This post is heartbreaking to write. It’s not about sales numbers or follower numbers, or anything book-related at all, because I just can’t right now. I’m writing this after spending a week and a half by my mom’s side while she has struggled on a ventilator in the ICU. I’ve been obsessed with the numbers on her monitor: respiratory rate, pulse, oxygen saturation, and blood pressure. The numbers flash when they are not in the optimal range and hers flash more than the main strip on Vegas. Her numbers have been downright uncooperative, causing frequent alarms and beeping that send teams of people rushing into her room, where they suction her lungs, pump various medicines into her, and try to stabilize her blood pressure that skyrockets and plummets at random intervals.
The other numbers not in her favor are the sheer amount of diagnoses they keep piling on her. They know she has a bad lung infection and acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), a complication from her pneumonia, that required her being put into a chemical coma for a brief time…but she should have been able to wake up and come off the ventilator days ago. What they didn’t know until yesterday was why she wouldn’t wake up. An MRI two days ago showed a bilateral stroke involving necrotic tissue in various parts of her brain, including the frontal and occipital lobes. Additionally, they said the large size of the mass in her frontal lobe does not appear to be entirely due to the stroke, and they suspect malignancy. It’s a bad sign when they tell you that brain cancer isn’t even on their priority list, because she’s too sick to treat it anyway. After a visit from the head of neurology, one of my sisters and I had to talk with my dad about something I consider worse than death…the possibility of a persistent vegetative state. The worst thing I’ve endured this week is watching my dad (who I’ve never seen cry in my life) sobbing over my mom and begging her to open her eyes and wake up. That was the day that I started mentally saying good-bye, even though I kept talking to her and telling her she was getting better.
A few numbers are positive: 2 (the number of days we had with her on our family beach vacation before she got sick and we had to call 911), 4 (the number of children she has). If she doesn’t make it, I’ll at least be grateful that all of us were together when this happened.
The doctors told me they are doing all they can, and I know that’s true. When I said I needed to see my husband and kids again, they told me I should go and they will let my sister know if I need to return immediately (she works at the hospital). There was a small, bright spot yesterday, as I got ready to return to Denver to visit my kids and hubby. Mom opened her eyes when I spoke to her. Today, they said she might also have tuberculosis, which she’s had before…don’t get me started on the unfairness of someone having all these lung issues who doesn’t even smoke.
