Saturday, June 18, 2011

A Fragile Mass of Nerves Continued

When Marilyn, my wonderful mother-in-law had that second aneurysm, we stayed most of the night at the hospital with all of Aaron's brothers and sisters and their spouses, as well as some of the older grandchildren. We made quite a crowd in the waiting room. The surgeon who came to tell us the (favorable!) result of Marilyn's surgery said he felt intimidated talking to such a large group. :) A few hours later the incredible stress and fear I had been feeling caught up to me and I succumbed to an IBS attack. I had to spend the following day and night at my brother and sister-in-law's home while I recovered.

The following evening I began bleeding even though I shouldn't have started for another week. I called my doctor who said it was likely the result of the previous few days' stress. Except it didn't stop. On day twenty-eight other symptoms surfaced. I began to throw up. Aaron will tell you that nausea is my kryptonite and he's right. I was miserable. On the advice of our doctors we went to the ER who then promptly told us that there was little they could do and to go see my OBGYN (the same one who sent me to the ER). Frustrated and getting worse, we saw a colleague of my OBGYN's (since she just couldn't squeeze me in herself) and he prescribed a high dose of progesterone to stop the bleeding which would then, hopefully, clear up the nausea and vomiting as well. We left his office and went straight to the ER where they finally admitted me.

I was in the hospital for four days. On day two I was given a shot of that large amount of progesterone and, sure enough, the bleeding slowed and then stopped. The nausea took a little longer but I finally was able to go home. Now my body is struggling to gain some sort of equilibrium, vacillating between diarrhea and constipation. Mornings are especially bad. I'm hoping that by eating right and taking my medicines, my body will eventually stabilize itself, but until then I'm a less than scintillating companion for my Aaron. There. Two months of hell spelled out.

As for Marilyn, she's still pretty weak herself, and often confused about what is going on around her. It's really hard to see. My heart just breaks for my husband because, knowing how much I love her and knowing that his love for her is twenty times my own, this is hitting him hard. He wasn't kidding when he said she was the glue that holds us all together. Her approval, her support, her advice are very important to all of us. She is special. She stands out from those around her because of her wisdom and charity. I think if anyone wants to know what it is to love unconditionally, talk to Marilyn. She'll teach you. And she'll love you. No matter what.

Friday, June 17, 2011

A fragile mass of nerves

The human brain.

The past two months have been a complete nightmare.

On April 23 my mom had "the worst headache [she'd] ever had" and threw up a few times. Some of my sisters took her to the ER and the doctors there suspected an aneurysm and she was whisked via life flight to Murray.

Jessica and I pulled up right as the helicopter was about to take off. One of the hospital employees had to jump in front of the car to get us to stop and then hold me back from running up to the helicopter. I wanted to see my mommy!

We all drove down the Murrary with questions tumbling through our minds. Her helicopter hit a bird on the way there, putting a hole in the windshield and forcing them to make and emergency landing at the SLC airport.

Tests, test and more tests. The doctors couldn't find where the bleed was happening. Days passed.  A week passed and boom, a full on aneurysm. This time the doctors were able to go into her brain and find the bleed and repair it. This was a scary time.

Towards the middle of May Mom was allowed to come home. She's not the same as she was before - obviously - though she is making baby steps. The woman gave birth to 9 kids naturally without pain medication (I was the only one she had pain free :D ), raised ten kids and several grandkids. She's a fighter. Seeing her laid up and fragile is quite shocking. We are all used to seeing Dad sick or injured. Not Mom. She's the glue that holds us together!

My heart aches for those of you who have had a loved one with dementia. I visisted Mom in the CCU and she didn't seem to remember me, which shook me to the core. I can only imagine the pain of having a loved one never remember anything about you.

Shortly after Mom came home Jessica became sick. I'll let her talk about that.