Kindred Hospital

When I arrived at Kindred the first person I met was my nurse. Casey. While she and the aides were settling me in my room, she leaned over me and introduced herself. She smiled and her teeth seemed to glow.

I know I was on some heavy duty drugs but I also know what I saw. During my stay at Kindred, Casey would be my nurse about three times. Each time, especially if it was low light or dark, I could tell that what ever she was doing to whiten her teeth, she was probably over doing.

Aside from that Casey was a good nurse as were most of the nurses that took care of me. It was also the first time (that I remember) having a male nurse. Two of them.

Kindred was supposed to be a  first step toward rehabilitation. I was anxious to begin.

As with the other posts, I’m sure some of my memories are confused. At the time, I am unaware just how confused they will be.

The first day not much happens. I am still being medicated with various drugs. It isn't until now that I realize I hadn't given my heart much thought. I lie still to listen to my body. The heartbeat is a bit slower (not much) but it doesn't seem to be shaking my body.

I place my hand over my heart and think. Some of it finally comes to me. I am being given medication to help my heart. It is what causes my blood pressure to drop rather low. I am constantly asked if I am light headed or dizzy. Oddly, I am neither.

Becky comes to visit and decorates the bathroom door with a large, plastic covering that has a witch on it. It is my one and only Halloween decoration. She knows if I was home, my apartment would be in full bloom with Autumn and Halloween.

Randy comes to visit and brings a bouquet of Autumn flowers. The three of us discuss the issue of my apartment. Before I went to the hospital, I had already received my letter of appointment for reassessment. Becky had explained to the office my situation and the person who was responsible for this was very understanding, however, I needed to be reassessed. I was given extra time at the time of Becky’s conversation with Anne (the office person). My first appointment, if I remember should have been about the second week of October.

Randy said he would contact Anne and Becky said she would help him get my paperwork. This would be my biggest worry for awhile.

Kindred will not be a positive experience for me. Everyone has been very attentive but they are truly not prepared for me. Casey said it herself, "I'm not used to my patients talking". Nor are they used to someone with very low blood pressure be able to tell them truthfully, 'No, I'm not dizzy".

Of course my mind is still a bit foggy with all the drugs and I truly don't realize any of the above until much later. All I know is I'm anxious to get out of bed and begin walking again.

My drugs cause some serious dreams/hallucinations. I no longer dream of giant trees and keys I need to find. I do however dream. Becky will tell you that I hallucinate.

I am unable to get fully asleep one night. I'm uncomfortable and can barely move my body to get comfortable. I can move my head and when I look to my right I can see outside a window.

I see a large bird cage and inside are two Macaws. It is cold outside and I become concerned about them being out there until I see that someone has put a knitted Owl outfit on one of the Macaws. It has snuggled up to the larger Macaw to keep them both warm. I am extremely worried about the birds and wake up several times that night to check on them but it is so dark I can just barely make out the cage.

The next morning, it is still cold but the sun is shining. I look to see if the Macaws are okay but the cage is gone. I do see two women outside however and see that they are working with the birds. They suddenly disappear and I can hear them in the hall outside my room. They are taking the Macaws around to see the patients. Yet, they never come to my room.

I tell Becky about this later when she comes to visit. She patronizes me in a way most would when they know one is taking some strong drugs.

It isn't until I am home that I realize I dreamt or hallucinated what I saw. It will become a funny story told by Becky with much enthusiasm even though to this day I would swear it was all real.

The Physical Therapy staff is okay but they really don't seem to realize (even though I'm still dopey) that I'm ready to do what ever it takes to get back on my feet. I'm tired of being horizontal and tired of the hospital bed.

I do fight to sit up. The first time I did this, the PT manager was in my room and I was complaining to her how I hated being in bed. She looked at me (still thinking about my low blood pressure I'm sure) and said, "okay, sit up".

I was, by golly, going to show her I could!  I scooted to the edge of the bed, grabbed the bed railing and struggled to a sitting position---then fell back with a dull 'flop'. My body was without muscle or bone, I was sure of it. I've never experienced anything like this before. A new born baby could have done better.

PT manager didn't laugh at me though. She told me she was surprised that I was able to do what I did. It was that statement that made me work harder. It doesn't take long. Although I must lean on the mattress, I can sit up for a bit. Long enough to eat!

I know I don't have the days correct but I do know that it was close to a weekend when I was told by the therapy staff that on Monday I would get out of bed and begin. Yay!

In the mean time Ottie Calvert has come to my rescue and will trip and style my chopped hair. Chopped hair indeed. As she works she sees that the girl who cut my knotted hair off came dangerously close to my scalp a couple of times.

Ottie was so careful of me. She brought two capes to drape over me so hair wouldn't get on the bed.

Starting to look much better.

All done and looking so much better. It feels better!                                                     

A blurry picture of Becky and me. By the way, the covering they have over their clothes are for their protection. Just in case.

I am eating solid food but nothing looks or tastes good. I barely eat at first but slowly get my appetite back.

Note that I am sitting up. My elbow pushing against the mattress seems to balance me.

My heart doctor, John Lynch visits regularly. He wants to do a procedure to get my heart back in normal rhythm. For this I will be whisked off to Kettering Hospital.

I'm terrified. They want to shock my heart. I will be put out with a small dose of a drug, they will shock me then I will wake up. I ask Jeri if she can go with me. She says of course but I can't tell her exactly what day or time.

As it turns out, it was immediately. I think the next day. The ambulance was on its way and I barely had time to call Jeri to tell her. She will not be able to be with me.

I remember being rolled into a room and they didn't waste any time that I can remember. I was out. When I woke, everyone around me was smiling. "Did it work?" I asked. Lynch smiled and nodded. "Perfectly!"

The ride back to Kindred was exceedingly painful. The procedure (I think) caused the neuropathy in my legs to act up. When I say act up, the pain made me scream. It was on the outer side of my left and right thigh. It was terrible.

When I was got back to my room I was given pain medicine immediately. Not long after, I started on a pill called Gabapentin. 300 mg three times a day. This will change dramatically after I get home.

I spent a lonely weekend but kept upbeat because I knew come Monday I would begin therapy. I looked forward to it. I endured that awful bed and the worried looks from the nurses and aides when I said I wanted to sit up. I waited - it was the longest weekend I've ever experienced.

Monday morning I waited. Had breakfast, watched as person after person walked by my room. Lunch time came and went. I was pretty much beside myself around two o'clock. I was sure I'd have been in therapy by now. I was constantly asking the nurses or aides to contact therapy and find out what's going on.

No one came. No one told me why.

Finally, around five o'clock, three staff members from PT show up. Their excuse/reason; my blood pressure was still very low. I let loose. I was so angry. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Why did you let me sit here all day, looking forward to getting out of this bed? Why let me think all weekend that I would finally begin therapy? Why?" I'm crying of course but I am furious.

I can tell by the looks on their faces that they had dreaded coming to talk to me in the first place. They try to get me to stop crying but I won't be comforted. I tell them to get out of my room and I'm not quiet about it.

I cry myself to sleep. When I wake, supper is on my tray. I don't want it. I don't want anything. I just want to get out of bed.

It is another long night at Kindred.

The next morning, I am still unhappy. I barely speak to anyone, even my nurses. They try to explain things to me but I don't care. I've heard it before.

Occupational Therapy does come to get me for some tests. I'm not allowed to walk or anything like that but I am out of bed! I am perplexed at the tests they're doing. They want to see me swallow. I'm trying to make sense of this as I have been eating solid foods for quite a few days now. I try to ask why but I'm pretty much ignored. They must have heard about my meltdown with PT.

I do their stupid tests and am taken back to my room and put back into my bed. That hour of tests just about did me in. But it felt so good to get out of bed.

I will note here how antiquated the equipment is. I don't know medical equipment but I can tell when something is extremely old or at best, second hand. This is the way is with much of the equipment at Kindred. Including the beds and chairs.

PT has become invisible. I ask my doctors what I'm still doing here. If this is step-down therapy, I was ready to step down. I was done with Kindred and I'm sure they wouldn't mind seeing me gone.

I will be on my way to Dayton Rehabilitation in a day or two. I can not wait.

Before I leave a manager of the PT staff comes to see me. She tries to explain what happened on Monday. I didn't want to hear it. I asked her the same questions I asked them. She gave me the same answer. My blood pressure. I asked, "then why am I going to Dayton Rehab to begin PT?"

She had no response to that.

I will not miss Kindred.