Light, Love, Hope

What a hard week this has been for my family.  My mother is still in the hospital a week later after back surgery due to complications.  She scared us completely when she wouldn’t wake up the day after surgery, and they referred to her as “unresponsive.”  Thankfully, it was just the combination of her age, the anesthesia and the pain medicine they were giving her that caused this reaction, according to the nurse and doctor.  What’s been so great about all of this is that when she did wake up, she indicated she was not in pain from the actual surgery.  They went in and put rods and pins in her back to relieve the pressure on nerves that were causing her extreme pain for a year and a half.  The doctor told her that if she did not have the surgery, she would end up in a wheelchair.  She felt she had no choice but to go through with the surgery then.  In light of our fear and her hesitation to begin with when surgery was mentioned, it is wonderful that she has not experienced any pain from the actual surgery itself.  With her being able to tell the staff that on Wednesday, they weaned her off of the pain medicine and were just giving her Tylenol if needed.

Sadly, complications seemed to come at us completely blindsiding us completely.  We did not expect any problems, as the doctor was talking about her going home the day after surgery.  However, a week later, my mom is still in the hospital.  They did, thankfully, stepped her down from ICU and into a regular room Saturday evening when I was sitting with her.  This would allow my parents a little more privacy, and, hopefully, the ability to rest more while in the hospital.

If they could just get my mom’s fever to go away, but it is still bouncing around as they try to determine what else is causing it.  They knew about the pneumonia, despite having the pneumonia shot, but now they are treating her with two different antibiotics as they try to determine what else is causing the fever.

We’ve relieved my dad as much as possible over the weekend, but he does not wish to have her unattended for very long while in the hospital.  He is very protective of her, but I have tried to explain, although he’s worn out and just plain tired, that she is in the best place at the moment.  She can’t go home with an elevated heart rate, blood pressure, and blood sugar numbers.  Honestly, with the fever, she needs to be there until it is completely gone and she’s healed from whatever it is that is causing the problem.  Realistically, we know this.  But when someone has been away from their home for a week, it gets old fast.  My strong willed mother has even tried to get up in the middle of the night to go home.  There have been a few times she has dreamed she was at home making coffee, but alas, in the hospital she sits until the complications go away completely.

As far as the actual surgery, they have gotten my mom up and moving around with a walker.  She was able to walk the halls Sunday, so she’s proven how strong she is in all of this.  She has the will inside of her, whereas at the beginning, we were wondering if she was going to pull all of her strength together to beat this.  Her fear of moving around after the surgery had her where she would not do a whole lot on her own.  However, after the rehabilitation staff came around to present literature on their facility to my parents, my dad had to really talk to my mother to let her know that ultimately it was up to her to have the will to get herself moving after surgery.  The other option was the rehab facility, which none of us wanted since it was more like a nursing home.  After hearing this, my mother started doing more for herself, which was a great relief to us all.

Prayer is a wonderful thing, and we appreciate everyone that has taken the time to pray for my mom.  Please continue, as we want her restored to health and able to return home to watching her “shows” and drinking her caffeine free diet coke.

Standing in the surgery holding room waiting for them to come get my mother, I found myself watching her every move.  I know she felt as if she was on display laying there in a semi upright position in her fashionable hospital gown.

The nurses had already been in to give her some medicine to help calm her nerves, as my father sat at her bedside.  I watched my parents holding hands and looking at each other.  You could see the love between them, although no words were being spoken.  It was hard for my dad to hide the troubled look on his face, but he tried to put on a brave front for my mother.

The time was quickly arriving for them to take her back for surgery, so my father and I gathered closer around to pray for her, the surgeon, and the entire staff that would be assisting my mother during her operation.   Then the crew came to whisk her away.  My dad and I exchanged loving words and hugs with my mother and tried to hold back our tears as they rolled her away.  We stood cemented in that very spot until long after my mother was rolled out of sight.  Neither of us could speak, so I just linked my arm in my father’s as I turned us both toward the exit to the family waiting room.  Once outside the surgery holding area, I excused myself so as not to further upset my father, who was holding on to the railing staring out the large glass windows of the hospital.

After spending quite some time sitting inside my vehicle sobbing while speaking with a friend, I was finally able to regain my composure.   Eventually, I returned to my father’s side in the family waiting area once more.  He seemed to be in a much better place emotionally as well, so the break did us good to each process our own feelings.

Four and a half hours is what they originally told us would be the duration of this extensive back surgery.  This step was necessary to end the pain my mother had been in for quite some time.  When shots and various other therapies hadn’t worked, this step was needed to avoid her being in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.  My mother said she told the doctor that she really didn’t have a choice in the matter then.  She felt she had to have the surgery because she did not want to live the rest of her life confined to a wheelchair.  That is what lead up to our gathering at the hospital that day.

After three hours, the nurse came out into the family waiting room to tell us that the doctor wanted to meet with us. She lead us to a long conference room with sterile looking arm chairs where we waited for his arrival.  Trying not to think the worst, I just prayed silently that everything was okay.  Finally, the doctor arrived to explain that things went well, she tolerated the surgery nicely, and he didn’t think she would have any problems.  What a relief!  Oh thank you God!

Fast forward to the next day …

My mom didn’t get to go home the following day as they originally planned.  They could not get her to wake up, and she developed a fever.  Her blood sugar levels were extremely high at 292, with her heart rate and blood pressure elevated as well.  My daughter went right away when she learned this and stayed by her grandmother’s side until I could get there.   My mother did finally wake up briefly, so my daughter was able to let me see my mom and my dad via Facetime.  What a huge relief that was to SEE her face and have her try to talk to me briefly before she went back out again.  When my daughter let me see my father’s face, I could see nothing but worry and anxiety all over him.  This isn’t what they expected to happen nor what any of us wanted.  Yet, it was what was taking place.

The doctors felt that she would eventually pull out of it, but during that time of hearing she was “unresponsive,” you couldn’t help but fear the worst while hoping for the best.  All you need is faith the size of a mustard seed, I kept reminding myself.

Arriving by my mother’s bedside to stand once more looking at her in her fashionable hospital gown, I couldn’t help but think of all the times she told us the same story repeatedly.  We would laugh and say, “Yes, you’ve told us this several times before …” and yet she would continue anyway just for us to smile back at her and almost be able to recite the story word for word since it was all too familiar.  It is times like these standing by her bedside as she’s hooked up to monitors with tubes here and there, with no one really expecting her to require being on oxygen either … when you wish for more.  Oh what I wouldn’t have given at that moment in time to hear those same stories on repeat.  Please, Mama, wake up now and tell me again all about what happened … please … my heart silently begged.