I am not a doctor. I am providing information based on experiences that my mom has with natural remedies. The purpose of this blog is to help folks to educate themselves. Use this information with your own discernment.

20 May 2011

Multiple Lacerations

 Yesterday was one of those days that I didn't think could get any worse... but it did.

My mom had a doctor appointment; I picked her up after lunch from the day program.  She was having depth perception and balance issues, picking at something in the air with hallucinations making frequent appearances.

Like getting a cat into a cat carrier to take to the vet, my mom planted her feet spread out her arms and screamed at the top of her lungs..."NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Standing at the door to the office building, my mom was in a full blown panic. I didn't know what to do so I started talking.

"Ma, I promise you, I will take you home... we are just seeing your doctor.  It's a routine visit.  Come on.  Please, Ma.  I'm begging you.  I promise you, I will take you home with me."  I reassured her in the calmest voice that I could muster out of my mouth.

Mom walked through the door... sort of.  I guided her, locking my arm under hers as I reassured her that she was coming home with me.

Fighting me all the way, my mom was difficult to move.  My pleading didn't really help much.  We got to the doctor's office door and she wouldn't go in.  She kept mumbling something and then saying, "Oh, no... you aren't getting me in there."

The doctor visit was uneventful; he agrees that it's time for my mom to go to a home.

Leaving the doctor's office, my mom now didn't want to walk out the door.  She had fixated on a door in the doctor's office, she wanted to know what was in there but I wouldn't let her open the door.  I guided her to the exit.  My mom was unhappy and mad.

In the parking lot, she wouldn't walk.  She planted her feet.  I told her that we were going to the truck so that we could go home and see Belkis, her Care Attendant.  She didn't believe me.  I moved her along, getting her out of the way of traffic.  My mom got madder and started to scream..."YOU ARE GOING TO BE ARRESTED!  Don't touch me!" 

By now, we had people looking at us and I was expecting the police to show up.  Hurriedly, I got my mom in the truck and drove away.  Driving for several miles, I found myself looking in the rearview mirror for blue flashing lights of a police cruiser.

My mom was OK when she got home.  She had poor balance and wouldn't sit still.  She kept jumping up and bending over to pick up an imaginary item.  My mom fell again.  I left her for 1 minute and BANG!... down on the floor.

Finally, with Mom tucked into bed, I headed downstairs to have a glass of wine and some sushi.  I left the sushi in the garage refrigerator earlier in the day; it was a special treat dinner for Brian and me.  The garage was dimly lit by the dusky sky. I didn't turn on the light. 

Walking toward the fridge, I tripped on something and flew through the air.  I put my right hand out to break my fall.  As luck would have it, there was a broken bottle on the floor of the garage.  The base of the bottle, with it's jagged edges was in the right place to slice my hand open.

"Oh no!!!!!!  Brian!  I gashed my hand!"  I exclaimed as I rushed into our room.

Blood gushed out of my hand.  Two slices.  It was gross.  I freaked.  I worried about my mom.  She hadn't had a bowel movement in two days and was due to have one any minute.  After not going for 2 days, her bowels are usually explosive... SHIT!  How was I going to go to the hospital for stitches?  I began spinning out and started to cry.  I was panicking.

"It will be OK Sweetie.  Rachel will stay with Jo.  It will be OK."  My husband comforted me with his steady confidence.

Rachel left in charge to listen for my mom waking up, Brian rushed me to the ER.

Thank God it was a slow night; the hospital was able to take me right away.  One hour and 4 stitches later, we were heading back home to have that sushi and the glass of wine that I had poured before I cut my hand open. 

The doctor told me that alcohol would slow down the healing process and recommended that I not drink wine (alcohol.)  I got home and drank the glass of wine, screw it!

My mom never woke up.  She slept through the night.  Sometime during the night she even woke up and used the toilet unassisted.  I love it when poo makes it in the bowl... it did.

Mom was alert this morning and having a good day.  I didn't have to help her out of bed like I have had to do days previous to today.  She was steady on her feet.  She remembered how to use a spoon.  She ate with out any coaching.  She had a massive dump that landed in the toilet, just before her ride arrived.

Not sure how I'm going to cook food or clean up after my mom, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.  Thinking about it is very worrisome.

Looking back at yesterday, it wasn't all that bad.  We were in and out of the hospital within an hour, my mom never woke up, Rachel proved to be a fabulous Mom-sitter and I was able to eat sushi with chop sticks, washing it down with a nice glass of Pinot Noir.


  1. Sue, I sure hope your hand heals quickly! Sorry you had such a bad day. Hope you have a better day today. Be sure and put on a latex glove before doing any cleaning if you can tolerate it on your cut hand! That might be a solution to keep the germs out.

  2. Thanks Karen. I did try to put on a latex glove this morning. It was too painful to squeeze on. However, I do have food gloves that are bigger and easier to slide on... these appear to be working well.

    I too hope this wound heals quickly.

  3. OMG! I hope this heals quickly!!! You are in my prayers as always...

  4. Thanks, Missy... your prayers are always appreciated!

    The wound must be God's way of telling me to slow down. Without the use of my dominant hand, I feel as helpless as my mother.