very uncomfortable and in pain.
"We'll call the Paramedics." The Doctor tells me.
We get to Burnaby General Hospital. They'll full. They don't have any beds in the Emergency Room when we arrive. We're in a room, there's paramedics standing around with their patients, waiting to give the nurses their story (This is what Ryan calls it when they tell the nurses what they've brought someone in for). Once the story is told, they put us in the hallway. We wait. Ryan helps the attending Paramedics transfer him and he bustles around with an air of familiarity. He buys us coffee. I tell him to leave, as I expect we'll be awhile.
They finally put us in the Emergency Room. We wait for three more hours. By the time I leave, we've been there for six hours. They want to keep him the night.
When I go back the next day, he's still in the Emergency Room. They tell me they want to keep him a few more nights. They're still waiting on test results. They find him a room, just before I leave. He's still very much himself, albeit, bored out of his mind. He can barely hear and he can't see, so he's left with his thoughts. It's been this way since he's lost his sight. We got him a radio, and he listened to the news several times a day. When he moved to the Facility, Granpda insisted on a specific size of TV with SMART technology, that didn't exist, so he didn't listen to TV anymore.
 |
| 2 weeks after he lost his sight in one eye. |
The Hosptial gets him a room in the Acute Geriatric Care Unit. There, he and other sick elderly people are taken care of by nurses and doctors who specialize in geriatric care. I think about how I should have taken him here when he started having issues back in January 2018, but had trusted that the doctors in Hope were as good as any. Turns out, maybe not the case. What caused Grandpa to lose his sight is actually a semi common phenomena among people his age. The first doctor I was present for during our numerous visits in Hope told him that he just pulled some muscles in his neck during a vomiting fit when he had the flu the previous month, gave him some pain meds and sent us on our way. He didn't pay much attention to grandpa's complaints of the shadows and fading sight. He lost sight in his first eye on his 92nd birthday and 6 weeks later, was completely blind. By the time the fifth doctor saw him, they suggested the right course of treatment, but it was too late. He was already in the dark. When I think about how he lost his sight due to something completely treatable, I'm overwhelmed with sadness. Those are thoughts I entertain on a rare occasion or something I think about when I need the energy of anger to fuel me. It's easier to be mad, then it is to be sad.
Perhaps I'm in the anger phase of my grief right now and I imagine I'll visit it a few more times, but I can't help but think about how I feel like the System failed my Grandpa to some degree. There are platitudes floating around out there about how he's lived a long and good life and it was time for him to go. Maybe it was, but there's something very cruel in the way his last 18 months were spent in the dark. There were many times, as I saw the state of his Home Care, the state of his lacking personal care, and the state of the Facility he lived in, that was glad for the darkness. It saved him from seeing what I saw.
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