Maloney's before the fire.

Maloney's before the fire that destroyed the abandoned Moss Landing restaurant. The fire, assumed to be arson, be arson, happened yesterday afternoon. It's now too late to return to the site for another photography session. I have a fondness for decrepit buildings with their textures and patinas that make my heart sing.
I'm not a fan of structures formed from glass or steel. Give me a rusty relic full of character, which Maloney's had, and I can spend hours photographing it.

April Recap Continued

Tribute to Celeste - "To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer." Ghandi

Dialysis treatment on Monday, April 18 was fraught with anxiety. Stacy's BP was high and she vomited during treatment, which she never does. (She has been on dialysis since November of 2000. Three treatments a week consisting of 3 hours each. She was diagnosed with End-stage-renal-failure in Oct., 2000. She also has brain damage that happened during a high fever in 1968. Stacy is my "Forever Young" child.)
Tuesday morning she ate breakfast and went back to sleep. I had a hard time waking her and she refused lunch. An hour later when the doctor returned my phone call and we were discussing what to do about the blood pressure meds and vomiting she started to go into a seizure. Dr Chen said, "call 911 and I'll see you later at the hospital."
Happily Steve, EMT, arrived because the police officer who arrived first was of no help! Stacy was vomiting and I couldn't hold her head and get a bowl under her at the same time. (The next day I had quite a mess to clean up!) Either they were slower getting her into the ambulance or I was faster getting my things together because I was able to hitch a ride in the ambulance. I remember a fireman saying to me, "I hope that you're planning on going in the ambulance, because you don't look like you should drive." That was an understatement. I hadn't recuperated since the last crisis plus the daily worry of knowing how bad she was had taken its toll.
Stacy's BP was again off of the charts so I assumed we were back for another attempt at getting the BP done. But the blood tests came back with the news that she had a bacterial infection! If the infection didn't respond to antibiotic treatment her dialysis catheter would need to be removed and the options for her treatment are limited . . .
The next two days were a wait-and-see time and on Thursday during a time I'd gone home for a nap Mom phoned me at about 3:00 and said, "I'm ill, I hate to have you come back to the hospital so early, but I need to go home." Some how I knew this wasn't going to be a case of Mom just being tired and stressed out but something more. (Mom always sits with Stacy during the days and I get the night shift.) I threw more clothes into my overnight bag, just in case I wouldn't be going home again soon, and rushed to the hospital to find Mom in the bathroom vomiting. I went out to the nurses station and told them that I was taking Mom to the ER and that Stacy would be alone. A volunteer was walking by with a wheel-chair and said that it might be a good idea if I took mom to the ER in it and she'd stay with Stacy.

I don't think I've ever seen the ER so busy and later I heard that it was the night from hell! Somehow I managed to get Mom seen right away and because I wasn't feeling too well myself I signed myself in, but
didn't get seen for 3 hours after Mom who it turned out was very ill with a viral infection and not the same thing as Stacy had. Phew! I have to say that I chose a great ex-husband, Larry, because I phoned him at work and he arrived at 11pm to stay with Stacy while I went home at 1am to sleep. Mom finally got admitted at midnight, 3 hours after I was released and sent back out into the trenches. "I don't think that you have an infection, but you are suffering from exhaustion, but someone needs to take care of Stacy and oversee your Mom's care so we have to hope that you'll be okay." OKAY??!? Was the doctor nuts?! I was having a breakdown of epic proportions! (Mom ended up spending the night on the gurney in a cubicle in short-stay. There wasn't a bed or room available until late the next day.)

An image that keeps flashing into my thoughts is of the ER while I was lying on gurney with an I.V. in my arm knowing that Mom was in a room two doors away and Stacy was in room downstairs scared that I wasn't coming back! That only thing that kept me calm was knowing that Larry was on his way.

Larry was able to stay until Sunday at which time he had to return to work. An hour after he left I found out that Mom was being released and Stacy would be staying until at least Tuesday. I had no idea how to get mom home and settled in and I was not only frustrated but angry that the doctor didn't realize how weak mom still was! I was so rattled that I broke down in front of Stacy's doctor who advised me to call a brother or a sister. I have a brother, but . . . not available. I finally reached a neighbor of mom's at the retiremement community she lives in who said she'd come and get mom and have a wheel-chair ready with a strong man pushing it and they'd get her settled in.

One of the hardest things I've ever done was to put mom in that car and send her home alone knowing that she couldn't take care of herself, but I also knew that I couldn't leave Stacy and then there was the small detail that I was beyond exhausted and all of my chronic symptoms were attacking me. I've never felt so alone!

Later, I was sitting on the cot staring into space when a nurse came in and said that she was on duty until midnight and asked me if I had made plans for a dinner tray? I normally ate at home before I spent the night and hadn't thought about food. She ordered a tray for me and then said that she remembered us from 4 years ago when Stacy had first started dialysis. I vaguely remembered her. We've been in the hospital so many times over the years that it's hard remember who all of the nurses have been, but most of them sure remember my sweet Stacy. Little did I know that the same nurse, Celeste, would help us through the next night as well.

Monday arrived, 6 nights of being in the hospital and Stacy and I were counting on it being the day we might go home. An early morning visit from Dr. Chen had given us hope that after dialysis we could indeed leave! When Robert didn't show up at the expected time I should have known things weren't going to be easy. Being the only dialysis nurse on duty that day he ended up with 2 emergencies before he could get to Stacy. We finally got word that he'd be in setting up the machine at 9pm which turned out to be 9:30. Even if it was too late to go home it was a relief to finally have treatment started. That relief lasted about 15 minutes because if it could go wrong it did! The machine was as tired as the rest of were and refused to run properly. The blood test Robert took at the beginning of treatment was the wrong one. Treatment ended up taking nearly 4 hours and at 1am we were all ready for the nuthouse. The nurses shift had changed, but Celeste had stayed on to help us through everything. She made sure that the right blood test was done and helped Robert get the machine going even if she had no idea what to do. She kept Stacy and I going by just "being there" and once we got word that Stacy needed yet another round of antibiotic she went to the pharmacy and picked up it rather than waiting for it to be delivered. Stacy's I.V. was blown due to the BP cuff taking her BP every 15 minutes during treatment so it was decided the only way to give her the med was through her dialysis catheter which meant that Robert, who had now been on duty since 7am the day before, needed to stay until 2:30am. Stacy burst into tears and I think Robert wanted to join her. Lying on the cot I turned my face toward the wall. The last thing I remember is Celeste turning out the lights in the room and telling us that she'd put the word out not to disturb us for the next few hours and that she'd see us the next night. The next morning arrived five hours later when Stacy's temp. and BP was taken, both of which were down and we could go home!

The memory of Celeste tucking us in for the night not only conjures up warm and fuzzy feelings, but a realization that even if I've never felt so alone there is always an angel to help make things a little easier.

It would be two weeks before mom was well enough to take Stacy to the clinic for treatment. During that time I needed a chauffeur/friend to drive the two of us to the clinic because my driving skills weren't up to par - exhaustion and depression have a deep hold on me and haven't let go. Stacy's last round of antibiotic is supposed to be on the 20th, one month after the first round.

Recap of March and April

Thankfully it's May! As if the 5 nights we spent in the hospital in March weren't awful enough we had to top that crises with another one in April. Seven long nights and days. I can't seem to move forward until I get rid of some of the experiences we went through. It's like I'm frozen in that time warp. The 12 nights are blended together in my mind without the separation of 3 weeks between the first hospitalization and the last one. Both times I called 911 and both times the same marvelous paramedic arrived. Steve has been here twice before so at least he knows Stacy's history and the last time he was here said, "I''m not liking the blue color she has, I've never seen that before." It's good to know that I wasn't imagining things.
March 24th, my 38th anniversary - that is if I were still married, started out being a day full of tension. Stacy had a headache and was vomiting. Migraine, PMS, dialysis reaction, what?? Nope, a Grand Mall seizure finally alerted us to what was wrong. I always hate to dial 911 because it seems like overkill when a police officer, two firemen and the ambulance arrives. All I ever want is a paramedic and a quick drive to the hospital that an ambulance provides The other thing I hate doing is answering the police officer's inquiry about what meds Stacy takes. There are so many that I just hand a basket full of them to the officer. The next question is always, "Could she have taken too many?" So I stand in the middle of the room, and I'm always in my robe, no matter what time of day it is and tell the story for what will be the first time out of about 10 or so times I'll repeat it during the day.
When Steve took her blood pressure in March it was off the charts and they didn't wait for me to gather some things together and join them in the ambulance!
I don't remember the drive to the hospital but Mom (My second call after 911 is to my mother and she always is waiting at the hospital when we arrive!) told me that I ran across the terrace from the parking garage into the ER and started through the doors in search of Stacy without stopping at the front desk. She was already in a cubicle, vomiting, crying and about ready to have another Grand Mall. I yelled that she was going into another seizure and the savvy nurse ran for a shot of valium. The doctor said, "Oh I don't think so, she looks like she's exhausted from the vomiting." I nearly said, "are you nuts, I know the signs," when the nurse looked at me for confirmation and I nodded a yes and she jammed the needle into the I.V. which promptly stopped the seizure. "I guess maybe she was going," the doctor said. The nurse later told me that she always takes her cues from parents or caregivers.
The BP was 236/115 and stayed there for hours. Of course the first thought everyone had was that Stacy had had a stroke because she was so out of it, but I know how she is after a seizure and continued to believe that I was seeing post-seizure and not something new. Many tests later my belief was right on target.
I had packed an overnight bag and a cot was waiting for me in Stacy's room in the critical care unit where we stayed for 5 nights. She had dialysis treatments in her room by her favorite dialysis R.N. , Robert, who is employed by the dialysis clinic. She was hooked up to so many monitors that it always seemed that someone was in the room checking on them. So much for rest.
On the 29th she was released, against my better judgement, and we went home with 3 new blood pressure meds. For the next 3 weeks her BP refused to budge and remained alarmingly high. I waited for the next
crises to hit and it did!