My mom is in the hospital. She went in Sunday for an appendectomy (which is good, because her appendix had already ruptured), and has had kind of an up and down recovery since. She was getting better, then worse, then better again. They were going to send her home today, if she tolerated breakfast and lunch OK, but instead, she was sent to the ICU this morning. Her oxygen levels had dropped over night, and they wanted to observe/figure out what the problem was.
That was scary enough, because she (and her whole side of the family), has a history of blood clots, which was what actually killer *her* father. Then again, she is, as always, on blood thinners, so I guess I shouldn’t have been too worried about that.
What they did find is that she has a bowel obstruction. Who knew that could make oxygen levels fall?!? Anyway, she doesn’t know how long she’s going to be in the ICU/hospital–they definitely want to get the problem taken care of, but the doctor doesn’t know how long that will take.
The thing I’m having a hard time getting past is that she’s in the same hospital my dad died in. In the same ICU. For all I know, in the same freaking room. Oh yeah, and what sent him to that hospital in the first place was basically a bowel obstruction. Now, my head knows that the circumstances were wildly different, it wasn’t the actual obstruction that killed him, and that it’s good that they caught this now, before she went home, and before anything else has a chance to rupture. But this whole situation still doesn’t sit well with me. Too much deja vu for my liking.