Round and Round We Go
Ever notice that there are so many amusement park ride analogies that are so appropriate for caregivers? The big difference being that the rides are not at all amusing in this context.
Years ago our local park had a ride called the Rotor. It was a round, padded room. You entered, found a spot and flattened yourself against the wall. As the ride started spinning rapidly, the floor would drop and leave you suspended against the wall. If you weren’t paying attention as it started to slow down you might just fall. I imagine I’m not the only one who has had the feeling that the floor just dropped out from under us at one time or another.
In the wee hours of the night/morning as I sat typing a blog of gratitude to this community, my husband called out to me from the bedroom. I went to check on him and he was literally shivering, it was at least 80 degrees in the house. He complained of a splitting headache (he never gets headaches) and announced he was staying in bed all day. I covered him with a blanket and went to check his glucose monitoring spreadsheet.
Two hours earlier it was 472. I took his temp, it was nearing 102. His urine was the color of cola. He’s diabetic, with chronic kidney disease.
After consulting with his PCP, because I was “over reacting,” we dressed and headed to the ER. After a barrage of tests–Xrays, CT head scans, blood work et al.–they quickly found a UTI, started him on IV antibiotics and admitted him.
We’re waiting on further results and consults with the PCP and nephrologist. He just can’t seem to catch a break. We had a couple of months after the last hospital stay when he actually felt good and was active.
Now here we stand (or, in his case, sit) with the floor dropping out from under our feet once again. To paraphrase, “Send in the clowns, there ought to be clowns.”