Archive for Stubborn

In Hospice: To Bed or Not To Bed?

hospital beds

The rational reasons for using a hospital bed make a long, persuasive list. But you don’t care . . .

Who would want one?

Does anyone really like ‘em?

They have cranks and levers, wobbly wheels, and are cumbersome to move or adjust. Newer models are often complex, with silent electric motors, links for computer cables, and (though pricey) lightweight metal alloy frames.

But who seeks to be horizontal in a hospital bed of any kind? Not for overnight, and certainly not for the remainder of your life. Whenever the hospice clinical staff discusses current patients, it’s nearly inevitable that at least one patient has recently balked at shifting to a hospital bed. I view the hospital bed as one of the intimidating symbols of hospice care. Of course, it’s more than a symbol once it arrives at your home.

Wouldn’t you refuse?

We like love our bed in our bedroom. It’s a sanctuary. Don’t all the health care experts tout the value of a good night’s sleep? Whether retired, in a part-time job, or with a stressful career (along with raising kids, volunteering, and don’t forget yard and house work), doesn’t everyone desire to sleep every day? Do the personal math: we’re on a mattress more than we eat, work, play, exercise, procrastinate, shovel snow, mow a lawn, or take a vacation. Hey, for some, a little sleep is as close as they’ll get to a vacation for long stretches of time. Work is demanding. Families are demanding. At least let me escape into my cozy bed! Read More →

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It’s Hard to Cure Stubborn

“I’ll give you six minutes . . .”

70-90% of the population is right-handed. I’m one of them. When recovering from carpal tunnel surgery on my right wrist back in 2013, various mundane tasks became a tad challenging:

  • Being on or near a toilet (I’m keeping descriptions G-rated).
  • Zipping any zipper.
  • Tucking in my shirt.
  • Brushing my teeth.
  • Washing my left hand.
  • Putting on my dog’s collar.
  • Taking a shower.

All activity seemed an ever-changing obstacle course of once simple gestures and decisions. Fortunately, I have a wife willing to lend a hand. Unfortunately, I am a stubborn guy. She offered to help with my shirt-tucking endeavors. No way! Can I help you zip that zipper? I’ve got it! I relented on the shower. There’s only so many hours in the day and who wants to spend significant clock time air-drying rather than using a towel wielded by a different set of hands?

My ordeal lasted barely a week. Read More →

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I’m Fine

I'm FineYou visit your mother and she mentions a little ache in her lower back. In her seventies, she still rises early to stretch. The brisk walk with Cosmo the dog comes next, and then a sensible breakfast for both of them. But there is that ache. She’s taking more Advil, and has less energy in the afternoons. Because of that “little” pain, not even naps seem to give her enough rest.

And you ask, since you love her, “Is everything okay? Should you see your doctor?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” she says.

Nearing your golden wedding anniversary, your husband often appears short of breath. He’s never been into exercise regimes, and has one of those metabolisms everyone hates. At seventy-two, he can put on the tuxedo worn when you celebrated 25 years of marriage. Now, while doing yard work, his breathing is occasionally labored. You notice he wakes at night more frequently for bathroom trips . . . but he (and his prostate) are getting older. However, on several occasions he didn’t immediately return to bed, but sat on the chair by the closet.

In the dark of the bedroom, you ask, “Are you okay?” Read More →

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