Hectic week last week! My grandma broke her hip and required surgery. She was very worried about the anesthesia and legitimately thought she would die, but all was relieved when the surgeon reassured her, “there’s always the possibility that we’ll put you to sleep and you’ll never wake up.” Period. It wasn’t a disclaimer to a “we do this all the time and everything will be fine” story. That was all he had to say on the matter and then he left the room, as my uncle muttered “asshole” under his breath. Surgery did go smoothly, and we were all very relieved. Um, that is, until it turned out that the surgeon had made a dumb judgment call and the surgery had to be done all over again. So, repeat, only with my grandma being even less confident and giving us her death bed good-bye as she went into surgery.
There was also a snooty Social Worker who communicated more with eye rolls than with words. My grandma is the nicest person in the world, though a little… extremely chatty and hard-of-hearing. The Social Worker was all sighs and eye rolls and “LIKE I SAIDs” in response to her questions. I’ll admit that I was a little annoyed too, but it’s kind of her job not to be annoyed, you know? The nurses, on the other hand, were really great. They were friendly and helpful and had a ton of patience for my grandma’s unnecessary questions.
Thankfully, my sister-in-law is an OT and very familiar with these procedures. She told me everything she knows about hip replacement surgery, which I appreciated. She also emailed me a terrifying alarmist article about the graphic details of the surgery and potential complications, which I appreciated less, but it was well-intentioned. She actually works at an old folks rehab facility, so I thought she might have some good ideas as to what I should look for or ask when I toured facilities for my grandma. She had two main pieces of advice: 1. Make sure I get a good vibe. 2. Make them show me their latest state inspection papers and how they’ve corrected any negative marks. OK… Except, I think maybe the good vibe would be ruined as soon as I pulled the “SHOW ME YOUR PAPERS!” demand. I’m sure she’d pull it off better.
So now my grandma has successfully been hauled off to a skilled nursing facility (a term that I just learned this week, but which I’m not confident enough to use in actual conversation, opting rather for “rehab place”). I didn’t ask to see their inspection papers, so maybe there’s elder abuse going on behind closed doors, but at least the vibe remains good.
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