Medical Facilities and Alzheimer's

Why is there not more understanding or allowance for Alzheimer’s patients (and those with similar maladies) at hospitals and other medical facilities? With the increase of Alzheimer’s on the rise surely this whole situation will be forced to change. This issue presented itself to me during Susan’s recent stay at the hospital.

My first impression of Susan's ward was an impatient nurse screeching at an elderly woman who (how dare she) was too old or forgetful to make this nurse’s job easy. Witnessing that set off alarm bells in my better thinking: would anyone be patient with Susan? Would she be treated as this other precious lady were being treated? I feared so. The next night I listened to this same nurse throw irritating comments my way about how Susan was up all night getting out of bed and securing the hospital doors and windows and how this particular nurse was forced to set up camp directly outside of Susan’s room door to keep an eye on her. (Snicker-Snicker)

Okay, so I admit that I didn’t have a lot of sympathy although I certainly understood where she was coming from. After all, I have practically spent the past year watching and guarding and herding Susan into the right places and activities at all the right times, regardless of what I would rather have been doing or often needed to be getting done. So yes, I understood her dilemma, but did she understand Susan’s? Susan was not her only patient just as she is not the only person in my life. But Susan has Alzheimer’s and the nurse should have training.

Next, came the dreaded annoyance of things Susan didn’t understand, like: tubes, machines, hook-ups and needles. She spent hours complaining about them and pulling at such things as heart monitors, intravenous lines and oxygen tubes until eventually she had loosened off and unhooked anything she could. No matter how hard I (or hospital staff) tried to explain their importance, Susan only cared that she didn’t want them hooked up to her self. Needless to say, she finally had every last one of them where she wanted them- out of her business!

Susan sat snugly pleased while alarms sounded and staff came to check to see what she had done -this time. Amazingly enough, all of this was done while she wore a posey (a restraining vest that keeps her from getting out of bed). Without the posey she would have likely been lost in the hospital somewhere or perhaps even in the parking lot looking for her car. So what is a hospital to do? And what are Alzheimer’s folks to do?

There is inevitably a moment in each hospital stay when Susan's antics climax. It is the moment I have come to expect, but will never stop dreading. Last time, it was the night she ripped her intravenous lines out of her arm and broke her security bed all in the same night. Kiara and I arrived early the next morning only to discovered blood all over Susan’s gown as she sat poseyed in a chair while a repair man worked frantically on her bed.

We learned of her antics this time by a nighttime phone call placed by the on duty nurse at Susan’s ward. She calmly asked us to return her call, stated that things were fine but she just wanted to update us. Trust me, we know that code and can read between the lines. Jeff called her back as soon as we heard the message and learned the latest. This time Susan had gotten hold of a pair of scissors and cut her catheter!

The day before this “cutting loose,” I had spent the day with her in the hospital room while she drove me away because of her obsession with getting that “stupid shit thing” out of her. After all, the doctor had not ordered it (no matter what I said). It didn’t belong and she didn’t need it. Actually they had ordered it in the emergency room the first night and left it in because they didn’t want her getting up and risking another fall.

Well, after the call that night from the nurse, who admitted that they had all been shaken up when they discovered what she had done, I noticed that a catheter no longer burdened Susan. Either the staff didn’t want to risk what might happen if they reinserted the dreaded catheter or Susan’s ‘discontinuance’ of its use had made that decision for them. Whatever the case- Susan got her way- no more catheters for her.

Sadly, when it was time for Susan to be released and the doctor felt that she needed a short stay in a rehab unit to build walking strength, nobody would accept her. No facilities to handle walkers? No rehab for extreme Alzheimer’s patients? I hope that none of these precious human beings are ever in accidents since everyone is afraid of them and afraid of lawsuits regarding them. One facility that was brave enough to evaluate her said there are strict laws against restraints’. We certainly would have a lawsuit if we restrained her at home as well, but we manage. And now she is home again, weak, limping and one foot dragging. No rehab for Susan- she has Alzheimer’s.