I feel like I'm in..

the Twilight zone these days.

After a 3 week period (back in March) of Hubby feeling increasingly weak and sick, I called an ambulance to take him to hospital. It was supposed to be for a couple of days only. A few tests, treatments, some medication and hopefully back home.
No way.
He's been in hospital ever since.
We're going on 18 days now.

What a nightmare. First the emergency ward. A horrible place to be for a night, never mind two. Hubby was put on wall oxygen using a "rebreather mask". In other words, a very high amount of oxygen and one we cannot duplicate at home.

The nightmare began when nurses decided to adjust his oxygen. No rhyme or reason, just felt they should turn it down. Definitely not good. Poor Hubby nearly passed out several times. On one occasion, somebody turned it off because it was too noisy.
I shrieked.
Tore open the curtain in the next cubicle (where hubby's oxygen was located), turned it back up and yelled "WHO TURNED OFF THE OXYGEN!??"
There was only the poor patient lying in bed and (get ready........) a cardiologist. Now I have no proof that it was this doctor who inadvertently turned the oxygen off, but there was nobody else there.

I marched up to the head nurse. Told her what happened. Told her I was not going to file an "incident report", but she should know what is happening in the E.R. Magically, hubby was moved to "overflow" the same day.

Overflow is a holding unit for patients awaiting admission. There was a little more privacy. More space to put things.
However - once again, the nurses took it upon themselves to "wean" hubby off his high power, what is supposed to be short term, oxygen consumption.

Nurse #1 took off this specialized mask and gave him the "prongs" (same kind we use at home). He then proceeded to turn the oxygen setting down from 15 to 6.
Once again I shrieked like a banshee!
"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM!!??"
"M'am, I know COPD. Don't worry."
"LIKE HELL YOU DO!"
"M'am, calm down, this is doctor's orders."
"WHICH DOCTOR?" I knew nobody had given him any such order.
No answer.
"WHICH DOCTOR TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?"
Still no answer.
"CALL RESPIRATORY THERAPY."
"I know what I'm doing."

Poor Hubby's oxygen sats descended like a stone. Before I could punch this nurse out, he realized he was doing something wrong. So he removed the prongs and put back the re-breather mask. Respiratory therapy arrived soon afterwards and I told the therapist what happened. She marched right over to this nurse and gave him "sh....".

The next day, Nurse #2 decided to do the same thing.
'NO WAY!" I bellowed at him.
He was more amenable - just turned his back and went on to another patient.
By this time I was beside myself. I felt I could not leave hubby for even an instant. The next day his respirologist came in and I told her what had been going on with the nurses. She was angry and wrote a note in the chart that NOBODY was to touch his oxygen. Finally!

There were a few more incidents, but I'm too tired to recount them. Now Hubby is moved to a ward and his care is much better.

My days are spent at the hospital. I do come home to sleep, even if it is fitful. Today I had to take a half a day off. I came home after lunch and slept the afternoon away. This evening I will go over bills and other paperwork that has been neglected.

Hubby is awaiting placement at Mount Sinai Hospital here in Montreal. If he comes home it will be a miracle. I keep hoping and praying, but the chances are slim.

Spring is in full bloom here. Leaves are coming to life. My garden is blooming. I brought Hubby some daffodils to put by his bedside.