I apologize for taking the past week off from blogging. I have been preoccupied with a personal family illness. For the past week, my mother has been in the hospital in South Carolina. Her condition started out as bronchitis, which became pneumonia, and exacerbated her asthma and heart conditions. Since last Thursday, she has been in ICU and on a ventilator. I certainly don't want to use this forum to exploit my mother's condition in any way. However, I have gleaned a few lessons from this experience, which I would like to pass along to future health care professionals.

When I first arrived at the hospital in South Carolina last week, my mother was in pretty bad shape. She was having difficulty breathing, was mentally altered, and had pulled all of her wires and tubes out the night before in her confused, oxygen-deprived state. My dad looked like he had been hit by a truck. My mom has had a series of health problems during her 69 years, but she has always pulled through them. My father has always trusted her doctors to take good care of her. My main objective was to make sure my dad and I had all the information about her condition to make the necessary decisions. So, when any physician or nurse visited my mother, I asked them as many questions as I could think of: What do those numbers mean? What is in that tube? Why is she acting this way? Why isn't she getting enough oxygen? What medicines are you giving her? Etc. Of course, I'm not a doctor, and I certainly couldn't fully comprehend their responses, but I wanted to know that they could provide an answer to my questions. I wanted them to know that I expected them to keep us informed, to check on her every day, and to provide us with a full report.

My first lesson is this: Family members need information. Don't be afraid to give them full explanations and take the time to answer all of their questions. Many times, health care providers are too busy rushing to their next patient to take the time to make sure each patient and family is fully informed. Fortunately, all of my mother's doctors took the time to talk to my dad and I and, as a result, we trusted them so much more.

My second lesson is this: Don't be afraid to give family members bad news or the hard truth. I know that weaning a patient off of a vent is not a simple process, particularly someone with my mother's health history. When I asked one of the nurses about this, she said "Oh, we do it every day and it shouldn't be a problem." While I certainly hope that is the case, I think my dad immediately thought it would be a piece of cake. If it is difficult, I'm not sure if he will be prepared for it. So, even when you want to comfort a family member, I think it is always better to arm them with the facts. The family will feel better if they have confidence in you, but they will also appreciate your honesty.

My final lesson is this: Every one of your patients is somebody's mother or father or brother or sister or son or daughter. As a health care provider, you may have hundreds of patients in a given day. I only have one mother. So many of the physicians and nurses who have treated my mom this past week have followed this guideline and have treated her like one of their own family members. I have seen them gently rinse out her mouth and massage her arms. Even though she is fully sedated and unconscious, they have held her hand and spoken kindly to her. My family has entrusted my mother's care to a wonderful health care team and, whatever the outcome, knowing that they are caring for her as best they can will bring us comfort.

If you are so inclined, I certainly appreciate you keeping my mom in your thoughts. Her lung and oxygen numbers improved yesterday, so we are hoping to be able to start weaning her off the vent sometime this week. I'm back at work, but my brother and dad are staying by mom's side and I'm heading back as soon as I can. Thanks for indulging me this blog entry. You are joining a truly noble profession of health care, and I admire you for wanting to help others.