Tuesday, February 15, 2011 is a day I will never forget. I got to the hospital just in time to see them loading my mother into a wheelchair and through the doors of the ER. I could tell by looking at her she was desperately ill. None of us were prepared for what happened over the course of the next 8 days. I watched as they worked feverishly on her and worried as I watched her blood pressure begin to drop. The doctor came in and told us she was very, very sick and needed to be in ICU for a few days. We still didn't realize the magnitude of the storm that was brewing around our little family. We raced to get home and gather a few items and I stood on my porch as I watched the helicopter fly my mother to United Hospital Center in Clarksburg. While at UHC it was determined that she had acute pancreatitis. The severity of the illness baffled the doctors.
40 some hours with no sleep and my mother was being flown AGAIN. This time from UHC to Ruby Memorial in Morgantown. Daddy and I were already exhausted, Brad was doing the driving and Mom was fighting for her life. By 9 pm that Tuesday night she was on a ventilator and by 3 am she was in yet another ICU. Daddy and I drove on to Morgantown on Wednesday morning. Mom was awake but seeing her in that condition broke my heart. The next few days are a blur. Wednesday night they told us we didn't have much hope of recovery. Thursday morning she was awake, alert, even wrote notes to us. By Thursday night she was sedated and paralyzed. Friday it was emergency surgery to relieve the pressure in her abdomen - acute renal failure - lungs failing - but we had hopes that the surgery would change all that. It did not.
Daddy and I came home on Saturday to rest and take care of some things around the houses. Her condition did not improve at all Saturday and on Sunday morning they said she had actually taken a small step backward. The surgeons had warned us that any steps backward could be fatal. Her blood pressure began to require more assistance again. Her O2 levels required more support. By Sunday night they'd began warming her with heated, air filled blankets and had given even more blood pressure meds. They told us they wanted to start dialysis. Again, we thought this would help. Daddy gave them permission to do the dialysis and we headed back to Morgantown on Monday.
Monday brought the worse news. Her condition was continuing to deteriorate. She was on 100% oxygen, dialysis, bp meds, multiple other medications, had been given 2 units of blood and was so full of fluids she was literally unrecognizable. Monday was an excruciating day. We asked to meet with the doctors. Dr. Abe told us that Mom had over 8 points on the scale that measures mortality rates with sepsis and pancreatitis. Her chances of survival were about 5% and her chances of a normal life were just about nothing. They told us we could keep her alive as long as we wanted, but that we were no longer saving her life, but prolonging her death. Monday night was a horrible night. Lots of phone calls, people making travel arrangements, and bracing to say goodbye. It was the hardest 24 hours of my life but we knew it had to be done.
Tuesday came and the Ethics committee met with us first thing. Based on Mom's testimony, her wishes, and their knowledge of her medical condition, they fully supported our decision to withdraw care that day. Surrounded by her friends and family, Mom went home at 4:03 pm on Tuesday, February 22, 2011. Heartbroken, but relieved her suffering was over, we began to make arrangments for her services. The entire week is a blur. The services were beautiful. 300+ people came to pay their respects, support our family and celebrate Mom's life. We couldn't have asked for anything more beautiful, more fitting, or more appropriate. Sunday we placed her earthly shell in a peaceful spot on the family land.
I miss her so much. She was a beautiful, courageous, amazing woman. I hope that someday I'll be half as tough as she was. She and Daddy shared many wonderful years and there's a void that can never be filled in our family, in our hearts and in their home. Our only comfort is knowing that goodbye is not forever and we will see her again someday. I love you... I hope you're saving my spot!
No Regrets.
