Guest post by Joan Borton
My husband, who already had a disability, broke both his femurs in an accident. Surgery was required to implant rods.
When we settled into his hospital room post-surgery, the nurse said he would stay three nights. When I arrived the next morning, the nurse said the social worker met with Jerry and made a discharge plan.
I asked my dear hubby, who was still feeling the effects of anesthesia and pain meds, about the conversation. He remembered someone had come in but was unaware of the plan.
“Why wasn’t I included in the discharge planning?” I asked the social worker.
“I’m only required to talk with the legal guardian.”
She was unfazed that while he’s competent and his own guardian, the medications made him temporarily incompetent.
I explained how I assisted Jerry at home and what I needed to assure I could safely care for him there. Again unfazed, the social worker told me the physical therapist and doctor had already signed off on the plan for release the next day.
For the next twenty-four hours, I prayed and spoke to anyone I found. I told them I would not take him home until he’d at least transferred once from the bed to his wheelchair. “I’m concerned that putting the sling under his thighs will disrupt his surgical sites or the rods. And we don’t know if he can tolerate his wheelchair.”
“We don’t have a lift on the floor and never use them. We can’t help you.”
“That is not a good enough answer,” I said. “Some place in this hospital there’s a lift. You need to find it.”
Eventually, a disgruntled therapist arrived, pushing a lift. Nurses and aides gathered to watch, saying they didn’t know how to use it. “Show us what you’d do at home.”
Amidst their comments of “Wow, good job,” I got the sling underneath Jerry, hooked him to the lift, and moved him to his wheelchair.
Thankfully, his pain was manageable. This and the practice run assured us I could care for him better at home than they could at the hospital. We accepted the discharge plan.
As caregivers, we need to be pleasantly persistent on behalf of ourselves and our loved one. The medical world has expert knowledge, but so do we.
Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt,
so that you may know how you should answer each person.
Colossians 4:6 (CSB)
Joan Borton writes about strengthening families affected by disability. She is an active member of Word-Weavers International and WordGirls. She recently published MarriageAbility: Embracing the Richness of a Marriage Affected by Disability. You can follow her on her Luke14Exchange blog or on her website. She and her husband, Jerry, live in central Florida.
Tracy Crump dispenses hope in her award-winning book, Health, Healing, and Wholeness: Devotions of Hope in the Midst of Illness (CrossLink Publishing: 2021). A former intensive care nurse, she cared for her parents and her mother-in-law and understands both the burdens and joys of caregiving. Her devotions have been featured in Guideposts books, The Upper Room, and many other publications, and she has contributed 25 stories to Chicken Soup for the Soul® books. She also conducts writing workshops, produces a newsletter for writers, and does freelance editing. But her most important job is Grandma to five completely unspoiled grandchildren.
