I have had enough. I have had more than my fill. Bella needs a break.
I am really starting to dislike February. 2 weeks ago I find out my mom had to go to the hospital. She was talking and "normal", just having serious breathing issues. The next day my Dad said she was not going to make it.
I called Jack home so he could tend Alex and I hauled up to the hospital at noon. Mom had crashed. She was having a hard time moving air, she was unconscious most of the time, and when she was conscious, she was delirious. She thought she was in North Carolina, and thought I was someone named Betsy. They did not expect her to last the night, and told us all to prepare. Her friends came in and out of the hospital all day, talking to her, rubbing on her and telling her they loved her. I sat quietly in the corner. That evening my Dad, who was sick himself, he JUST got out of the hospital from having stints put in not a week before, was exhausted, and mom was maintaining at that point, still terminal though, and I sent him home. I stayed up there for 26 hours. At 9 that night I had the nurse help me run all her co workers off so it was she and I alone, she needed to rest. I ticked a few folks off that night. I sat with her all night, she was trying to crawl out of the bed, ripping her oxygen tubes out, her blood pressure cuff off, her saturation meter off, and kept clawing at her IV...it was a long night. The CSICU was short staffed so it was me who tended after her for the most part.
Later that night the awesome nurse Jeremy told me that if I wanted to, they could give her a little bit of morphine to settle her down. The danger with morphine however, is that is suppresses breathing, which is not something mom could handle. I thought it over for about an hour, and just before midnight Jeremy came in and told me that the amount they would be giving her every hour was not enough to suppress her breathing, and it would not hasten her progress towards death. I made the hardest choice of my life that night, which was to give her the medicine. She got her first dose at midnight. Shortly after that they came in and gave her a breathing treatment, and she actually rested. I kept on Jeremy all night, every hour, about her meds, I know he was probably tired of me, but as it started to wear off she would start trying to rip her lines out and crawl out of the bed. At one point she got a breathing treatment and a shot of morphine at the same time, and it did wonders. She actually rested mostly comfortable. I still expected her to go at any time, the doctors gave her less than one percent chance at making it.
The next morning the hospital Chaplain came in while her boss was there visiting her, and we prayed over here, well I sent healing, they prayed. She had prayer chains going all over the world for her. Later that morning, about 10, one of her friends came in to relieve me so I could go home and get some rest and take Jack to his doctors appointment. I had to stop my moms to drop her personal belongings home, and I was so out of it and exhausted I have no clue how I made it home. Jack and I had errands to run, so I changed clothes and we did all that until we got home at 2...I took a 2 hour nap and got up and headed back to dad's to feed him and the kids, dad was sick and distraught and could not do it. I called the hospital after dinner and was told that she had come to a little, and had recognized people. Her friend told me she would stay the night with her when she learned I had no sleep.
The next morning I called and found out that Mom had woken that morning, fully alert, wanting to know what happened, and what her prognosis was. The doctors were honest with her, it was slim and next to none. Mom said " Apparently you do not know me that well, I am a tough old bird." I actually got to talk to her and tell her I loved her and she could talk back to me. I called the nursing staff ( of which I got to know very well while I was there ) and he told me " Angel, I do not know how, but I think she beat it, I think she is going to make it!"
I went up there that afternoon when Jack got home, and she was sitting up in the bed talking to my dad's best friend who was visiting, and I walked in and just said " I love you" and gave her a hug. I sat with her for a few hours, filling her in on what happened while she was out of it. I went back the next day, and the next. I brought her home Thursday. Let me clarify. Monday she was dying. Thursday she came HOME.
I believe in miracles.
It was the hardest week I have been through, facing my mothers possible death and the driving and taking care of everyone. I took her to her doctor this past Thursday and he gave her a clean bill of health. ( Clean as it can be for someone who has half their lungs anyway. ) He gave her the go ahead to return to work, but she is going to work from home this coming week, as her strength is not 100% yet.
So all that was over, and I had not even processed it all yet, I was wanting to rest so much.
Not in the cards for me.
Jack has been having stomach pains for a while now, but the cost of co-pays are very high for the pitiful insurance his company has, so he just dealt with it. He went to his doc after we got our income tax in, and they sent him for X-Rays and blood work Friday. He came home, and he could hardly walk, he was feverish and freezing, and looked horrible. The slightest pressure on his stomach would make him cry out in agony.
I loaded him up in the truck to drive him to the emergency room, stopping off to drop Alex off with my parents along the way. Just the short drive over there was agony for him, and we decided to call an ambulance at my moms. They came and got him and I followed. About 10 minutes later they flipped the lights on and left me in the dust. My heart stopped. I called my mom, shaking, telling her what happened, and she was like just be calm and don't wreck. After what seemed like an eternity I finally got to the hospital I spent so much time in over the last two weeks and ran inside. It was 15 minutes before I could see him. They gave him pain meds and fluids, he had to fast the night before for his X-Rays and blood work, so he had nothing to eat or drink for over 24 hours. Then they took him for a CAT Scan, and the doc told me he had a really bad infection from his Diverticulitis. They were going to keep him overnight.
He finally got put in a room at about 10:30 that night ( we got there at 3 that afternoon ) and I finally got someone to tell me what was going on at midnight. The computer system was down but the awesome nurse showed me the orders for Jack, which was a lot of antibiotics and pain meds, and a consult with a surgeon the next morning. I was scared. I got home about 1:30, ate a sandwich and went to bed. I woke up at 7 and hit the road, I got there at 8. The doc came in about 9 and said that Jack would be in there a few days, on medication, and if he got better then he could come home, and if he got worse he might need surgery. He is on a morphine pump so he is sleeping most of the time. I stayed until almost noon, and when we woke he told me to go home and get Alex, who was upset that we did not come back and get her the night before.
I left and spent about an hour at Moms and then Alex and I came home and she took a nap and I talked with my neighbors turned awesome friends Vickie and Steph, which made me feel better.
So I am riding solo for the next few days, and I am not looking forward to it. The house does not feel right without him here, and Alex keeps asking when he is coming home. We are going to go see him in the morning, and hopefully after they take the X-Rays for that morning it will show he is improving. I want my Jack back.
I have had enough of February.