"Well, thank the gods my mother's immune system is still kicking in...
...that's all I have to say!" That's what I told our Hospice RN when he called, much later in the afternoon, today, after I had talked to him this morning about the possibility of pneumonia.
    When Mom awoke, today, although she was her usual drowsy, not-ready-for-prime-time self, she looked better, sounded better and felt better by several tens of percents than she did yesterday. The swelling in her feet hadn't completely disappeared but it's obvious it's on it's way out and her feet are no longer white (they were blanching, but just barely), but pink. Her blood glucose had dropped from last night by 50 points. Her speech was fine. She was coughing and stuffy, as has been usual over the last week, but her eyes were bright, the whites were clear, her skin was peachy and she wasn't gasping for breath from having sat up in bed. If you've been following Life After Death Sentencing you know that movement has been very occasional and very iffy for several days. Today she not only walked into the bathroom, she insisted on walking into the dinette, as well, and into the living room after breakfast. She was a little slow but not at all unsure of herself. When she rose from the bed her leg muscles enlisted so much force that she nearly fell against me (I always spot her by locking my forearms with hers when she rises from anywhere).
    All this occurred before our Hospice RN called back. When I spoke to him this morning he listed two options, telling me he favored the first:

1. Wait to decide on treatment for absolute evidence of infection, i.e., coughing up yellow or green sputum, definite fever, etc.
2. Treat prophylactically. [I've got to remember that word...the one I use instead of "prophylactic" is "preemptive". I suppose a case could be made for my word, but it's not the favored word for Hospice. I'm not sure why I stick with it; maybe because of its connection to war and my sense that infections are "fought".]

    I told him that, at that time, my choice was selection #2, for the reasons (in the immediately previous post) that I cited and, as well, because when Mom had pneumonia in the hospital, one of the reasons they didn't diagnose it right away was that she was not coughing at all, let alone coughing up sputum, and she never ran a fever. I continued that I probably wouldn't have called on this episode except for the speech problem appearing late last night, which had been a "classic" symptom for my mother in her two previous bouts with pneumonia.
    Even so, I added, I understood his position and would bow to the doctor's preference. At this point, I continued, I had no problem waiting because if her condition deteriorated, Hospice was only a phone call away and it would probably happen soon.
    Then my mother awoke and appears to be on the mend. Thus, when our Hospice RN called back this afternoon, I reported the good news and asked what the doctor had said (she'd been in favor of waiting).
    I'm sure my mother has been battling some sort of infection, probably for about a week. Chances are, it was viral, not bacterial, thus antibiotics wouldn't have helped, anyway. I believe she probably had her crisis battle yesterday, which is why she felt so bad and all her symptoms were displaying their full colors. And, she won. Good for her.
    A lesson I'm taking from this episode: She is capable of displaying exactly the same symptoms when fighting a virus as she does when fighting bacteria. This is a good thing to know. It also makes diagnosing her health events a bit more iffy, since she could, conceivably, have a dangerous crisis due to a viral infection and I, at least, wouldn't be able to tell the difference between that and an episode of pneumonia. The only aspect of her last bout of pneumonia, really, that convinced me it really was pneumonia is that the antibiotics began healing her within 12 hours. And, of course, a viral infection lays a very inviting stage for the entrance of pneumonia.
    But, we're good, right now. I'm curious to see what her blood glucose will be this evening, of course. This will tell me where she is in her reversal. But, even if its high, I'm optimistic that she's on the mend.
    As usual, her appetite rarely lagged. When it did, a Bedside Evening took place and, often, eating a mere piece of toast prompted her appetite to demand "a little something else".
    She's napping, now. Well, you know, what else would she be doing? I can hear her breathing through the monitor. It's even and unfettered. I've checked in on her a couple of times. She's relaxed and snugged well down in her covers. The Little Girl was sleeping with her, earlier, but left to sleep out here behind me. That's a good sign. The Little Girl's sleep habits are an excellent barometer of how Mom is feeling. If she sleeps elsewhere, I can be sure she's not worried about The Mom.
    Tonight, neither am I.
    Later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 19:37   email  this post