This was posted as an old Facebook Note. I wanted to move it here because it gives the most detail to one of the two worse weeks of my life. I cannot read it. But I wanted it here so that I had it if I needed to read it. I miss Ma all the time. Friday will be seven years. Seven.
Update – Mom
On Thursday morning at 730 Mom started routine dialysis in Fayetteville. About twenty minutes into dialysis my Mom called to the nurse three times then collapsed. Luckily for us, two paramedics had just finished unloading another dialysis patient when Mom collapsed. They were able to start CPR immediately. Mom’s heart and breathing had stopped. They put Mom into the ambulance and took her to Plateau Medical Center in Oak Hill. There they bagged Mom so they could force her to breathe. A classmate from high school (Gina Thomas) worked on her diligently. And although I am sure there were other people who also worked on her, it gave me comfort that someone I knew personally was taking care of her. I hope to find the names of the paramedics and send them, as well as Gina, a thank you note so they know how much I appreciate what they did for my Mom and our family. It was decided that she would be transferred to CAMC. During the ride to Charleston they put her on a ventilator to assist her with breathing. Although she was taking very shallow breaths, not enough to sustain, this machine forced her to take deeper, much needed, breaths.
Dr Walker is the doctor at the Medical Intensive Care Unit (MICU) and was wonderful in answering a million questions for me today to secure the timeline and what exactly happened and somewhat helped me understand what to expect. Upon her arrival they realized that (through blood work) Mom had a severely elevated white blood cell level. That meant she had an infection somewhere in her system. Dr Walker explained that with an infection (possibly a kidney or urinary tract infection) in her system when the dialysis started (an with my Mom having lower blood pressure) when the fluid shift occurred it was too much for her system, the blood pressure probably dropped much lower and then cardiac arrest occurred. They have done a urine culture to see if it is possibly a urinary tract or kidney infection and they have done a blood culture so they may determine exactly where the infection is in her system. The urine culture would be checked at 24, 48 and 72 hours. At the 24 hour check there was no sign of infection there. However but her urine was of a color that would lead you to think otherwise. Dr Walker said it is still possible that at 48 or 72 hours the culture will show infection. They are running a course of antibiotics to combat infections in the system. There is a possibility that if the infection is cleared up, she may come to. Removing the infection may be the answer.
On her first day at CAMC a cat scan was performed to see if it could be determined whether Mom had a stroke. That came back with nothing. There was no bleeding, swelling or bruising. That I thought was a good thing. However, I was told that it is possible that a stroke might still show up in a later cat scan and it is possible another cat scan will be performed in the upcoming days. The MICU nurse explained to me that it is possible that Mom suffered a cerebral hypoxia between the time she stopped breathing and the time the ventilator was inserted. (http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/001435.htm). If she did suffer from a cerebral hypoxia it might not show up on a cat scan. Today I asked if we could perform some test to determine if she has brain activity. It was explained that those types of tests would probably prove inconclusive because of her condition, infection in the system, medications she is taking, etc. All of these could possibly slow down her brain patterns.
Today is day two at CAMC (but feels more like day two hundred). Mom has still not woken up. Dr Walker said she was non-responsive the first day there. Today she fought opening her eyelids when he was trying to examine her. This evening the night nurse explained that she did not receive the same resistance. When they clean her ventilation tube and suction out her mouth she will open her eyes, they will blink. I try to talk to her at this time (well, at that time and all times that I sit with her) to offer outside stimulus that might bring her more into consciousness. She yawns a lot. It could be reflexive or reactive. Reflexive is just something the body does, reactive is when people around her are talking that she is hearing them.
Erin tells me when people pat me it is a sign of their compassion and I should embrace it. So I have been trying. Sigh. The first person to pat me, I encountered yesterday morning when I received the news. My Dad is hard of hearing so when he called me and I was still on the LIRR making my way into the city – I apologized to the woman next to me and told her I had to take the call (doing that because I hate the “I cannot wait until I get to the office to talk on the phone” kind of people I deal with daily). The woman next to me (upon hearing me half yell to Dad as he explained to me about Mom and subsequently burst into tears) held onto my elbow. As I called Christopher to tell him and the details of my tragic call which then went public to the section of seats I was in, the woman began to pat my arm, offer me a tissue and then spoke to me as we entered Jamaica and say I should get off the train there as it did not make sense to ride into NYC and then all the way back. Getting off there would cut my trip in half… The second patter happened on the platform when an older woman saw that I was crying and that the tissue had disintegrated. She asked if I needed help. All I could get out was that I needed to go home. She handed me a new tissue and told me she would pray for me. Not sure what she thought was wrong with me, but I appreciate her prayers, even if they were not for Mom but just that I regained control of my emotions. Patter three was in the concession area of the hospital at about 1030PM. I was the only one there and (having just seen my Mom in her condition and having had cried for around fourteen straight hours) I was outside of my own mind. The little man was talking and talking and talking. I was staring at him when I realized he had stopped speaking and had his hand on top of mine on the counter, patting my hand. He said, I am sure whatever it is that brings you here will get better. There have been other patters (I have started thinking of them as stranger angels) but my best angel was – I decided to stay with Mom until wee hours last night. I sent Chris and the kids to a hotel (where another stranger angel gave us an extremely discounted rate). At 1130 the nurse chased me out and told me she was to perform an assessment and I would not be able to come back in until well after midnight. So I went to the next level’s waiting area where there was a rather large chair. I climbed in, texted Chris and then Erin and then realized I was cold enough to shiver. I pulled up my hoodie, tied my scarf around my neck and pulled my knees to my chest and abruptly fell asleep. Around fifteen till one I woke a little and realized I was very warm. Opening my eyes I realized that a nurse had turned off the overhead lights and covered me with a blanket.
To all of these people – I thank you. The kindness of strangers always throws me off kilter. Erin reminded me that there are compassionate people out there. Sent to you to comfort you at random times for random reason. I wish I had all of their names, I would love to send them thank you notes to tell them thanks for the few seconds they took out of their day to help me along my way.
And now here I sit at Motel6, Christopher snoring next to me. I am exhausted but do not feel as if sleep will find me any time soon. I want to thank all of you for the wonderful way you have wrapped your arms around me and have prayed over me and my family. When my mind would not accept what it was I was about to face, I simply read your messages to remind me that I was not alone on this journey, that so many of you were right there with me – offering those pats from around the world.
Thank you so much for your support. We still have a long way to go. Mom did not want a ventilator for more than seven days. Tomorrow starts day three. Time is quickly slipping through my fingers like fine grains of sand with a frustrating rapidity that does not hear my pleas. My cheeks are raw from crying, eyes swollen. My morbid sense of humor catches up with me ever so often as my coping mechanisms kick in. I have seen both my children and my father cry. My heart is so terribly raw and exposed. I cannot fathom what I (and my family) will endure in the days that are coming at us like a mack truck at warp speed… All I can continually think of is that I cannot imagine a world without my Mom in it and it is not fair that this is happening to her at such a young (62yo) age…
Christopher is an angel of his own accord. Sent to me exactly when I needed him. I cannot imagine being here and going through this without him. Warm loving arms wrapped around shoulders shaking from the sobbing, a gentle voice telling me to breathe deep before I hyperventilate, soft kisses on my forehead where my thoughts race with a violent speed. He has given me the strength I could not have mustered alone. I will be forever grateful.
So, again, thank you guys for your love, support and prayers. You will never realize how I appreciate the comfort you have offered.
Ciao
Chelle
