Hubby is not doing well at all. Things seem to be going downhill rapidly and we are both thoroughly frightened by the fact that he can't seem to recover and no one really understands what is happening.
We know for a fact that the A Fib has progressed but can still be controlled. We know that his heart rate is still way too fast when he's moving around but at rest he approaches normal. We know that we can control his blood pressure -- though when he feels rotten it does climb. Frankly, I'm letting the diabetes take care of itself -- I can only get him to eat low salt OR low sugar, and right now the low salt is more important.
What we can't seem to get a grip on is the nasal / throat congestion that makes him feel like he is drowning. The minute he tries to rest, or God forbid go to sleep, he begins this awful hacking and clearing of his throat -- and he becomes unable to get words out or breathe easily. Immediately his blood pressure and heart rate climb, as he becomes less and less able to breathe easily.
I'm convinced the super-duper drug dosages are giving him bad dreams and now whenever he goes into even a light sleep, he starts to talk. The night before last he kept telling us (dogs and me) "get in the back seat." Last night he kept dreaming about shoes, probably because on Wednesday I went out and bought two pairs of very expensive and ugly shoes to get me through the winter. Now that I'm dog walking daily, I need shoes that don't have mesh tops. Anyway, Hubby has taken to talking quite loudly, sometimes incoherently but more and more he makes sense -- and he keeps it up all night long. It's hard for the rest of us to get any sleep with all the hacking, coughing, wheezing, and yelling going on in the bedroom.
Today he's got the upset stomach. Yesterday around 4 p.m. he rallied a bit and we went for drive. But Thursday and Friday he spent all day in bed. Today we're back to the bed, moaning while watching hours upon hours of college football and heading for the bathroom on a regular basis.
All the while, he's refusing to do much of anything for himself. He just lost the TV's remote control in the bed and called me to find it for him. What? He couldn't sit up to find the remote he was using? At noon he decided he needed to eat -- but the Salisbury steak I had fixed yesterday, especially for him, would not do. He needed more tuna fish salad. Luckily I had the eggs already hard boiled.
We had multiple doctor appointments for this week. I'm praying we get some answers. Frankly, we're reaching the end of our proverbial rope(s).