Mom has been sick since about Friday last week. I was concerned but she was still acting like Mom. However, when I called her on Tuesday, she didn't sound like she was breathing right. I quizzed her pretty hard, but she insisted she was okay, she thought she was over the hump and needed to get her energy back. Then, DH calls her on Wednesday, calls me and says he's concerned about her breathing. I said enough was enough and called our family PCP, who gave me a 4:00 appointment for her. Then called Mom and told her I was picking her up at 3:30 to take her in. She didn't argue with me.
When I picked her up, my heart sank you guys. I seriously considered just taking her to the hospital, but I knew if she needed to be admitted, the PCP could do that faster than the ER. She was super pale, her skin looked like tissue paper, couldn't speak w/out coughing and moving super slow. Get to the appointment and she has a temp of almost 103 and heart rate of 126 bpm.
So, she has pneumonia. But, we caught it right before the NP insisted she go into the hospital. She had a breathing treatment right then and immediately looked much better (color coming back into her face) and started breathing better. Then they gave her a steroid shot and one of those nasty antibiotics shots. Poor mom, she was so sick and so exhausted that she just started crying. I kept it all together and the NP gave me a huge hug and said that if I'd let her wait another 24 hours she would've been headed to the hospital in the ambulance. Dad's having a pretty good guilt trip, but honestly, she was in bed and even if he had asked her, she would've insisted (like she did to me) that she was going to be okay and to leave her alone. I can boss her around pretty good w/out getting too much grief since I get to go home afterwards...Dad has to live with her and he would've gotten grief.
She's sooo much better this morning and is sleeping w/out pain which is good. I had to call and wake her up twice in the middle of the night for her inhaler treatment which I was hesitant about doing, but did anyway.
Apparently, my super powers are walking drunk in stilettos and bossing the hell out of my mother.
