I had every intention of writing something happy and completely aimless today. Nothing was aligned or planned, but I was feeling particularly bubbly and optimistic. I was going to perhaps write something yesterday evening or maybe even this morning before work. Nothing huge, long or noteworthy, but something.
And then things changed.
I had to leave work a little early yesterday, because Momma had text me and asked me to ride to the Doctor with her. One of her doctors had called at the end of last week and said that they needed to redo her blood tests, so I assumed that was what it was.
I was woefully mistaken.
When I got into the car I could tell that she was really upset. I asked her what was wrong and she told me that the pinky toe on her bad foot (it's the right one- she has neuropathy and charcot foot, among other things) was black and blistered. She thought that it might be her diabetes and she was scared. Of course she was scared, her toe was black.
I immediately panicked, but kept my panic inside and tried to be calm and reassuring to her. She cried, my heart sank.
I called her Doctor and the nurse told me that her Doctor was out for the day, but to go ahead and take her to the ER for an X-ray to be sure. I made a list of things that it could be besides her diabetes, afterall we've had that fairly in control lately. I told her that it could be from the added pressure that she had put on it this past weekend during her trip to Arkansas. I told her that it could be from pressure in general. I told her that it could be a dislocated joint. I had a million answers with no answers in all actuality.
We went to the ER and checked her in. They did X-rays and the Doctor checked her out and they sent us to the waiting room to what? Wait, of course. Forever. You know when you wait forever, but when you desperately want/need to know something that it seems to take three times as long? It was something like that. Momma was scared and tired, I was scared and tired and frankly that Doctor was slow as shit.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those "Come deal with us first, because we are the only ones that exist in the entire universe" type of people. But when you go to the ER and X-rays are taken and you are told that the Doctor will be in "in just a moment" to discuss with you what's wrong, and then you sit in the waiting room for two and a half hours panicked, anybody would be a bit irritable.
After that long I went out to find the Doctor and where did I happen to find him? Sitting behind the nurses station. Now, I worked in a nursing home for five years. Nurses and Doctors have to sit behind the nursing station. Techs have to be at the nursing station. Unfortunately, paperwork is a far larger aspect of that job than anyone realizes and you have to do it and follow the protocol or else things can go South very quickly.
I know this. I get this. I understand this.
However, when you wait with your panicked mother for two and a half hours with her worried that she's going to lose an appendage of some sort and you walk out to find the Doctor behind the nursing station flirting (and not well might I add, dude is lucky he is a Doctor, because he is surely not smooth) with a young nursing student, you get a little perturbed. And then when you try to ask him a simple MEDICAL question and he looks at you like you're totally inconveniencing him with your "nonsense" about one of his patients, if you're anything like me, you get a bit.....I don't want to say snarky, I think the correct term would be more along the lines of bitchy. Like I said, I understand things can't go speed fast in the medical profession and I'm usually very pleasant about all of that, but come on dude, finish with your patients first.
He explained that he would be in "in just a few minutes" to discharge Momma and explain everything that was going on. I asked him if she was going to lose her foot and he said- "No". Thank God. So, an hour later he came in, told us what was wrong (it was temporarily cut off from circulation due to pressure causing two blood blisters and the start of a pressure ulcer), that he had to see one more patient and then he would get her discharge papers ready to go.
We got home at almost eight o'clock last night, I made supper, filled Momma's medicine, helped her take her shower, filled out her paperwork (seven pages worth) and cleaned the kitchen up before I managed to drag myself into the shower and fall onto my bed well after eleven last night.
And now we have our orders. Momma went to see a vascular surgeon today (Bubba went with her) and he to is keeping an eye on things, doing some tests and has given us orders. She can't put excess pressure on her foot and has to stay off of it as much as possible. She has to take the antibiotics to make sure infection doesn't creep up or in (diabetes makes it harder to heal, therefore a more intense/troublesome healing process). She has to have the tests done. She has to basically stay in the chair only walking to the bathroom and minimal (and I do mean MINIMAL) driving. She has a second boot for cushioning, support and circulation. Her toe is slowly, but surely returning to its normal color and looks better by the hour, but we have to keep a close eye on it.
And we as a family and whole will get through this and do it.