Tag Archives: elder

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What to check before bringing your elder home from the hospital

I get a call from the hospital (this is over a year ago). They say, “Your friend is ready for discharge. What time can you pick her up?”

I reply, “Can she walk?”

“What?”

“She has three steps up into her house. Can she walk, because otherwise I can’t get her into her home.”

“Oh, uh, we will check.”

They call me back. “She can’t walk. She’ll have to stay another day.”

I knew that she couldn’t walk before they called. She could barely walk before the surgery and after anesthesia, surgery and a night in the hospital, her walking was worse. She had been falling 1-5 times at home and the surgeon knew that. He did not take it into account. The staff would have delivered her to my car in a wheelchair and then it would have been my problem.

She was confused by that afternoon, which is not uncommon in older people after anesthesia. She stayed in the hospital for six days and then went to rehab, because she still couldn’t walk safely.

Recently I have a patient, an elder, that I send to the emergency room for possible admission. He is admitted and discharged after two and a half days. Unfortunately he can barely walk and his wife is sick as well. The medicare rules say that he needs 72 hours in the hospital before he qualifies for rehab. We scramble in clinic to get them Home Health services, with a nurse check and physical therapy and occupational therapy, and I ask for Meals on Wheels. It turns out that Meals on Wheels will be able to deliver in two months.

The wife refuses to go to the emergency room. I tell her that if she does get sicker, that they both need to check in. The husband can barely walk and is not safe home alone. If one gets hospitalized, they both need it.

If you have a frail elder, be careful when you are called about discharge. Go look at them yourself, make sure that you see that they can get out of bed, get to the bathroom, walk up and down the hall. Can they eat? Do you have steps into your house or theirs and can they go up the steps? I got away with saying please check that my friend could walk because I am a physician, because I knew she couldn’t and because there was no one else to pick her up. Do NOT ask your elder. They may want nothing more than to go home and they may well exaggerate what they can do or be firmly in denial. You want them to be safe at home, to not fall, to not break a hip and to not be bedridden.

For an already frail elder, even two and a half days in bed contributes to weakness. And being sick makes them weaker. If they are barely walking when they are admitted, it may be worse even after just 2-3 days. I used to write for physical therapy evaluation and exercise when elder patients were admitted, to help them for discharge. Once I got a polite query from physical therapy saying, “This patient is on a ventilator. Do you still want a consult?” I reply, “Yes, please do passive range of motion, thank you!”

Your elder does not have to be doing rumbustious dancing before they go home, but they need to be able to manage stairs, manage the bathroom, manage walking so that they can get stronger. Otherwise a stay in a nursing home or rehabilitation facility may be much safer for everyone.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rumbustious.


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Free agent

The Agency contacted me yesterday.

“Yes?” I say.

“Are you free?” Dispatch always sounds so disinterested.

“Yes, I’m free.” I try not to sound annoyed. I am too good at my job. I’ve given up on dating. This frees me up for the Agency.

“Room two.”

Room two has a woman who looks frozen. I introduce myself, a stranger, her previous person left.

“Are you sleeping?”

“No. Well, I fall asleep but then I wake up. Nightmares and my heart beats so fast. Then I can’t go back to sleep.”

“Did something happen?”

Her face tightens all over. She wants to tell me but not let the emotions out. “A scam!” Now the dam is cracking and falling apart. The story comes out bit by bit. “They opened an account in my name! Took out a loan! I am so scared. And ashamed. We could lose the house.” Not many tears. She won’t let them.

“Ok, I think this is a PTSD reaction. The not sleeping is really common. Can you talk to your husband?”

“I’ve snapped at him! We never fight! Forty two years!”

The monsters are visible now. Clinging to her, but some are coming to cling to me. Fear, shame, grief, anxiety, fatigue. They aren’t really that big, because she has been a careful person, a wise person. But this has cracked her open because she never expected it.

“Have you contacted the authorities?” We talk about what she has done, the practical bits. She has already made wise moves. It’s the feelings that are upsetting her.

We pick something for sleep, a low dose, not one of the newer addictive ones. An antidepressant that will hopefully make her sleepy. Close follow up is even more important, to be sure that she is starting to comfort the monsters. Many of the monsters are crying for her. I think they will be ok.

She is more comfortable before she leaves. She brought the feelings out and I was not horrified and I did not shame her. They weren’t so bad after all, when she brought them out in the light of day. It’s when they are fighting to be felt and heard that they feel so dark and dangerous and frightening.

I leave the room. She will be back in a week, sooner if she needs to. One of her monsters smiles at me tremulously as it clings to her. I smile back and nod. I think they will be ok.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: agency.

I write this and then start humming. Yes, this is the right song.


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No, really!

No, really! I am a mature adult! I swear! My inner child has grown up!

Well, maybe not at the end of October.

My friend P took the photographs with my phone in 2022.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: maturity.

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Driving Lily

I was driven yesterday. I have an ill friend. She is currently in a “rehab”, aka “nursing home”, in Sequim. I drive 40 minutes to be with her at an hour appointment. Afterwards we check in at the nursing home and then I drive her back to her house, 40 minutes again. That is where Lily is. Lily is her cat. My friend was in the hospital for six days and now the “rehab” for two weeks. My friend wants to go home. Lily is miserable. She misses her person and hisses and swipes at me. I was driven to take my friend to see her cat.

Lily let me pet her yesterday because I brought her person home. However, the whole thing was a near disaster. My friend has been trying to get stronger, but she is not stronger. She is weaker. She has three steps into her house. We were there for about three hours. She sat to wash the cat’s bowl in the kitchen sink and Lily was very very happy to be near her. My friend was then tired enough that we had real difficulty getting her out of the house and back in the car. I used a bath stool to let her stop and sit about every four feet. She was using a walker, but could barely walk. She sat in the doorway of the house and talked about crawling. However, those muscles in your upper legs? Those are some of the biggest muscles in the body, and if you can barely walk, scooting or crawling is not feasible either.

We made it to the car without having to call an ambulance. I’m pretty strong for my age and size, but I’m not strong enough to carry her alone.

Poor Lily. I don’t think I dare try to get her in a cat carrier and she’d probably cry all the way driving and anyhow, the nursing home would need a shot record.

Lily will have to put up with my care for now.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: driven.

I am not my friend’s doctor, I am just a friend.

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Elder care: stairs

Most of us do NOT live in homes practical for aging. My house has four steps in the front and five in the back to get in and out. The main floor has almost everything needed if I cannot climb a flight of stairs: only the laundry is in the basement.

I am helping a friend in her 80s. The issue, from my practical and pragmatic Family Medicine standpoint, is that she is falling. She told me that she was falling, five times in a day, in November. I got involved right away, because she had a surgery canceled because of it. She has three specialists and a primary. I called them all and took her to the emergency room first and then to her primary.

We asked her primary for disabled parking and for home health services. In Washington State, if you can’t leave your house except to the store or the doctor, you qualify for home health. I also fussed about her blood pressure, but her primary thought she was fine.

The thing is, we should not always have a blood pressure goal of 130 or less systolic once we hit 75 or 80. With weight loss, people can drop a blood pressure point for each 2 pounds lost. The blood pressure range that is safer at age 75 or 80 is to keep it around 140-150, unless the person has heart disease or congestive heart failure. Over 150 is getting too high. The brain must get good oxygen by blood flow and if it doesn’t, there are sensors in our neck that make us faint. That can be a full on loss of consciousness, or just a decrease and drop to the floor. There are some instances where the blood pressure still needs to be kept down at 125-130 systolic: bad coronary artery disease and congestive heart failure especially. But being able to stand up and walk is rather important to elder health.

The distraction for my friend’s physicians is that she has had cancer for three years. We are told that she needs an MRI of her head to rule out brain tumors, metastases from her cancer. Yes, brain tumors can cause falls, so that does need to be ruled out. My friend only falls when standing, sometimes at the counter, gets lightheaded and once has had a full on syncope. No chest pain or heart racing.

It took two months to get the brain MRI, which is negative. We saw her oncologist this week and I pushed for her cardiologist to see her sooner than June. He saw her yesterday. She is on medicine for a heart arrhythmia, but it doesn’t sound like her arrhythmia is acting up. He’s still checking: a monitor and heart ultrasound, but meanwhile he says, “I don’t tell many people this, but you need to drink more fluid and eat more salt.”

“They told me low salt. I stopped salt when I cook.”

“Start salt again and more fluid and return in 3 weeks.” She has been falling 1-5 times a day in her home. She lives alone. She is stubbornly resisting leaving her home and I am ok with that. But, it would be most helpful for her health if she was not falling. That is the priority here. She will not live forever, but she wants to stay in her home. Let’s help with that.

I am NOT saying that everyone over 75 should increase salt. If a person has bad hypertension, or heart disease, or congestive heart failure, they should not increase salt unless their doctor has a specific reason. And heart is the number one killer, so there are lots of people who should continue to eat a low salt diet. But falling and breaking a hip is also a killer.

My friend has three steps to get out of her house. The first day last week that I took her to get labs, she fell three times. “But Jim, I’m a doctor, not a nurse!” Ok, I am not a good nurse. However, we got her back inside after labs and getting the CT scan contrast for her to drink. She has not fallen when I have gotten her in or out since. I’ve had to enlist help twice, since she’s taller than me. Going down the steps is worse than going up. Home health is doing physical therapy and she has a raised seat on her commode. That is good, except those are the muscles that help us go up and down stairs. She has a walker too. She is still falling, because to cook, one has to let go of the walker, right?

So if someone wants to stay at home, think about the home. Are there steps? How strong is the person? Do they have the resources to pay for around the clock care if they become bedridden? I am practicing getting down on the floor and back up every single day, because I want to be strong. I have an upstairs and a basement, and I am going to continue with stairs for as long as possible. If I break my leg, those four front stairs are going to be an issue, but I am thinking about it. Perhaps I should design a decorative ramp, or a sloping earth entry.

Will the house accomodate a wheelchair? Is there a bathroom and a bedroom, as well as the kitchen, on the main floor? Is there clutter? I know I am supposed to keep the floors clear to reduce fall risk. I had one person who kept falling at night because he wouldn’t turn on a light. “It would wake my wife and disturb her,” he said. “It will disturb her more if you break your hip.” I said. “Turn on a light or a flashlight or something.”

Harvard Medicine agrees: https://www.health.harvard.edu/staying-healthy/master-the-stairs

Be careful out there. Or maybe in there.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Elder care can’t be laissez-faire.

The photograph is not my friend. This is Tessie Temple, my maternal grandfather’s mother. I do not have a date nor who took the photograph. Another photograph is stamped on the back: Battle Creek. She must have gone to one of the famous sanatoriums, like Kellogg’s, for rest or the cures.

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Forever or not?

Once someone has cancer, do they have it forever?

I think that is a complex question. But one example comes to mind.

An older woman, in her early eighties, is seeing me. She wants to go back on hormone replacement.

“But you have a history of breast cancer.” I say.

“That was six years ago. And I took that horrible tamoxifen for 5 years and I still am having hot flushes after a year off it and I am sick of it. Give me hormones.”

“Hmmm.” I say. “Let me do some research.”

I call the oncology group south of us. This is over ten years ago when we had no oncologists in our county.

“How old is she?” Her oncologist is digging up her records. “Ok, got her. Hmmm. Well, she had a stage one cancer and a lumpectomy and five years of tamoxifen. THAT cancer is gone, for sure. If she wants hormone replacement, it puts her at a bit more risk for a new breast cancer, but the old one is gone. As long as she understands the risk.”

My patient is back and we negotiate. “Ok, the oncologist says your previous cancer is truly gone, but hormones put you at risk for a new breast cancer. At least, raise your risk a little.” Age is the biggest risk in women, if they do not have the abnormal BRCA I or II genes. “Also, if we have you on hormones, you have to do your mammogram, because I’d want to catch any cancer early. That’s the deal.”

“Fine, I want the hormones.” She signs a consent that I’ve prepared and we put her back on her hormone replacement.

“I want to hear from you, ok? Whether it works?”

She calls in a week, delighted. “No more hot flushes! I feel great!”

__________

I took the photograph at Mats Mats Bay last week. There is a sign about osprey nests. I look up and think, oh, yes! Pretty obvious if you look up!

__________

I don’t remember her exact age and I don’t remember if the five years was tamoxifen or one of the other hormone blockers. She could have been in her seventies. At first I thought, no way back on hormones! Then I thought, quality of life is important. Maybe I choose this photograph because the nest is out on a limb.

Some cancers ARE currently forever, especially those that are stage III or IV and metastatic. Maybe they won’t always be forever.

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Admitting diagnosis: old guy, don’t know

I wrote this in 2010, after I worked for three months at Madigan Army Hospital. I really enjoyed working there. It was the first time since residency that I had worked in a big hospital — 450 beds — and in a not rural setting. I kept asking to work with residents and eventually the Captain and I worked it out to both our satisfactions.

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During my three months temp job at a nearby Army Hospital, I am asked to help the Family Medicine Inpatient Team (FMIT) whenever a faculty member is sick or out or deployed, which turns out to be fairly often. I enjoy this because I want to work with residents, Family Practice doctors in training. It is very interesting to be at a training program, watch the other faculty and work at a 400 bed hospital instead of my usual 25 bed one.

Two patients need to be admitted at the same time on our call day, so the second year resident takes one and I take the other. The report on mine is an 82 year old male veteran, coughing for three weeks, emergency room diagnosis is pneumonia.

The resident soon catches up with me because her person is too sick and gets diverted to the ICU. Mr. T, our gentleman, is a vague historian. He says that he has always coughed since he quit smoking 15 years ago and he can’t really describe his problem. He’d gotten up at 4:30 to walk around the assisted living; that is normal for him because he still does some o the maintenance. He had either felt bad then or after going back to sleep in a chair and waking at 10. “I didn’t feel good. I knew I shouldn’t drive.”

He’s had a heart attack in the past and heart bypass surgery. Records are vague. The radiologist reads the chest xrays essentially as, “Looks just like the one 3 months ago but we can’t guarantee that there isn’t a pneumonia or something in there.” He has a slightly elevated white blood cell count, no fever, and by then I do a Mini-mental status exam. He scores 22 out of 30. That could mean right on the edge of moderate dementia, or it could be delirium. I get his permission to call his wife.

“Oh, his memory has been bad since he spent a year in a chair telling them not to amputate his toes. And he was on antibiotics the whole time. He wasn’t the same after that. This morning he just said he didn’t feel right and that he shouldn’t drive.” So his wife called an ambulance.

The third year chief resident comes by and wants to know the admitting diagnosis. “Old guy, don’t know.” is my reply. “Either pneumonia or a urinary tract infection or a heart attack maybe with delirium or dementia or both.

The second year is helping me put in the computer orders, because I am terrible at it still. She could put them in upside down and asleep. “Why are we admitting him, anyhow? We can’t really find anything wrong, why not just send him home?”

“We can’t send him home because he can’t tell us what’s wrong. He might have an infection but he might not, and he has a really bad heart. If we send him home and he has a heart attack tonight, we would feel really bad. And he might die.”

I was getting a cold. I had planned to ask to work a half day but half the team was out sick so I just worked. But by morning I had no voice and felt awful. I call in sick.

At noon the phone rings. It is the second year. “You know Mr. T, who we admitted last night?”

“Yes,” I say.

“He had that heart attack during the night. Got taken to the cath lab. You made me look really good.” We had worked on the assumption that it could be early in a heart attack though the first labs and the ECG were negative. I had insisted on cardiac monitoring and repeating the enzymes. The resident had finished the note after I left and the night team had gotten the second and abnormal set of enzymes.

82 year olds are tricky. With some memory loss he couldn’t tell us much except that “I don’t feel right.” He was right not to drive and we were right to keep him in the hospital. And if it had all been normal in the morning, I still would not have felt bad about it. The residents are looking for a definitive diagnosis, but sometimes it’s “Old guy, don’t know,” until you do know.