Here We Go Again

It was my intention to post an update on my mom's last surgery so you could all understand the details of what happened. That never happened. Instead, life happened!

Johnathon came home the Sunday that my mom's tube was removed. She then spent 8 more days in the hospital only to be discharged the day that Johnathon flew back to California. Having him here was a huge blessing. She had two fractured ribs and a scratchy throat, but appeared to be fine and strong. She also came home on oxygen for a little extra help. She was doing great.

Over the next week and half we had numerous lunch dates and she even attended my little sisters graduation. We shared many long talks about what could have happened that day and the possibilities of what the future could bring. We were emotional babies and cried at the drop of a hat, but we also learned to keep our sense of humor and do our best to make each other laugh.

They scheduled my mom's second surgery for Wednesday, June 1st. It was another early morning followed by the same tests and needle pokes. This time, however, they inserted a central line in her neck and an art line in her wrist. The art line would be her lifesaver in surgery as it was able to inform the doctors that her blood pressure was dropping before it was too late. Unlike last time, they were able to fix the problem before she coded, resulting in no additional cracked ribs...the silver lining? The art line is able to record a persons blood pressure with every beat of the heart. It is also able to show how wet or dry her vessels are...a dialysis thing. All of these factors are they assumed was the problem last time.

Being informed that the doctor wants a consult is now my number one fear. So many thoughts run around your head and you can't help but think of all the possibilities. It's hard.

I found that this time around was much harder than the last for the simple fact that I don't feel like I fully recovered emotionally from the last surgery. Just seeing her laying on the bed fully sedated with a breathing tube was enough to put me over the edge. I guess the fact that I had been sick with the stomach flu the 24 hours leading up to the surgery didn't help either. I wanted to scream when I saw her. I wanted to get mad and throw a fit. Instead all I could do was remain numb. Numb to all feelings.

I've said it before, but I often feel like I am on the verge of a serious mental breakdown. It's like the tears are just waiting to be let out of the flood gates. My emotions are sky high and I simply can't take one more second. You see, that's how I feel on the inside, but instead everyone sees a strong and even mannered face on the outside; someone who can handle anything and make things happen. I hear it all the time, 'you are so strong' or 'I don't know how you do it'. Well, I don't know how I do it either and I am not nearly as strong as everything thinks. It's just as if how I am feeling and how I am acting aren't the same. My only option is to be strong. I have to be strong for my mom who can't be right now. She needs to rest and focus on getting better so I will be her strength. I hold all of her information in my head and act like a computer spitting out details of her medical history to anyone who needs to know. I will make the phone calls to her loved ones and keep them updated. I will be at her bedside when she opens her eyes. And I will be there to answer any and all of her questions when she is ready to ask. Most importantly, I will be there to support her when the doctors say it's time to go at it again. I will be her rock!

We aren't 100% sure what our next step will be with the cancer. The bottom line is that we need to get it out of her, and soon. Now we just have the problem of how to do it. A lot of options have been floating around. Do we give her chemo before surgery hoping that it will shrink them enough to do a lumpectomy on all three spots? Will she then also have to do a series of radiation just to be on the safe side? Or will she even need a second dose of chemo? What if the cancer has spread? What then? There are just so many unknowns.

To make matters worse, we found out today that her dialysis graft has clotted and she will be receiving a temporary catheter until a new graft can be put in. The only problem with that is I am not sure where they will put it. We also learned that she has pneumonia. :( *sigh*

Sometimes I just sit back and wonder why? Why would God put her through all of this? Is there a reason? I would sure like to know what that is. Are we supposed to be learning something from all of this? Then what? Because all I feel is fear. All I know is that every time my mom goes into a hospital for a routine surgery, it ends in a few week stay and many other problems than before. I can't help but feel angry and I know I shouldn't feel that way. It's just I feel like I pray every second of every day and things like this still happen. I know there is a reason for everything, but when is enough, enough? I guess I am just dealing with a little bit of doubt here. Don't get me wrong, I believe in God with all of my heart. However, it's only after someone goes through everything that I have experienced with my mom over the years that I start to ask 'why'?

I guess in a twisted way I should be thankful that she made it through, right? I suppose she could have died, but instead He let her live. Am I then selfish to say that I would rather Him do this to her a million more time than to take her from me? It is selfish, right?

All I do know is that this has been very hard on me and I'm not sure how much more I can take emotionally. If that is how I feel, imagine how my mom will feel when they wake her up and take out her breathing tube this afternoon.

She Coded

I've watched so many cars come and go today as I've sat looking out of my mom's ICU hospital room window. A person's experience at the hospital can be so vastly different from the person standing next to them. Someone could be having a baby while someone else is here to say good-bye to a dieing grandparent. Someone could simply be getting some blood drawn while someone else is in the fourth month of their long hospital stay. Unfortunately, I have endured most of the above with my mother. To explain to you her medical history would take a whole afternoon, so instead I will jump to her bilateral mastectomy that was scheduled for Thursday, May 12th.

It was an early morning for us as 5:45am came a little early and we had a groggy start. I drove to the hospital with my mom, knowing she was anxious about this life changing surgery. Would it be successful? Would we find out today that she was only beginning her battle with cancer? I did my best to talk non-stop and keep her mind busy on silly things, like the upcoming bridal shower I was planning or what silly gift I would get my daughters for their 4th birthday next month. She saw right past my little scheme, but allowed me to babble anyway.

The process of getting her ready for surgery moved along pretty quickly. They got her in a gown and we sat in the surgical staging unit Kent, the minister of pastoral care at our church, arrived to pray with us. It was a wonderful morning and my mom was in great spirits, keeping us laughing the entire time. From there we headed down to nuclear medicine, a typical procedure for anyone having a mastectomy (or even a lumpectomy). Piece of cake!!

It wasn't long before they wheeled her up to the operating room. This is where we said our well wishes and promised her that all would be okay and that we would be waiting for her when she woke up. Luckily for my dad, a surgical technician at the same hospital, he was allowed to follow my mom back and hold her hand until the last minute. As soon as he walked into the waiting room, the phone rang. They had gotten my mom to sleep and everything was looking perfect.

We were a little surprised when the phone rang again 10 minutes later. Had they gotten the results of the sentinel node biopsy already? They were quick! My dad and I walked into the other room and began discussing what they could possibly be telling us. What if it has spread? Surely they wouldn't come out this soon if everything looked good. This must be bad news, I had convinced myself.

Dr. W walked in and sat down. The look on her face was one of fear and her eyes told a story of someone who had bad news to deliver. "Frank" she said to my dad, "I just want you to know that we got her stats back up and she is doing fine."

There was a small silence for a moment. What did she mean that they got her stats BACK up?

"Frank" she said again with sorrow in her eyes, "She coded."

Anything after that is much of a blurr for me. The floor I had been standing on, the couch I had been sitting on...all of it, was ripped out from under me and my chest got heavy.

'They got her stats back up. They revived her. She is alive.' I kept repeating those three little sentences over and over again in my mind.

Without going into too much detail, they ran some tests, checked her heart for damages, ran CT scans of her head and chest...all came back normal. They moved her to the ICU where she is still, after 24 hours, heavily sedated and intubated. She wakes up occasionally and quickly gets angered by her arm restraints that are keeping her from ripping out her breathing tube. the medicine is making her groggy and she unable to remember anything when she wakes. For her, every time she opens her eyes is the first time and she expects to see a flat chest and hear the news of her cancer. It is my job to calm her and reassure her that it will all be okay. I rub her arm and smooth her hair as I look into her eyes. She wants so badly to talk and ask questions, I know this is a challenge for her.

I can only hope that the sight of me brings her a little piece as she lays in that bed unable to move, talk or communicate in any way.

She is doing dialysis right now, in her room, and sometime tonight they should begin to extubate her. With any luck, she will be awake and talking to us at this time tomorrow.

I just want to take a moment to thank all of you who have been praying over my mother today. We feel your love and thank you all from the bottom of our hearts. A special thanks to my mom's best friend, Lu, who sat with us all day yesterday and offered to get us whatever was needed. You were our angel. To my in-laws who are braving the task of watching my three little ones while I am at the hospital. You have been nothing short of a blessing in my life. Thank you.

I will update whenever possible, please feel free to ask questions as I am sure I left something out.