I was calling our dogs Scruff n Fluff.; now, I call them Choodle and Boodle. It appears Bandido is 75% chihuahua and 25% poodle. I do not believe this for one minute, but that's what the DNA test says. I keep staring at her.... and, all I can think is "that's not a Choodle." She remains bitter. I promised her we could do another test in the future, with a different company.
Big news about Bitty Bichon, the small neighbor pup attacked by a coyote. She got her ports and stitches removed--and, she's definitely on the mend. She seems no worse for the wear, considering the trauma endured. She doesn't even seem fazed by the back yard, which is a miracle in itself.
Speaking of miracles, the wife's dad had two strokes--although his cognitive processing is a bit delayed and he stumbles over his words at times, he shows no other outward "signs" that something so serious happened. It is a true miracle that he is doing so well after such traumatic events.
Looking so "good" is problematic--a parade of people have trudged through the ICU to see him and they don't see the signs that he isn't as healthy as he might first appear. Since he looks good (actually, remarkably good), people miss the cues like he starts stumbling for words, he starts touching his head or he even outright grimaces. The visitors keep yipping and yapping and laughing and ignoring all the very obvious clues.
It is so easy to see the pain and confusion and exhaustion but the visitors miss the signs.
Yesterday, I was there with the two other daughter-in-laws (no one dares mess with three daughter- in-laws sitting in a row) when this stranger-to-us walks in. We turned to each other, wondering who this lady is. She sits down on the bed (the bed in an ICU!) and starts yapping. Then, this guy walks in. We don't know him, either. It's obvious the wife's dad knows these people but I can't say he looks very excited they are there. Being the polite man that he is, he smiles and tries to stay in the conversation. Next thing we know is a couple walk in, again strangers to us....
Okay, wait a minute. I thought ICU was for family and recovery and serious stuff. I didn't think people could just walk in. Hell, I'm from the days of ICU visitors were limited to 15 minutes every two hours. It appears anyone can walk right in to ICU and not sign in or say who they are or anything. Since both Sister-in-law #1 and I have both known the wife's family for more than thirty years, we know who the friends probably include. These people are not close family friends. I texted the wife to inquire, just in case we were wrong. Nope, she didn't know them, either. Sheesh.
Sister-in-law #1 and I decided to spring into action. We both very loudly started talking about how dad looks very tired and how he is grimacing in pain and that we are going to step out so he can get some rest. We talked about how he needs to limit his visitors and how too much stimulation was leading to his increased symptoms. We walked out, thinking that the lady would follow us.
Nope. She stayed there, yipping and yapping, all the while missing the absurdly obvious signs that this visit was over about 15 minutes earlier.
We went and found the nurse, who was a godsend on a variety of levels. First, we alerted her that the patient was back to grimacing and in pain. We then explained we knew none of the people in the room and that the increase of symptoms appeared related to the visitors and stimulation. We asked if there were a way to limit the circus, especially those that were obviously not good friends. (We were able to confirm this later, so we felt good about our decision to take action.) She agreed that this was inappropriate and that she'd get some signs to post. She asked us for a list of people to allow in without question. I asked about how an ICU works, explaining how I was stunned by the visitors just coming in unannounced and unchecked.
The immediate result: two signs on the door (excellent deterrents, I might add) and a list of people to let in. The parade slowed to a trickle.
At first, our little patient was miffed. I think he was afraid that we were going to keep everyone from seeing him. He complained that we should let everyone in. I pointed out how he had been complaining just a few moments earlier about one of the visitors (he said that he doesn't even like the guy and that he's a bore who stayed for FORTY FIVE MINUTES)... and, he agreed. No more non-friend bores to be allowed.
The wife's mom was also a little miffed, as she thought we were saying no one could visit. That was easily sorted out. (We are a force to behold--the daughter-in-laws suffer no fools gladly. I think we may have scared away everyone with in a 20 mile radius.) All we wanted was to give the patient time to heal.
I want to talk about the nurse but she's worth an entire blog so I will save her for the next entry. Suffice it to say she was nothing short of amazing and was a great learning opportunity for the wife's dad. I cannot say enough good about her. Blew me away.
Although it's kind of weird to compare a human's recovery to a dog's recovery, I have faith that the wife's dad will have just as full recovery as Bitty Bichon. Both are on the mend. Both require us to be cautiously optimistic. Neither are out of the woods but both are on the right path.
For today, I will worry about the bitter Choodle and how to help her process her heritage. I will trust the ICU to do its job and that the family members present today will help their father recover surrounded by peace and quiet--not add to the circus or allow such nonsense to transpire.
Don't make the daughter-in-laws come back to town. We'll whip you all into shape. We may not be able to do anything about Bandido's choodle-dom but we can throw you out of the ICU.
I've done worse. Heh heh.
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