She Talks To Angels

Entry 5    12:42 a.m.

She must be terrified, all alone with this news while confused and delirious.

Entry 4    11:07 p.m.

The doctor called. Jenny's bleed cannot be fixed, it was determined after yet another scope. The bleeding is too diffuse and the bleeding tumor in a place that can't  be reached. Which also means her emboli cannot be treated. Which means her time to decide on hospice is getting very short. Which means she is close to actively dying.

We had a dry run of sorts earlier tonight when Jenny called and told me according to the doctor she wouldn't last through the night.

Worrying for Jenny today.

I told the girls and her sisters what Jenny had said. About 5 minutes later I had an epiphany--  Jenny is delusional and what she told me wasn't reality based. I let everyone know no doctor had spoken to me at that point, and warned Jenny may simply be confused. Sure enough, when the doctor called, it turns out what she said was that Jenny, if she left tonight, she would likely be dead by morning.

 

Jenny's fear, when we talk on the phone, is palpable.

Entry 3    10:34 p.m. 

Jenny, we learned, almost bled out. A few more hours delay and she would have been dead. After two CTs, they discovered she had two large bilateral pulmonary embolisms. They can't be treated until they find and stop the bleed, the doctor told me. So they went in to find the bleed.  They found it they thought, in her liver. A tumor, not sure which one, is leaking. So, with those findings, they went back in to cauterize the tumor, to stop the bleed. They couldn't find the bleed. So, a third CT scan was performed. If it shows the precise tumor leaking blood, then they go back in tonight to cauterize.

This was the hardest day of all the days at home, to date. I won't go into details, other than to say it took Jenny almost 20 minutes to crawl up the stairs to her room with me behind her to make sure she didn't fall. Thank God Kim was there to help, while I had run with Leiney to the coffee stand two minutes from home.

I couldn't put Jenny in an ambulance. Pride, my need to care for her, and the abject humiliation Jenny would feel all drove my consideration when making that decision.

Entry 2    3:11 p.m.

At hospital. Jenny's experiencing myriad problems.  This morning it was evident she is passing blood, copious amounts, in fact. They will transfuse, scope, and then admit her. She was <15 hematocrit and also had terrible hemoglobin numbers. She is hallucinating, confused, and just suggested I could call her mother who died in 2020, to relieve me. 

The palliative care doctor backing up Dr. B visited for a long time. She was so kind.

They will perform a CT scan, endoscopy and a colonoscopy. This poor woman.

Entry 1 9:43 a.m.

Ultimately, the only thing that matters is ensuring what precious time Jenny has left is spent well. Last night she went to book club, a friend picked her up and drove her. She promised only to be gone less than an hour. She was gone three. She was so exhausted after getting home, she collapsed outside her bedroom after crawling up the stairs. She had a wonderful time, and I am glad. Also, she is driving nails in her coffin by not staying home and taking care of herself. Her call--I would be burning the candle at both ends when I could--but I would try to focus on the children (at least I hope I would). Also, note in therapy the other night she said she felt like a prisoner in her home because she can't go out after 4, a request Leiney made at the family meeting and to which Jenny readily acceded. Two nights ago Daniel's with el pinché; last night book club--neither events fallung within the agreed upon parameters. Her choice. No one stopped her from going, no one,  no one forced her to go and no one criticized her for

being out. 

I don't know if I wrote about this, but Jenny's delirium, which was gradually sneaking up on us, came roaring back yesterday. A couple of days ago, while watching the Olympics, she told us she had, just two days before, been playing Women's Hockey.  Mind you, playing it on the television is not what she meant. She actually believed this.  We didn't push back. Since yesterday, as noted in an earlier post, the confusion has become all-encompassing. This has me worried again. I sent a missive to the doctor.

Jenny fell this morning. It was just after 8, I was downstairs drinking coffee and trying to eek out of Kim why people have been so awful by helping Jenny with her paramour, when we heard a loud thump. Dead weight. I ran up the stairs to find Jenny had fallen on the bedroom floor (wall to wall carpet, thankfully). She said she fell on her head. I felt completely awful. I had thought she would sleep and then call out for me if, upon waking, she needed me. That didn't happen. I got her up, held her and helped her get on the toilet, and then back to bed when she was done. I covered her up, got her orange juice, meds and checked to see if she was hurt. She had no injuries that I could see, thankfully. I am putting a baby monitor in the room today. I want her to move downstairs. This was awful.

Now, for the additional scary news. As if she isn't suffering enough, Jenny is experiencing edema, how severe is not for me to say, but it is scary as all get out. I took her socks off last night and where her socks had been, the skin was compressed by 1.5 inches or so relative to her ankles and her leg above the shins. Moreover, her stomach is swollen with fluid, such that it hurts terribly. This could all be caused by the fludrcortisone or it could be ascites. If its the former, no big deal, if its the latter, its a catastrophe.