Wow. What a day it turned out to be!
The original plan.
Get three cats to the vet for spay/neuter. That’s an hour’s drive one way, so we were going to drop them off, then stay in the (smaller, nearer) city to do any shopping we needed until we got the call to pick up the cats. Typically, that’s been around 1 or 2, though I’ve have them call me before noon at times.
Once the cats were picked up, we’d take them home, I’d drop them and our shopping off with my daughter, then I would go to my mother’s apartment in the town south of us, check on things, clean her fridge, pick up the wheelchair the hospital requested, then go to the town north of us, to my mother’s in the hospital. They want to measure her in it and see if it’s appropriate to go with her to a personal care home, whenever that happens.
After dropping off the wheelchair, I planned to visit with my mother for a while. Due to her cognitive issues, she was not told that there was an appointment at 6pm with my brother, as PoA, the doctor and myself, as her advocate for the past 7+ years. From there, I expected to go home.
Of course, that didn’t happen.
Well. Part of it happened.
The first thing to do was get three fasting cats from the isolation shelter, into carriers. We really, really wanted to get Frank. She was perched on the shelf above the cat bed, in the middle, where it was hard for either of us to reach her from the sliding windows. She did get close enough that my daughter could get her, but I couldn’t get around to get the carrier closer before Frank escaped.
Frank does NOT want to get got!
Thankfully, my daughter did not end up bleeding. (Side note: I finally found the scratch proof gauntlets today! They were hiding in plain sight, of course….)
So we grabbed who we could. That turned out to be Sir Robin, who is extremely easy to get got, Grommet, also and easy one, and a grey tabby with no name, because it was the biggest of the remaining cats in the shelter.
Oh, and we had 7 cats and kittens in there to fast overnight, not 8. I was sure there was a second tabby kitten in there, but I was wrong.
The tabby was not happy. This is a kitten we’ve been able to pet and pick up, but nowhere near as socialized as the other two. We were 99% sure this one was male. We’ve got several similar looking, short haired, grey tabbies that move around so much, I’m never quite sure if I’m looking at the same one twice.
Our goal was to be on the road by 7:30, to get to the clinic for 8:30, though our drop off time was 8:50.
We did manage to be on the road by 7:30, but with road conditions in places, we per parking at the clinic closer to 8:45. Which is why I always like to leave early!
During the drive in, I brought up that we needed a name for the tabby. Neither of us could think of one right away, but while checking them in, my daughter came up with Flopsy, because when we pick him up, that’s how he gets. Flopsy.
Once the cats were checked in and taken to the back, my daughter and I headed over to the Walmart and had breakfast at the McRaunchies there. It was shortly after 9am by then.
After breakfast, we did our shopping. With the polar vortex expected to hit soon, we had a few things we wanted to restock on, plus we found extras. That will get its own post later, since it did turn out to be a larger shop.
I got a message from my husband that one of my packages is in, so I added picking that up on my list of things to do after dropping off the cats at home.
When packing things into the box of the truck, we were selectively packing things into insulated bags to prevent them from freezing, rather than the other way around.
Of course, since I needed to get up and get on the road early in the day, I had an almost sleepless night. I was pretty tired, so we warmed up the truck and just stayed in it, while I tried to nap a bit. We had to turn the truck on to warm up again only once in that time.
After a while, though, I needed to use the washroom, so I headed back into the Walmart, while my daughter stayed in the truck. I hadn’t realized, while I was napping, that the weather had already started to turn. A huge wind had picked up, and there was blowing snow, everywhere. Not new snow. The wind was picking up any loose snow out there, and the parking lot was in whiteout conditions!
I headed in for a few minutes then decided to go to a Dollarama that shares the same parking lot. I found a few things there before rejoining my daughter in the truck.
By this time, it was well past noon and I was expecting to get a call from the clinic soon. My daughter needed her turn to use the facilities, so we both went in and ended up finding a few more things to purchase. Once we were done there, we decided we may as well go to the clinic. We could be in their waiting room instead of the truck, and it wouldn’t be too long, right?
Right?
We got there before 2, only to find out they hadn’t even started on any of the kittens yet.
Keep in mind, these poor things had been fasting for about 17 hours by then. It turned out the clinic had a couple of large dogs needing surgery that took more time, so doing the kittens got delayed.
Now, I hadn’t bothered to tell them that I had a 6pm appointment, because… well… it was at 6pm, and we dropped off at 8:45-8:50am. They know we hang out in town because of the long drive, and they’ve always made a point to do our cats quickly because of that.
Not this time!
When I found out the cats hadn’t been started yet, I told them that I had a scheduled appointment. I was assured the cats would be read by 4. I explained, it’s not just the appointment, but that I was needing to drop the cats of at home in our little hamlet, then drive to one town to pick up a wheelchair (forget cleaning out the fridge, at this point!) and take it to the hospital in yet another town.
I was told they would try to get them done as soon as possible.
So we sat to wait.
Next to a couple of adorable kittens in a cat cage that were available for adoption. While there, a tech came to get them and return them several times, and we learned that they were about to be adopted out together! So glad they are staying together.
It was about quarter past three when a tech came out. They were about to start on Sir Robin the Brave, but he had messed himself in the carrier (they’ve been in carriers all this time?? They usually get transferred to larger cages!), and his back end was a dried up mess. She confirmed that these were outdoor cats and that they would be going outside again, so they would try to wash him off as best they could, rather than just shave the area. Easier and faster to shave, but no one wants to risk him getting frostbite on his nethers!
Which means they didn’t actually start the surgery until probably half past three.
We could hear the techs talking at one point, probably while still trying to wash off Sir Robin, and heard them giggle with delight over his full name.
Then we waited.
When 4:00 came and went, I was messaging my brother to warn him I might be late.
Finally, at about 4:20, someone came out to let us know the cats were done. Still groggy, but awake enough that we could take them. We got the instructions (we’ll keep them in the isolation shelter for at least 3 days) and the carriers were brought out. I’d already left the donation funds with the front desk when we checked them in, so we could leave immediately. My daughter and I loaded the carriers and were on our way.
Thankfully, by this time, the winds had died down a little bit, and there wasn’t as much blowing snow. I was able to do the speed limit for most, not all, of the drive.
Once we got home, my daughter got out to open the gate, but left it open for me as I drove into the yard and up to the house. I started unloading our shopping just to the front steps until my daughter caught up and helped me. Once the truck box was empty, we unloaded the carriers. Then my daughter took over while I headed back out again.
I just barely made it in time.
I had just parked at the hospital when I got a message from my brother. They had just arrived themselves, were set up in a family room for the meeting, and told me where it was.
The doctor was a few minutes later, so we had time to catch up and focus on what we were trying to find out, etc.
At one point, my SIL asked, how do we respond if they try to send my mother home again?
My answer was simple.
No.
That’s it. Just, no. They can’t send her home. Homecare is not reliable, and I can’t be driving that distance – especially in winter! – to cover for them so often.
Thankfully, that never became an issue.
The doctor came in and actually recognized us, from when my mother was in the hospital almost a year ago. There was a nurse as well, who was also the note taker for the hospital (my brother took his own notes, of course. He’s very organized that way).
We had a very good and, I would even say productive, meeting.
One thing is clear. The left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing.
They knew nothing about the panels done by home care – I was there for both of them, including the one that was done before my mother went to the hospital – even though the report would have gone up to the same department the hospital has to go through when it comes to long term care assessment. He was able to let us know what was found in my mother’s X-rays that were finally done, though it wasn’t “official” since the radiology department still had to review them. As expected, she has severe osteoarthritis. That’s the source of her pain. He did not have access to my mother’s MRI brain scan results, but he could work on getting them.
We were very confused when he started talking about my mother’s congenital heart disease as the cause of her edema, when she’s been seen by a cardiologist, and her heart checked out better than most people a quarter her age.
Oh, wow. I just went out to meet the prescription delivery driver. That wind out there is BRUTAL!!!
Where was I?
Oh, yes.
So the doctor explained that they use the term “congenital heart disease” to cover a lot of things. In my mother’s case, it’s her A-fib, which she’s had forever (I have it, too). It has never been a problem. Now, however, he basically described it as the upper chambers of her heart being in a constant quiver, while the lower chambers are pumping normally, when it used to be just a little hiccup now and then. To put it simply, her heart is getting tired and misfiring more. This is what my father got a pace maker for, but she’s not at that stage. It didn’t come up as an option, though; we all know that at her age, surgery would be a greater risk than the A-fib is right now. That her heart is otherwise strong and healthy and all her arteries are clear helps, but it won’t stop the edema.
In the end, my mother has two issues going that mean she can no longer go back to her apartment to live independently, even with home care. There’s the edema, and the OA, and right now, the OA is causing her so much pain and reducing her mobility, it’s actually the more severe issue.
Then he had to get our consent (which they already got from my mother) to do a panel for my mother to go to a personal care home.
…
YES!!!!
Good grief. We’ve begging for this from the start.
So the official hospital testing and paperwork will be done and go to the department that makes the decisions. Because 1) my mother’s level of care doesn’t need hospital status, 2) she’s bored out of her tree and 3) they need the bed for more urgent patients, my mother will probably be transferred to a temporary long term care facility – she may even be back in the same town her apartment is in! – before being transferred to the nursing home she’s been trying to get into for the past 2 years or so. Even then, she might get transferred to a different one before she get get into the one she wants. Once she’s in a long term care facility, even a temporary one, there will be more programs and activities available to her, so she won’t be stuck sitting in her room, day after day.
We did also have a chance to discuss some other issues related to our vandal and that he might try to convince my sister to help him manipulate my mother. He’d managed to do this with my late father. Right now, the one thing protecting my mother from her own self sabotage is that my brother has binding PoA, so even if she is declared mentally unfit, he can take care of her. They already understand that, at this point, cognitively she cannot make things like legal decisions on her own, but they will get her officially tested and assessed, so that there is documentation. This way, even if they do convince her to sign something, it won’t be legally binding. My mother, with my sister’s help (“I was just following her wishes”, was her explanation) has already messed herself up so badly in other areas, she has no clue what she’s done and, legally, my brother can’t fix it. They also want photos of our vandal and my sister to have with my mother’s file, so they can recognize them as people with limited access to my mother.
I’m so disappointed that my sister got manipulated into it, and is completely oblivious to the harm she has helped cause. Honestly, I have concerns about my sister’s cognitive health, too. But she’s skinny, and we all know skinny people are perfectly healthy and never have such problems, even if she is almost 70.
Yeah, I’m being sarcastic, but that is essentially what I’ve been told flat out, in different ways.
So then we got to talking about my mother’s apartment. She’s not going back, we know that, but until the panel process officially declares that, it’s recommended we don’t end that contract yet. However, it’s basically 99.99% sure the panel application will accept that she needs to be in a personal care home, so go ahead and start packing. We can basically cancel her services while we pack and empty the apartment, little by little, so that once that official word comes through (and we don’t know how long that will be), all we would need to do is cancel her rental agreement with public housing.
That all done, we parted ways, then went to visit my mother. She was very surprised to see us (we learned my sister did visit earlier, as today is her non-sabbath related day off), and happy, too. Which was a nice change.
The visit was… about as good as can be. She was in a good mood and I think her pain levels are under control, as she had only a few “moments”. We updated her on the status of things, as best we could. We explained the importance of her accepting any transfer they offer her, because it’s part of the whole process of getting her where she wants to be.
Which was when she started talking about “going home”. Meaning, her apartment.
*sigh*
We had to go over that with her again. I expect we’ll have to do it many more times. The doctor, thankfully, is quite aware of her self sabotage. Sadly, this is something they encounter quite a bit.
While talking about temporary long term care and getting her to where she wants to be, she told us about someone that was across the hall from her. He was doing very poorly, they had to wrap his legs, there was always someone having to tend to him…
He just got transferred to the nursing home my mother wants to be in.
She was upset that he got in before she did.
…
We had to explain (again) that people who get taken to nursing homes more suddenly, it’s because they’re not expected to live long. People who are in far worse shape than she is in.
Her complete lack of empathy threw us, even though she does it all the time.
Things got off track a few times, but that did give me a chance to bring out a gift I got for my mother.
My mother has always loved to draw and is really quite good. She doodles all over. So I got her this.
An actual sketch pad, rather than the envelopes and scrap paper she’s been using, with tear off pages, and colouring pencils that don’t need to be sharpened. She already has pen and pencil.
I know it’s harder for her, with her vision getting worse, but she might have some good days and feel up to it. Or just be bored enough to try!
I honestly expected her to be angry, as she usually is when I try to give her things, but she was actually almost nice about it. She just commented on how she can’t really draw anymore, but we encouraged her.
We talked about her apartment, and she started telling us what to do with things. We had to reassure her, she didn’t have to worry about the “stuff”, we would take care of them, and we know she doesn’t want things thrown out (unless they are damaged or broken or course).
By the time we headed out, it was coming up on 8pm. I’d left home around 7:30, had breakfast somewhere before 9:30, and the only thing I’d eaten since then was a handful of cashews and a chocolate bar we’d picked up as road munchies, on the way home from picking up the neutered cats. I had hoped to stop somewhere to eat before going home, but it was so late and I was so tired, I just got some gas and headed home.
Just as I pulled up to the last stop sign, a couple of miles from home, the check engine light on the truck turned on.
*sigh*
I wasn’t about to check on it when I got home. My daughters, sweethearts that they are, had hot food almost ready for me by the time I got in.
What a long, long day, and I didn’t get anywhere near as much done as I had hoped.
I got to bed early (for me, anyhow), and woke up to this.
Yeah, that’s -31C/-24F with a wind chill of -46C/-51F
It could be worse. Some areas of our province were warned of wind chills of -50C/-58F.
That’s what I saw before heading outside to do the cat stuff, skipping most of my morning routine. By the time I got back inside, the temperature had dropped to -32C/-26F. When I headed out to meet the pharmacy delivery guy, it was back to -31C/-24F with the wind chill at -45C/-49F
The outside cats got their kibble and warm water. Even the heated water bowl in the sun room had some ice on top, and the one in the isolation shelter had frost on the edge closest to the window!
The isolation cats were all snuggled together in the cat bed. Last night, my daughter let out the “extras” that wanted to be let out, so there are now four teenagers in there right now. While I was doing the kibble and water, my older daughter gave the isolation cats a couple of cans of wet cat food. The benefits of being locked up in there is special food treats, which won’t freeze before they finish eating it.
It was still at -32C/-26F when I headed out again in the late morning. I got the truck going – it started fine and nothing sounds out of the ordinary – to get the OBDII scanner hooked up. I got the same code as last time; air-fuel ratio imbalance. Top recommendation is to replace the oxygen sensor. The other code concerns me more, though; power mode master input circuits mismatch. The top reported fix for that is replacing the ignition switch, while the next frequently reported fix is, replaced ignition switch wiring harness.
I’ve sent screen caps of the scans to our garage. I’m not as concerned about the O2 sensor. That seems to be temperature related, as it went away on its own, last time. Both code frequencies are listed as “common” for our truck’s make and model. I’ve looked up the parts and they don’t seem to be expensive, though these wouldn’t be local prices.
*sigh*
We really don’t need this. It’s the price of having an older, high mileage vehicle, but it was what we could afford and get financing for. Still, I’m so tired of these sensor issues – which apparently GM is notorious for.
Thankfully, we won’t need to go anywhere for several days. Today is supposed to be the worst for both cold and wind. Things are supposed to be a bit warmer, but still brutal, over the next three days. After that, we’ll have more average temperatures, with highs hovering above and below -20C/-4F.
Interestingly, the long range forecast is showing a whole lot of days above freezing, in February! February is usually colder than January. At least in the first couple of weeks. If the forecasts are in any way accurate, today and the next few days will be the last deep freeze of this winter.
I sure hope they are right. I so feel for the people that have to drive and work outside in these temperatures! Not to mention the critters out there. I’m glad we can at least provide some worth and reliable food and water for the yard cats – and whatever creature cleaned out every crumb of kibble in the catio shelter!
I am so done with winter.
The Re-Farmer
The Re-Farmer 