The Wayback Machine

Jane thinks the year is 2007. She's not kidding, either.

When I visited yesterday, she never called me by name, but she did recognize me. There were issues throughout the visit, in that she said she needed me to take her into the bathroom. When I asked her if she could walk there, she said 'sure, let's find out.' Meanwhile, she was slumped over in her bed, unable to move the bed to a desired position despite the controls being within reach. She did not use her arms (which are perfectly fine) to prop her body up.

She hasn't been eating. The few teeth that haven't fallen out are noticeably wiggling. The requested Whopper junior (that the nurse said she could have only due to 'quality of life' concerns, remained uneaten in that hour visit). She complained after a visitor from the nursing home left that 'everyone seems to think they're my friend.' At that point, I didn't realize that in her world, some things were very different.

She thinks Mom is still alive.
She thinks she lives in Arkansas.
She thinks she hurt herself at work.

A peek at the IV drips told me she's on an antibiotic that got fast track FDA approval a few years ago to replace the Vancomycin that she's got a resistance to. So now, she truly is on the drug of last resort, Tigecycline. The warnings give me pause, since it's not recommended in patients with skin infections or diabetic foot infections. Jane has both, as the MRSA is all over her legs below the knees and her feet are covered with a handful of necrotic skin patches the size of peas. (I'd take pictures, but they're pretty gross).

The only positive to the visit is that I signed the paperwork for her to get the debridement Monday. I'm not sure how well that will go.

A friend said this rapid decline in cognitive functioning means the infection may have reached her brain. I don't know much about that, but I do plan to speak to the doctors to get the straight story on what's going on and what the prognosis is expected to be.

It's definitely not good.


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