But, But, Pineapple Juice?

Randy is great, and our conversations are always fun, despite the serious reasons for them. She's the county public health nurse, supervisor to the home health aids that come in and take care of my dad. When there's a change, or a problem, we talk. Whatever needs to, gets done.

My dad's cold had long since appeared to disappear. No runny nose, very little coughing, the "I'm sick" feeling long gone. Only problem is, he got out-of-breath just in the process of sitting up in bed in the morning. Even with the help of a pulling hand. And on oxygen. So I called Randy and asked her if she could come out and help me assess his condition, see if he needed medical intervention. She has lots of little tools that can do things like measure his blood oxygen saturation, listen to his lungs. Add to that the experience to know what she's dealing with, and the willingness to make house calls, and we're set.

She checked her schedule and made room to come out the next morning, but first, she gave me a shopping list. We needed my dad to be able to cough up whatever was clogging his lungs. She figured the stuff was just sticking to the sides. Then she could diagnose from color - icky yellow or green - whether there was an infection that needed medicating. Problem was, he coughed little and usually came up dry. She had a solution for that. Three, actually.

First, Robitussin. No fancy add-ons, just plain Guaifenesin, the expectorant. Generic would be fine. And watch the dosage because they've been diluting it these days so you need to take more than you used to have to: read the label. Why? I envisioned some kid getting into it, and saying, "Gee, Daddy, I didn't kill myself on all the medicine because I got full on all the water first!"

Then Vicks Vapo-Rub. Now that's a name from the past. My last memory of that is Mom using it on my chest and me fighting with her because it tickled so. Needless to say, I had no idea what it looked like or where to find it in the store, but lucked into finding a stocking person in the department when I needed one. Randy added that I needed to not only rub it on his chest, but into the bottoms of his feet as well, especially the ball of each foot.

Huh? Really?

She explained it worked like reflexology, and the ball of the foot was connected to the lungs. Treat it, treat them.

OK, yeah, whatever. No biggie to rub it in a couple extra spots, and he seemed to enjoy it. The idea tickled me, the reality didn't literally tickle him. So we're good. Oh, and she said to also use it to cure toenail fungus. Talk about off-label medications! But hey, maybe I'll try that some day. When I've got some time.

Now there was just one last thing I needed to pick up: pineapple! Either the fruit bits or the juice. Or both. Apparently one of its actions is to loosen up the crap in the lungs so it can be coughed out. Mother Nature's own special little cure was how Randy put it. For me, this would be extreme. I am not a pineapple fan. My dad, however, likes it. So I got both. Juice for bedtime and breakfast drink, and fruit for breakfast fruit cup.

With all the cures and nostrums liberally applied, he was coughing up crap as I left for work Friday. I told him to save it so Randy could see it, cough into a handkerchief rather than a tissue. Around 10:30 I got a call from her: he definitely had a respiratory tract infection. It was a nasty green. Moreover, his blood oxygen levels, at 97% resting, bottomed out when he walked to the bathroom even though he remained connected to his O2. And by the way, who turned the concentrator machine up to 3? It was set at 2.

Nobody claimed responsibility, though it seems to have been a good idea. Maybe a lucky bump when it got moved across the room.

But anyway, he needed to be seen. Oh, and by the way, he also seemed to have a galloping UTI at the same time.

Since it was Friday, I told her to walk down the hall and knock on Paul's door, wake him up, and explain what was needed. She did, and he did.

Around 3 I got another call, this time from Paul. The hospital, site of the urgent care clinic, had decided to admit him "overnight for observation." Plus, they were administering IV antibiotics. Yes, he had a UTI. He also had pneumonia, according to the X-rays.

By the time I stopped in after work, the nurses were trying to figure out how to keep his foot warm. This is the one that has nerve damage from the first hip replacement surgery, where they let the leg stretch and severed the nerve that allows him to lift the foot. Malpractice settlement, foot brace, handicap status officially. This last year or so, it's been getting cold to his senses, during cooler weather. We've been putting on double socks at night, then tripple on that foot, and adding blankets on the bed. Occasionally a very-warm foot-bath helps. We're thinking about trying an electric blanket. The problem is, the foot often isn't really cold, but the nerve damage tells him that it is. It keeps him from sleeping well. So his nurses were piling on the blankets, and I was offering advice. Finally he asked for a heavy-duty sleeping pill at bedtime in hopes that that would keep him asleep enough to stop noticing it.

His attitude is good, his breathing seems fine - at least while he's just lying in bed with his head elevated and getting hospital O2. Same little 2-prong tube in the nose, hooked around the ears. The IV treatment was done, though the ports were still taped on the back of his hand, and he was ignoring the fruit cup on the table by his bed. The Foley keeps him from needing to get up and about, and after a minor irrigation, the abdominal pain disappeared. Apparently he was a wee bit clogged.

I'm to call in after 10 this morning and find out how he's doing, whether he's staying longer or coming home. I could have even slept in this morning, with nobody to get out of bed, dressed, dosed, and fed. Unfortunately, my body knows its wakin' up time. I'll catch a nap later.

But, hey, really: pineapple juice?