"Best Mom In The World"

Wow! Yep, that's what he called me this afternoon. Of course there was a reason, and let's not bury the lead here. Rich is in the hospital with a 5mm kidney stone.  He'll be spending at least one more night. Beyond that it's just waiting.

Unbeknownst to me, it started about 4 days ago. Rich didn't say anything. Unfortunately for him he decided to research his symptoms online. He came up with dehydration for his self diagnosis, so started bulking up on fluids: water, juice, whatever. 

Oops.

Yesterday morning he was working in the kitchen where I could hear him, and what I heard was loud moaning. It was interrupted a couple times by trips to the bathroom. In this house it's no challenge to hear flushing noises. Vomiting too. After two such episodes, I asked what was going on. My instant motherly been-there-had-that diagnosis was a kidney stone. I told him to get ready for a trip to the ER. (OK, I know they call it ED now, but I've had 72 years of practice with the old title. Give me a few.)

While he collected a few things like ID, insurance, phone, I called the hospital to ask whether visitors were allowed in the ED. The answer now is yes. So I prepped for a visit too.

Several things are different these days. Hand sanitizers greet you upon entering. Enough time has passed since the last family emergency that the hospital's brand new wing containing the emergency entrance is now open. It's waiting room is significantly larger, so we had no issue with social distancing, even to the point where as we sat after checking in Rich insisted I sit two seats away. When checking in, both of us had our temperatures taken, on the wrist now. After answering a few questions, I was given a dated sticker to wear allowing me in the ED.

Nothing has changed in the length of waiting done there. The one quick part was getting into the triage room. Their big concern for what was going on with Rich was that his pulse was pretty low, about 40 bpm. While on me that meant I needed a pacemaker, for Rich it meant just an EKG. Its results, along with his explanation that he's always been athletic and this last year has been doing a lot of bicycling, got him put back down on the list of urgency. 

We waited long enough that I had ample chance to check out the new "state of the art" restrooms. A wave of the hand opens the door and works going in and out. Presumably it keeps one from spreading ...any guesses? The towel dispensers also required only a wave per towel, and if you wished two, a quick second wave produced another, no waiting. So I am left to wonder why, exactly, the toilets still require one to pull down the lever to flush? If they're hoping to reduce disease spread, epic fail there.

Over an hour's wait after triage, we both decided I could head home and wait for news. Being pretty sure what he likely had, I figured he'd be admitted anyway. He had his phone to call for anything, and he and Steve texted briefly several times on his status. Yep, it was a kidney stone. They would try to break it up by ultrasound this morning. Everybody got some sleep.

About 1:30 this afternoon Rich texted Steve again. Could I please please please bring him some food? Now when this started, Rich was in the kitchen making a huge pot of soup. This involves saving up chicken carcasses after eating all the good parts, throwing them in the freezer, and collecting them until there’s enough for a large pot. What you get is a minimum of meat, along with bones, gristle, and skin. After several hours, the broth is quite rich. Once boiled, any meat remaining is tender enough to remove with fingertips, and the gets rest sent out with the garbage. More chopped chicken gets added to the strained broth, along with boullion, all  kinds of finely chopped vegetables (so you barely notice them!), seasonings, rice, canned corn, tomatoes and tomato juice. Simmer a few more hours, and eat. Mmmmm, it made a great supper. Breakfast too.

 Before leaving the ED I’d asked Rich what his plans for the soup were and where in the process he was. I finished it once home, and other than what I ate - somebody had to taste it! - put over 5 pints of it in the refrigerator.

When he called this afternoon, his thoughts were on getting some of that soup brought to him in the hospital. He’d gotten the OK for food at 11:30. None came. He hadn't eaten since Wednesday night. This late in the day, he figured he wasn’t getting lunch so could I bring food for a starving son? And visit too?

It took a couple of calls to the hospital to find out that yes, I could do both. Big change since Steve was last in when I couldn’t visit, just drop off and pick up, send up a bag of needed items which were checked by security and sealed before going to his room. I put in one of the pints of soup and 2 snack-pack containers of strawberry-apple sauce, adding napkins and plastic spoons.

He called just as I was pulling in to the hospital parking ramp.  Before he could ask, I let him know what I was bringing him and how close I was. That’s when I heard, “You’re the best Mom in the world!” I joked back that I’d been waiting my whole life to hear that! He tried to give me his room number. I already had it written on the palm of my hand, getting it when I called the hospital, also knowing that as I passed the front desk for my mandatory check-up before visiting clearance, I could get it there as well. Rich apparently hasn’t been to visit people in the hospital enough to know or remember that’s where the info is available. Turned out to be a good thing,  because the hand sanitizer at the door erased the room number right off my palm.

Once at his room, the first thing I saw was the bright yellow card taped next to his door with a warning to not give foods! I called staff attention to it, and they rushed to check that my contrary information was correct. In fact, they were so speedy in coming in with the removed yellow card in hand and their OK that he’d only gotten one full bite out of the soup first!

I have to wonder if service has always been that bad, or whether the pandemic has simply exhausted everybody so much that they just can’t stir with their usual care and diligence.

He loved the soup, and finished half and one of the cups of fruit sauce before somebody else came to take him to x-ray. We were assured it would be a short visit, so his soup wouldn’t spoil before he got back. Since everybody’s on isolation, there was no refrigeration available should he be delayed a couple hours. I fully expect he’s wolfed the rest of his meal down and is waiting for whatever comes from the cafeteria around 5:30, stocking up for his next round of nothing-after-midnight for whatever tomorrow’s plans for him are.