Tomorrow isn't promised. Not even at all.
Many of you know that my mom's health has been less than perfect for a few years. A product of orphanages, the foster care system, and the streets, my mother has come a long way in her life...and has dealt with more challenges than a marathon of Lifetime movies could address. But, that's another blog entry of its own.
On February 17, almost three weeks ago, I missed two phone calls and as many texts from my sister...informing me that my mother was being taken to the ER in an ambulance. She had fallen in the dining room...and we would soon learn that she had suffered a serious hip fracture which would mean she'd have to learn to walk again.
That was Thursday. Four days went by before she was stable enough for the hip surgery. (My mom's heart has been weak since the massive heart attack she suffered in 2005. And she's been in kidney failure, on dialysis since 2007.) It's been a long road. And routine procedures like hip surgeries become increasingly complicated when the rest of her conditions are considered. (And I've only mentioned the abridged version of them, for the sake of brevity.)
She finally had the surgery on that Monday night that followed - and she did a great job! Zero complications. To be safe, the surgeon suggested her first 24 post-op hours should be spent in the Intensive Care Unit, where she'd be more closely monitored. Thank God for his foresight.
Less than an hour after her surgery, she flat-lined. Yes, flat-lined.
My mother went into both cardiac and respiratory arrest. Gina and I were standing at her bedside. I'm pretty positive the next minute or two played out in slow motion. We were asked to leave the room...and countless nurses and doctors raced in to save her life. "CODE BLUE: ROOM 2407" was repeated over and over again on the loud speaker, as lights flashed and sirens rang. We walked in the opposite direction of the staff who rushed into her room - we cried in a somber, yet hysterical way... Not sure if that's even possible - but it felt that way. My dad began crying when we turned the corner and mustered up the strength to say, "That's mom's room." We were followed by a nurse who handed us tissues, "They're going to do everything they can for her."
For 17 minutes, "CODE BLUE: ROOM 2407" repeated over the loud speaker. And for 17 minutes, we prayed. And prayed. And prayed some more.
My prayers were selfish at first, I admit. But, as the minutes passed, they became more and more selfless. We prayed for her health, her comfort, and her happiness. And we were devastated, but confident that God would protect her.
"Cancel Code Blue: Room 2407"
We would wait there, praying, crying, shaking, and comforting one another for almost fifteen more minutes before anyone would update us. In the meantime, the others in the waiting room prayed with us, offered their condolences, and cried for our family. Finally, one of the janitors rolled past us with her cart, and motioned an 'okay' sign with her hands. Did that mean my mom was okay?
Nearly thirty minutes after we were asked to leave my mom's room, a nurse came up to us and told us she had been stabilized. He (tried to) braced us for what we would see when we went into her room. She had been intubated; put on a ventilator so that she could breathe. And she layed there, unresponsive.
For four days, she remained that way. Intubated and unresponsive. I've never hurt so much for someone else before - and it hurt terribly, almost unbearably, to see the strongest woman in this world...in such a compromising position. And we had no idea if she was in pain, could hear us, or would come back to us. But, we refused to lose Faith.
I'm certain that as the days passed, the nurses and doctors looked at us with a mix of pity and sympathy, watching us as we sat by my mom's bedside 24/7, talking to her as if nothing had changed. Only two could visit her room at a time, and only one could stay over night....so we took shifts in her room, and made a second home of the family lounge. We bought microwaveable food from the corner CVS store and stocked the fridge with waters and leftovers so we'd not forget to eat throughout the day.
My dad, who has been divorced from my mom for 21 years, remains her best friend. He stayed by her side...by our side...everyday. He stayed awake at night, watching her like a hawk and taking notes of every vital sign, her every bodily twitch, and the times he was certain she squuezed his fingers or blinked upon request. During the day, he slept in his car...while Gina and I took over for our "day shift". We didn't leave her side.
For 16 days, we stayed by her side - which was so rewarding to see her smile at us, wink at us, and blow kisses. Not even a ventilator could stop by mom from sending kisses!
Flash forward to today, and my mom is at home. She was released last night - and originally, the recommendation was to send her to a "Rehab Center". Long story short, Gina and I made a surprise visit to this place that came so highly recommended....and we left in tears. (Also another blog entry). The place was so disgusting, poorly ran, and seemed so inhumane.....we couldn't bear to leave her there! We REFUSED.
We researched other options and my sister and I have opted to do home health care with her as she recovers from this crazy ordeal. The hip surgery, alone, warrants intense physical therapy sessions...but the other stuff is kind of a big deal, too. The details of all the home health care stuff are boring - so I'll spare you that. Just know that we love our mother too much to have left her in that hell hole...and we're Blessed with the ability to spend the time necessary to take care of her ourselves, using home health care accordingly.
I know that we're so Blessed. I'm certain that God has an incredible plan for my mother; one that will allow her to continue to inspire others with her story. I also know that we have been Blessed with some of life's most wonderful family and friends. We received so many calls, texts, fb messages....even visits by friends to keep us company as we waited in the hospital.
To those of you who sent your thoughts, prayers, and warm wishes...THANK YOU! There aren't enough words to describe how grateful we are for your concern and your support. We're certain that God answered these prayers...and we're forever thankful.
I've made mistakes in the past....I've had my priorities out of whack....put some things ahead of others...but want to be certain that I'm more appreciative now than ever before. I was reminded during this time that I have some really amazing friends in my life...many of whom, I didn't even realize were so caring. Others, came through as they always do. And still others, reminded me to be understanding that not everyone handles things the same way. I'm especially thankful for the support and selflessness of my sister, my dad, and my boyfriend...who were strong and selfless beyond belief. And, as you can imagine, my Faith in God continues to strengthen everyday.
Here's the jist of it all: Hug your mom.
If your mom isn't around, hug your dad. If your family life is similar to my mom's...and neither of those are options.......just make sure you hug the people you love. Let them know you love them. Show them you love them. Remind them of it. I was confident in those 17 minutes my mom coded...that no matter what happened, she knew we loved her.
She's doing better now. But, as I said before...it's been a long road...and will continue to be as we move forward. Thanks be to God, the good news is...we will move forward.
