The Homecoming

Daddy is going to be coming home soon. He has been stuck in a nursing home for nearly two months. This has been upsetting to me and it has been hard for me not to be angry at my mother for leaving him there.

After his last hospitalization, he was too weak to stand, so the hospital, without asking, transferred him to a nursing home for physical rehab. I wanted to bring him home and have physical therapists come to the house, but my mother didn't think she could handle him. She was adamant that he would stay in the nursing home for the time being.

Eventually, he could walk again, but my mother still didn't want to bring him home because he needed to wear diapers. She kept raising the bar for what was required to come home. Every time we visited, he would ask when he could come home. It was heartbreaking for me.

I was tempted to bring him home with me, but I'm gone so much, I would need 24 hour a day caregivers for him. I don't make that kind of money.

In the nursing home, Daddy was starting to deteriorate. He was losing weight, refusing to get out of bed and mostly just staring off into space with glazed-over eyes. He rarely talked and wouldn't respond to questions. I thought that he was suffering from depression. His only request was for water.

Finally, a bill came for the amount of the nursing home not covered by Medicare. It was for six thousand, six hundred and six dollars, plus change. It was the sign of the Anti-Christ. Now, my mother was ready to take Daddy home. She didn't know how to get him out, so I took care of it. It was simple. I just went to the nursing station and said that we wanted to take my father home. They called a doctor to get discharge orders, but the doctor wanted my father to go to the emergency room first to be checked out. He was showing signs of developing pneumonia.

I said fine and later we met him at the hospital. The first thing I noticed was that IV fluid was running about four times faster than would be expected for someone with my father's health problems. I knew immediately why. Daddy was dehydrated. With the fluids, he had already perked up. His eyes were sharp and alert again.

He was admitted so that they could continue to treat him for his severe dehydration. I am so angry. First of all, I'm angry at myself for not recognizing the dehydration. I'm a nurse. There is no excuse.

I'm also angry at the nursing home. They should have been monitoring his fluid intake. Daddy would drink anything put in front of him, so I'm sure that they just weren't giving him enough fluids to drink. The nurses had a duty to make sure he was properly hydrated. Even if my father was refusing fluids, which I doubt, they needed to get an order to give him IV fluids. It was below the standard of care to allow him to get dehydrated.

I'm planning on making a complaint against the nursing home's license. Lindsay wants to sue them for elder neglect. This may turn into a big lawsuit. I would love to get them shut down so that they can't abuse any more patients.