by Innari » Sun Sep 11, 2005 4:33 am
So, I'm sure some of you are wondering where I've been since...oh...Wednesday. (A couple of you knew I was disappearing.)
Here is the breakdown of the events of the last few days of Dani.
Thursday September 8, 2005
7:00AM - Wake up to my brother (who doesn't live with me) standing over my bed. He tells me I need to get up because my mother called an ambulance and has been taken to the Emergency Room. I ask why, and he responds with "she's throwing up a lot." So I get my ass out of bed and leave for the hospital.
8:00AM - Arrive at the hospital to find my mother hooked up to about 6 machines (including oxygen). She looks sickly yellow (the whites of her eyes were nasty yellow too) and her skin is sunk in. She's pretty talkative considering she's laying in the ER. Oh, and she's mad that I'm there because I should be getting ready for work.
9:00AM - Mom, brother and I are talking pleasantly, waiting for the doctor. Six nurses run in and ask if everything is ok. Everything seems fine to us, and they say that she had a funny heartbeat for a moment. She had laughed, and the nurses said sometimes laughing can cause a funny heartbeat. Everything is a-ok.
9:30AM - Doctor rolls in. Very nice, young, but very nice. She grills mom with the usual questions. When asked if mom drinks, of course she responds yes. When asked how much, mom responds with "3 big glasses of vodka a day, sometimes more." My eyes nearly bug out of my head. I know she's been drinking every day all day, but I didn't realize it was vodka, and in that amount. I was under the impression it was still just coffee brandy.
9:45AM - Doctor says that mom has a ruptured vein in her esophagus and that's what caused mom to vomit a lot of blood. Solution: Life-flight mom downstate to the largest hospital because they have the necessary equipment to help mom get better. I think "great...goodie...AWESOME!!!" and jump in the car and run to the house. By flight, it's a 45 minute ride. By car...4 hours. So I need to get on the road.
10:15AM - Get to my house, grab some clothes, let the creatures out. Drop a note to a couple people about my whereabouts for the next day or so.
11:30AM - Pick up my brother at the university so he and I and my boyfriend can go downstate together.
2:30PM - Arrive at the hospital downstate. Go in to see mom. She's doing well. She's already had an ultrasound and they've done some bloodwork. Nurse (who's a complete b*tch) tells me they are going to do an endoscopy to look around in her stomach and throat.
4:30PM - Me, boyfriend, brother, aunt, aunt's husband, and cousin are kicked out of mom's room so they can do the scope. They do it right in her room because it's easier that way.
6:30PM - Doctor comes into our waiting room with pictures and shuts the door.
**getting a little...descriptive here**
When you eat food, it goes down the esophagus and into the stomach to be digested. The food then passes into the first part of your small intestine and is combined with blood. The blood is then transported through what's called a portal vein to the liver. The liver cleanses the blood and sends it to the heart.
Doctor says that Mom's liver is so badly damaged (cirrohsis) that the blood can't pass through it as it should. So what it's doing, is backing up into a vein in the stomach. That vein dialated (got real big and puffy, in other words). And then a section of it ruptured. That rupture caused her to vomit blood.
Doctor's solution: They put what's called a "tips" or a shunt in her liver that will allow the blood to pass through it at a normal rate (as though her liver was healthy and functioning). That will reduce the pressure on the vein in her stomach, and that will shrink back down.
Downside to the shunt in the liver, is that...now the blood is passing through at a normal rate, but there is still only a small percentage of her liver functioning as it should. So it can't clean the blood as effectively. One of the byproducts of all of this breaking down of the toxins in the blood is amonia (just like the cleaning agent). The liver won't be able to break the amonia down like normal, so there will be a build up in her bloodstream. The effects of higher than normal levels of amonia in your system, are a bit unpredictable. It can cause twitchyness, drowsiness, sluggishness, disorientation, or confusion. Upside is there is a medication that will absorb the amonia and make those side effects null and void.
The other downside is, it's only a temporary solution. The "tips" in her liver can wear out or become clogged, in which case, we are right back to where we started.
Ultimately, mom needs a liver transplant.
**back to actual events and away from problem explanation**
I fight back tears as the doctor tells me that if my mom continues to drink after the operation (which is scheduled for the morning) she will most likely die within the year.
7:30PM - Visit mom before I head off to our family camp nearby to get some rest. Tell her I love her and to get some sleep.
10:00PM - Get to the camp, and try to get to sleep. Fail miserably.
Friday September 9, 2005
6:00AM - Roll over and wake up. Only really got 45 minutes of sleep. Hop in the car with the boyfriend and brother and head back to the hospital.
6:30AM - Get in cell phone range and get a call from my father. Dad says that mom started bleeding again in the night (from that dialated vein in her stomach) and they took her to emergency surgery at 4AM. (I find out from the Doctor later, that she "damn near bled to death"...his words...not mine.)
8:00AM - Get to the hospital. Mom's still in surgery. Sit and wait.
9:30AM - Mom's out of surgery. They've got her on a respirator because she's heavily sedated and they want to make sure she's breathing. We can go in and see her, but we can't try to stimulate her in any way. We can't touch her. We can't stand over her. We can't talk to her.
9:45AM - I go see Mom. She's tiny and frail and hooked up to all these machines. She has this tube down her throat, and I can hear the respirator fill her lungs and then let off again. I watch her chest rise and fall. I know it's not of her own doing. She can't breath on her own without it. I've never seen my mother like this, and all I want to do is rip everything off her and hold her in my arms. I leave the room because I can't be in there anymore.
10:30AM - Her new doctor goes over everything that happened with us. Says her liver is really enlarged and she is definitely going to need a transplant. Says that in the early afternoon they are going to take her off the sedatives and let her wake up, and then they will remove the respirator and tubes and make sure she can breath on her own.
12:30PM - Dad and my two brothers go out to lunch. They want me to go, but I refuse to leave the hospital.
1:00PM - Her nurse comes out and tells me (dad isn't back) that they are going to leave her breathing tube in until Saturday morning and keep her sedated until then just to make sure she doesn't start bleeding again. I ask her...how worried I need to be about Mom drinking. I want to know if I find a beer can in the trash...am I going to have to call the hospital? Her answer...a couple of shots or a beer could kill her.
4:30PM - Leave the hospital, because there isn't anything I can do. Go and visit with my two grandmothers and then go out to the camp where I had stayed the night before, to try and get some more sleep.
8:00PM - Finally arrive at the camp after visiting. Lay down and try watch a movie to try and coax myself to fall asleep.
Saturday September 10, 2005
5:30AM - Wake up and shower.
6:00AM - Head back to the hospital because they are going to be taking her breathing tube out early.
7:45AM - Arrive at the hospital.
8:15AM - Go see mom because she's starting to wake up. They still haven't removed the breathing tube. They want to make sure she is really awake before they do that. To prevent my mom from yanking her tube out, they've strapped her arms down to her bed. I go in there to see her, and talk to her a little bit. She tries to talk back and then wants to lift her arms. Of course she can't. I nearly break down. Seeing my mom in such a state wanting so much to move, but not being allowed to...and wanting to talk, but not being able to...hurt. Told her I loved her and that I promised they would take the tube out when she was a little more awake. Promised her they'd take the restraints off after they took the tube out. Kissed her forehead and left, wiping tears from my eyes.
8:45AM - Dad comes back from visiting with mom. (Tube still isn't out, but she's more awake. They are just waiting on the doctor.) Told me he asked mom if she knew who he was, and she did. (I had forgotten at this point, that she may not remember who I was because of the amonia in her system and coming off the sedative.) She knew who Dad was. Dad said he asked her if she knew who I was. She shook her head "no". My mother didn't know who I was. And I didn't know how long it was going to last. The Doctor had said it could last from 12-72+ hours. I had to go outside to get fresh air. My mother didn't know who I was.
10:00AM - Tube is out. Dad says mom is more alert and I can go in and visit. I hesitate, because...I don't know if she'll know me. But I go. I need to see her and talk to her. I go in, and she smiles when she sees me and sits up a little. There is recognition in her eyes. I talk with her a little bit. She says she wants to go home. I laugh and tell her she's not leaving until the Doctor gives his OK. I feel better knowing she knows who I am.
11:30AM - Boyfriend and I go get lunch.
1:30PM - Return and visit with mom some more. She's looking better. She's got color in her face again (whites of her eyes are still yellow...but...that may be long term). She's smiling and they've given her pudding and chicken broth (she hasn't had any food or drink since Wednesday...so she's tickled pink). We talk for a little while. The doctor comes in gives her the run down of her situation. When he says she can't drink and that she needs a liver transplant, she just kind of nods.
2:15PM - Go talk with Dad. I decide that the boyfriend and I are going to go home, at least for a day or two. Doctor says she'll be moved from the major ICU to the minor ICU tomorrow if nothing happens in the next 24 hours, and she does look better. All I'm doing is being a bump on a log. If nothing happens in the minor ICU for a day, they will move her to her own room for a couple days. Estimated time of arrival at home is Wednesday or Thursday. That's assuming everything goes smoothly.
2:30PM - Go say goodbye to Mom and tell her I will check in on her regularly. Give the nurse my cell phone and work phone numbers. And leave. I don't want to, but I'm home sick and I have animals to take care of. Fight the tears back as I leave my mother in a hospital four hours away from where I live.
10:30PM - Arrive home. Write this post.
****
So there you have it. The tales of Danyoo for the last 72 hours. Thanks for reading it if you did. I consider you all friends and it was much easier to write one big public post rather than 50 private messages.
*hugs to all*
Dani