Well! After a flurry of panicked calls back and forth, I arrived in Colorado last Thursday for my mother's deathbed scene to find that she not only survived her middle of the night emergency surgery for necretized bowel, but was looking quite likely to recover! Needless to say, it was quite a relief. And recover she did-coming home today, 9 days after surgery, to the amazement of the doctors. She is a tough old bird, and I love her dearly.
I, however, have had my own little problem. Last Friday, after looking at rehab centers all day with my father(which my mom did not need after all) I came back to the house, exhausted and winded. My sister Catherine, in from from Michigan, and father were ready to take off to the hospital for a visit, when I began to feel more than winded-more like breathless, then unable to breath well at all, with chest pain, and I had to admit I was dealing with more than a change in altitude. So, because I practice what I preach, I called 911.
Fire engines, paramedics, rescue trucks, for the second time that week(Mom had called on Monday), neighbors agog on the sidewalk, my father fuming because the ambulance was blocking the driveway, and he wanted to leave-he has a bit of a one track mind-and the inevitable ambulance ride to the same hospital in which my mom was residing! The paramedic only had to stick me 3 times to get a line started, but the last time he dug around for 3.5 minutes before he got a vein. I have terrible veins, and I timed him.
Much ado about my complex medical history, a temp of 102, a battery of preliminary testing, and I was admitted, to the same floor as my mother! I sent her an apology for not visiting, via Catherine. Two days of testing came back fine, and antibiotics cleared up the infection- very mild cellulitis on my right leg-and I staggered home to my parents Tuesday, terribly bruised from all the blooddraws, now tethered to an oxygen machine, which I must use while I'm here.But alive and well and still plugging onward. Lots of help I have turned out to be!
It is actually much better than last year, when she was so very ill, and I was unable to travel at all because of my arm surgery and the problems which followed. I will be some help now she's home-I am great at calming people down during and after crises-and can do a bit around the house. Not much, however, because I still get winded when I exert too much. I'll write more soon, I hope.
Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.
Many Blessings, Margo