The paramedics got Adam settled into a
room in the ER, and I sat down beside the bed. Celeste stayed
nearby, and within a few minutes our favorite priest had arrived as
well. The nurse assigned to Adam was very nice and did all the
things that nurses do when one arrives in the ER. I wasn't paying
very close attention to be honest. Yet another blurry experience in
the hospital. When the doctor arrived he asked, “How are we all
doing?” I automatically responded with, “Fine.” He smiled and
replied with, “Of course you aren't 'fine'... you're in the
emergency room!” He was like no ER doctor I've ever encountered.
He had already looked over Adam's medical history, and he said
something about our having chosen alternative treatment for Adam's
cancer. I instantly became defensive and tried to show how
non-alternative we were. “Well, we did have surgery to start off
with... and then we did an FDA clinical trial... but they didn't
work...” I can't remember what he said next, but it assured me
that he wasn't judging us. In fact he made a joke about hating
doctors himself. I think he just wanted to clarify our position
before he started offering treatments. He also wanted to be
respectful of our financial situation and the fact that we are “self
pay”. There was no reason to start ordering the full battery of
expensive tests to tell us what we already know. Obviously, Adam's
tumor has continued to progress, as indicated by all his previous
MRIs. And it's obvious that he had a seizure and fell. Adam's
tongue was bitten in three places, which explained the blood on his
face. And indicated the probability of seizure. The doctor asked if
we wanted x-rays to rule out any injuries, but I said we could hold
off and wait. If he did suffer any fractures, we would certainly
know within a few days and could address that when and if it comes to
it.
All this time, Adam kept asking what
had happened. I would tell him, “You had a seizure, Honey. You
fell into the bath headfirst.” And he would say, “REALLY? Oh my
goodness.” Then a few minutes later he would say, “What
happened... why am I here?” I would repeat, “You had a seizure,
Honey. You fell into the bath headfirst.” And he would say,
“REALLY? Oh my goodness.” This went on over and over and over
again throughout the night. With every new nurse, or administrator,
or visitor I would tell them what happened and Adam would say,
“REALLY? Oh my goodness.” They took blood, got him hooked up to
an IV and started getting anti-seizure and anti-inflammatory steroids
into him. He also received a glucose drip to get his low blood sugar
back up. They gave him pain relievers since he was so banged up, and
he drifted in and out of sleep. Meanwhile, Celeste let me know that
“everyone” had arrived. When I looked at her with a look of
confusion on my face, she said, “All the ladies are back here...
there's a little lounge around the corner... they are all here for
support.” I still don't know quite how so many women were able to
sneak into the ER for one patient, but there they were. One had
popped out to get me some dinner, and I was able to eat and chat and
laugh a little bit in the midst of such a horrible event. I remember
being freezing cold, as I was still dressed in only running shorts
and a t-shirt, so I got some decaf coffee from the machine and one of
the ladies got me a blanket. Adam woke up a bit at one point and
said he was hungry, so Celeste got him some peanuts from a vending
machine. That little bag of peanuts didn't have a prayer... I'd
never seen Adam eat so fast. Our family doctor stopped by to visit
Adam before he was transferred upstairs, and discussed once again the
details of the seizure and fall. Adam still had no memory of the
seizure, the fall, or the trip to the ER. Finally, the nurse arrived
to take Adam upstairs to the oncology ward. This was probably around
1:00 in the morning. My faithful prayer group was still
well-represented, and they all fell into stride behind Adam's bed as
the nurse wheeled him down the corridors. We joked about being
Fundamentalist Mormons, and explained that we were all Adam's sister
wives. All of us had a really good laugh, and Adam was in good
spirits as well. Once he was settled in his room, Kim and I went
down to the Subway to get Adam a salad, and when we got back everyone
squished onto the sofa next to Adam's bed while he finally had his
first meal of the last 24 hours. He cracked jokes and we all laughed
a lot. It was wonderful, and weeks later it is the only thing about
the entire hospital visit that Adam remembers.
Luckily he only needed to stay one
night. He was well enough the next morning to take medicines orally
and be discharged. He was still really shaky and unsteady on his
feet. His tongue was horribly cut and bruised, and he had bruises
and grazes on his forehead, arms, and back. But, he was still here,
and I was so grateful for that. The first week at home was very
stressful and scary. Adam woke up each morning jaundiced and with a
high fever. The bruising on his back (which was all my fault from
trying to get him out of the bath myself) caused him a lot of pain
and made it very difficult for him to get comfortable on the bed to
sleep. He had excruciating pain in the area where his liver is
located. He also suffered from tumor symptoms: headaches, pressure
behind his eyes, and whooshing in his ears. But, as the week wore
on, he began to have moments in the afternoon where he could come
downstairs and spend some time with the kids. He was gradually
starting to feel a bit better. We finally seemed to find the right
levels of medication to keep another seizure at bay and minimize the
tumor symptoms. And we kept him on painkillers to minimize his
discomfort. Finally, one day he was fit enough to go on a slow walk
down to the end of our street. And a few days later he was able to
come out to the playgroup's park day with the kids. He is still
suffering with the odd fever and constant pain that seems to change
day-by-day. He has had to be weaned off the steroids, as they were
making him quite agitated and restless at a time that he needed to be
resting and getting a decent night's sleep. This means he
occasionally has pressure behind his eyes or whooshing in his ears,
but the painkillers have proven very effective in keeping those
symptoms manageable. Some days he feels almost normal, can get onto
the internet and walk up to the post office with me. But the nights
continue to be very difficult for him, filled with a lot of pain and
the inability to sleep. He also suffered a dangerously high fever
two nights ago, which is most probably caused by the tumor. As for
the rest of us, the children watch an alarming amount of television,
and I sleepwalk through each day trying to keep the kids fed and Adam
properly fed and medicated. We have so many people pitching in and
helping, it would be impossible to list them all. But, even though
I'm not able to fully express it, I am so very grateful. And I feel
the strength of everyone's prayers lifting me up onto my feet each
morning. Without God's help, I would not be able to continue to
function, and I give all credit to He Who sustains me.
You are an amazing woman, wife, and mother!! I wish there was something I could do to ease the pain you are currently going through and the difficult times that lay ahead...We are here if ever you need anything. Please tell Adam we are thinking about him and sending prayers for his ease and comfort into his next journey.
ReplyDeleteYour (old) neighbors,
Mandy & Derek