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More troubles.
Friday, January 31st, 2014 11:31 amMum is back in hospital.
She hasn’t really been right since her stroke back in October, but we expected that. She will be 86 in May, so there is only so much you can expect, even from a tough old buzzard like Mum.
It appears that the main problem lies with her heart, or at least one of the valves, which has its own opinion on whether or not to let the correct amount of blood through at any particular time. This means that her blood pressure is alternately too high or too low. So she is either light headed or in danger of another stroke. In theory this can be treated with medication, but they have to find the right mix. We were told that it is early stage heart failure: I rather wish there was a less dramatic sounding name for it, because after the initial horror of what that sounds like, it again, appears to be something that can be managed and people can live a reasonably full and productive life with managed heart failure. It didn’t stop it from scaring the crap out of the family, though.
Ironically, Mum’s soft focus consciousness these days means that she doesn’t really appreciate much of this. Other than the fact that she is tired all the time, she appears to be reasonably happy and content and enjoys playing with her great grandchildren. It’s the rest of us who are left to fret.
However it turns out, she is back in hospital after scaring the bejasus out of my sister last night by being very breathless and coughing up brown phlegm. On top of everything else it appears she has a chest infection and may have had another mini stroke, though we’re hoping not, obviously.
The upshot in the immediate term is that my sister and niece didn’t get home until 4.30 this morning and I was on the phone fretting into the early hours. I have my bag packed and under the desk in the event I have to go back to Shropshire at a moment’s notice, but in actual fact, I just want to go home and sleep.
She hasn’t really been right since her stroke back in October, but we expected that. She will be 86 in May, so there is only so much you can expect, even from a tough old buzzard like Mum.
It appears that the main problem lies with her heart, or at least one of the valves, which has its own opinion on whether or not to let the correct amount of blood through at any particular time. This means that her blood pressure is alternately too high or too low. So she is either light headed or in danger of another stroke. In theory this can be treated with medication, but they have to find the right mix. We were told that it is early stage heart failure: I rather wish there was a less dramatic sounding name for it, because after the initial horror of what that sounds like, it again, appears to be something that can be managed and people can live a reasonably full and productive life with managed heart failure. It didn’t stop it from scaring the crap out of the family, though.
Ironically, Mum’s soft focus consciousness these days means that she doesn’t really appreciate much of this. Other than the fact that she is tired all the time, she appears to be reasonably happy and content and enjoys playing with her great grandchildren. It’s the rest of us who are left to fret.
However it turns out, she is back in hospital after scaring the bejasus out of my sister last night by being very breathless and coughing up brown phlegm. On top of everything else it appears she has a chest infection and may have had another mini stroke, though we’re hoping not, obviously.
The upshot in the immediate term is that my sister and niece didn’t get home until 4.30 this morning and I was on the phone fretting into the early hours. I have my bag packed and under the desk in the event I have to go back to Shropshire at a moment’s notice, but in actual fact, I just want to go home and sleep.