u/headpeon

I landed in the hospital on 5.28.26 with a BP of 203/97 and a pulse of 43. I did my due diligence before going, and realized - after 3.5 years of feeling like crap - that I had a toxic long term buildup of beta blockers in my system because Welbutrin blocks the pathway the liver uses to excrete Metoprolol from the body.

I'm taking extended release Metoprolol Succ ER, so I knew the bradycardia and hypotension would continue, and probably get worse, which is why I went to the emergency room.

They took my vitals - my heart rate had come up to 60 due to stress and the effort of getting to the hospital - listened to my explanation of the drug interaction I suspected and went off to talk to their pharmacist.

She said Welbutrin and Metoprolol don't interact, that she was sure the situation would resolve itself, and they sent me home.

Where the situation got worse for the next 12 hours.

Little did I know that that was the first of many interactions with medical 'pros' where I wouldn't be believed because the people who should know about this deadly combination of common drugs and how it presents in a HOCM heart literally have no clue, despite it being widely documented, Google-able, and noted in the pharmacology literature from both the FDA and the manufacturer.

Because of neglect on the part of my PCP and cardiologist, and ignorance on the part of multiple pharmacists, ER docs, and another subsequent cardiologist, I'm navigating the healing process - after quitting Welbutrin cold turkey, slashing Metoprolol to half doses, and coming off Losartan Potassium - alone, without medical help.

It's standard for a HOCM patient to spend 5-14 days inpatient with a care team during this process because it involves the up regulation of dopamine receptors, down regulation of beta receptors, and up regulation of angiotensin 2 receptors, all of which can have profound unpredictable effects on a HOCM system.

I don't have that luxury, I've asked to be admitted and got disinterest - I think due to ignorance - in return.

The last part of my healing, the up regulation of the angiotensin 2 receptors, isn't going well. The up regulation is being blocked by constant adrenaline surges.

So if you've read this far and have gone through this process yourself, my questions are:

Were you hospitalized? For how long? How was the condition treated while you were inpatient? Did your healing stall at the same stage mine has? If so, what was done to unstall things, move the process along? Did you experience splanchnic pooling that caused your diet and portions to be ultra strictly controlled? Did you lose significant muscle mass from 3 months of bed rest? Were you prescribed physical therapy to help with the muscle atrophy afterwards?

My sister is an antivaxxer. I cut ties with her during the pandemic for this and other related reasons. She and my Mom are close, and Mom is Dad's primary caregiver. Dad has been diagnosed with LATE, and vascular dementia.

My mother raised 6 kids and every single one of us was vaxxed to the gills. But now, after a worldwide pandemic for hell's sake, my Mom is firmly on the antivax bandwagon due to my sister's influence. My brother, who lives with my folks, has become antivax too.

My Dad, despite my Mom and brother's idiocy, has remained staunchly in support of vaccines, ensuring he got vaxxed appropriately even when my Mom and brother wouldn't.

But now, Dad can't drive anymore. He's losing significant weight, which I've read is a precursor to his immune system taking a nose dive. Since my Mom and brother won't get vaxxed and they are the most likely vectors to get my Dad sick, and his immune system should start tanking just in time for cold and flu season, I want to ensure he's up to date on his shots.

Just talked to Mom about it. She doesn't want Dad vaxxed because she doesn't think the COVID vaccine is efficacious, 'especially now', whatever that means. I mentioned that Dad should start getting an annual flu and pneumonia vaccine since his immune system was becoming more fragile. Thunderous silence.

I can't force my Mom and brother to get vaccinated, but I can make sure my Dad is. It'll require much sneakiness on my part and probably a verbal battle and may divide the family.

I'll do it, fuck them, if they decide to die from measles, or COVID, or suffer from shingles, so be it. I refuse to watch my Dad go out that way.

But I'm wondering, how do we collectively feel about vaccinations for our LOs?

I'm of the opinion that dying from most types of cancer or an infection is better than wasting away in a bed until one can't breathe or swallow. But Dad's quality of life is still pretty good, and he's fun to spend time with, and he seems generally happy. I don't think now is the time to let him pass from a treatable UTI, you know?

I'm trying to decide how hard to fight for Dad's various vaccines. In my book, COVID is a must have, because if I catch it, my chances of dying are high due to a heart condition. For health reasons, I can't be vaxxed for COVID until at least October, which leaves a several month gap between my last COVID vax and my next one.

But flu? Pneumonia? I'm not sure Dad ever got those. I don't.

Thoughts?

Perspectives with the reasoning that led to them would be lovely as whatever course I decide to follow will almost certainly end with me having to defend my actions, and having some ammunition already in the tank, so to speak, would be helpful.

ETA: LATE is an acronym that stands for Limbic predominant Age related TDP-43 Encephalopathy. It's a type of dementia.

ETA: My Dad is not in late stage dementia. He's early stage 5 or late stage 4, I'd guesstimate.

This really is just a rant. I know what I'm going to do about the situation; sit my Mom and brother down separately and guilt trip the ever loving hell out of them. Then add a few personal threats as icing on the proverbial cake.

But I don't want to. I have other things I want to do with my Saturday than ride herd on two grown ass adults who should know better. (My rabbit is having her 3rd surgery in two weeks right now, and I'm stressed enough already.)

The story so far -

On Mother's day, I found out my Mom and brother helped my Dad get the riding lawnmower out of the shed, so he could mow the lawn.

The lawn his occupational therapist said he can no longer mow because at least half of his 3/4 acre property is on a 20% grade and using a riding mower on it is dangerous at the best of times, let alone when the operator has dementia and is blind in one eye.

Dad rolled the riding mower two years ago, ending up with it on top of him. Those things weigh 800 lbs.

That I have to go explain in person to two adults why they should follow the OT's advice because Dad isn't safe on a riding mower boggles my fucking mind.

My Mom's argument? 'He's been mowing that lawn for 35 years, he's fine'.

Well, he drove a car for 70 years but the experts still took his license, so WTF does having mowed the lawn for 35 years have to do with anything?

Also, I'm the only other person who's mowed that lawn on a riding mower. I took care of their yard while they vacationed out of country for a summer. (My brother, who was a professional landscaper, refuses to mow their lawn with a riding mower because he says it's too dangerous.) So to have my Mom - who knows all of the above and has never personally mowed their lawn - tell me it's fine for my Dad to continue to mow is the most asinine thing, ever.

We discussed this all when the occupational therapist yanked Dad's license 3 weeks ago. My Mom said, 'well, no one can find the mower keys anyway'. My brother said, 'Dad can't get the mower out of the shed without my help'. I took these statements to mean that we were all on the same page; no more mowing for Dad.

So when my Dad said, 'doesn't my lawn look good? Somebody mowed it!' I didn't expect him to tell me that somebody was him.

I'm furious.

To boot, neither my Mom or brother told me they'd facilitated this situation. They deliberately lied to me by omission about it. My Dad was having a good day, so his working memory was longer than 2 minutes, which is the only reason I even know the mowing occurred.

Sidenote: What I'm *supposed* to be doing today is rewriting my parents trust. My Mom couldn't find their trust two years ago when she was going out of town. My Dad was already symptomatic. Instead of calling me, their trustee for the last 30 years, to see if I had a copy - which, of fucking course I did - she had a new one drawn up. It is the worst piece of garbage I've ever seen. Not only is it poorly written, the attorney didn't even follow my Mom's instructions. The cherry on top? NEITHER OF MY PARENTS READ THE NEW TRUST BEFORE SIGNING IT. So it wasn't until I finally got a copy of the new trust, months later, AND READ IT, that they were even aware there was a problem.

And why has it taken me two years to get around to rewriting the trust? Because my brother lost his goddamn mind. Why did he lose his mind? Because he has a major mental illness, which I spent five years managing until I could get him into mental health court, and put on AOT and mandated meds. Why is this relevant? Because my Mom helped him get off the mandated meds by testifying in court that he didn't need them, after helping my brother doctor shop to find a shrink who would change his dx to 'just' PTSD, which negated the mental health court orders, since they were diagnosis dependent.

And my Mom didn't tell anyone she'd done this.

We didn't know until my brother started showing signs of psychosis, and then the truth came out. And I spent the next 18 months managing the situation, putting my brother on involuntary hold after involuntary hold, until I could finesse the situation into an opportunity to get him on mandated meds again. Why was I doing this all alone when I have 5 siblings? Because no one else will touch the situation with a 10 foot pole because it's utterly exhausting and consumes one's life.

So, handling my brother while he lost his crackers due to my Mom's bad decision. Check.

Rewriting my folks trust because of my Mom's bad decision. Check.

Spending my Saturday arguing that Dad should not be mowing his lawn and explaining why lying is bad because my Mom made a bad decision. Check.

Between my brother, the trust, and my Dad - who's dementia care I'm overseeing because my Mom doesn't know anything about dementia other than what she's learned from me - my life has been an overworked shitshow since September 2023.

Like, I can handle the Dad-with-dementia part of the equation. It's the non-demented family members creating oodles of extra time consuming work due to idiocy that is the issue.

I'm SO pissed.

Rant over.