“It appears your wife has had a massive infarction,” the doctor says, looking at Dad.
I stare at the doctor’s ID badge, which says “Neurologist” below his name. He is a thin man with straight brown hair, carrying a brown leather bag over his shoulder.
“We’re bordering the critical window,” the doctor says. “So it’s now 10:15 pm and you say the last time you saw her functioning normally was between 7:30 and 8:00 pm?”
“Yes,” Dad answers, putting his hand to his forehead, re-running the numbers in his mind.
Ischemic stroke occurs when a blood vessel becomes blocked, prevents the flow of blood to the brain, and thereby creates an infarction, or death, of brain tissue. Within three hours of the onset of a stroke, ischemic strokes are treatable with blood thinners or anti-coagulants such as tissue plasminogen activator (TPA), which restore blood flow. After that timeframe, the risk of fatal complications, such as bleeding in the brain, increases significantly.
The doctor escorts us across the hall, and shows us CT scan images of Mom’s brain.
“I’m going to ask you again,” the doctor says, pointing to a darker spot on the right edge of the brain. “Are you absolutely sure about the timeframe? Because the damage I see here is so advanced that it’s typical of an infarction at least 6-8 hours out.”
We tell him again. We are sure. He ushers us back to the small waiting room.
“Look,” The doctor says. “When an infarct occurs, it’s like stepping on a hose. All blood flow gets shut off. The brain tissues start to break down and die. At this point, if we anti-coagulate her and get the blood flowing again, it would be like running over the hose with a lawn mower and then turning the water back on. The water is going to leak out everywhere.”
I feel like I’m deflating, all my vital air whistling out and the ground about to come up fast beneath me.
“What would you do if she were your wife?” Dad asks.
“I would give her the best possible chance,” the doctor replies. “I know I said before that we might do the TPA, but given the magnitude of the infarct and the critical timeframe, TPA would be contraindicated. Her biggest risk in the next 2–5 days will be cerebral edema.”
Dad crosses his legs, puts his hand over his eyes, and faces the corner of the room.
It’s like I’m watching a foreign film without subtitles. Is he saying there’s nothing he can do? Is he talking about my mother, who just turned 60—a thin, non-smoking vegetarian who exercises every day?
“You should call whoever you need to,” the doctor says. “She may not be conscious in the morning.”
Monday, October 11, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Five Years Later: Part 1
At about 9 pm on the evening of November 9th, 2005, my phone rang, and, with the events that soon followed, cleaved my reality into a distinct “before” and “after.” It took years to let go of the “before” that our lives were, and years to accept the “after” that our lives became. I still cringe a little when the phone rings late in the evening, reminding me of how unpredictable life is, and how little control we all have. But gradually my fears have given way to gratitude—I give thanks each time that phone rings and I find out my friends and family are still safe and healthy.
In upcoming postings, I plan to reflect on this experience as it unfolded, including everything we struggled with and everything we have to be grateful for. I believe that it is our responsibility—as hard as it is in the heat of the moment—to grow and evolve no matter what challenges come our way. Sometimes writing can help you figure these things out, help you figure out how you feel about things. And as much as I wish I could undo my mom’s suffering, I have accepted the “after” with my whole heart and I am a better person because of it. It seems to me that this is everyone’s journey.
The following is the beginning of a series of excerpts from my essay, “Josie’s Window.”
“I’m fine,” Mom insists. “The floor was slippery…I couldn’t get back up. Get my crutches so I can go back to bed.” Only the right side of her mouth moves, while saliva dribbles from the left. Her voice is raspy and muffled, like it’s lodged in her throat. Her eyes are only slightly open.
Dad holds out her crutches, but she doesn’t reach for them.
“She has a field cut,” he says, waving his arm in a vertical motion. “She can’t see anything to her left. I think she’s had a stroke.” He starts pacing, picking up the phone and then putting it back on the receiver.
She leans over and vomits on the floor.
I know what he is debating. Twenty miles of country roads to the nearest hospital, an ambulance will take too long. I lean over and hug her tight. I feel a pop and a hiss, as if I’ve punctured an air-tight package—the feel of something brick-hard becoming malleable in my hands.
We ease her toward the back door, her left leg dragging in its black orthopedic boot. She grabs the door frame in protest.
In upcoming postings, I plan to reflect on this experience as it unfolded, including everything we struggled with and everything we have to be grateful for. I believe that it is our responsibility—as hard as it is in the heat of the moment—to grow and evolve no matter what challenges come our way. Sometimes writing can help you figure these things out, help you figure out how you feel about things. And as much as I wish I could undo my mom’s suffering, I have accepted the “after” with my whole heart and I am a better person because of it. It seems to me that this is everyone’s journey.
The following is the beginning of a series of excerpts from my essay, “Josie’s Window.”
****
She slumps in a chair at the kitchen table, an invisible weight tugging at her left arm. Behind her, the white borders of the window pane create a checkered backdrop against the evening vista. “I’m fine,” Mom insists. “The floor was slippery…I couldn’t get back up. Get my crutches so I can go back to bed.” Only the right side of her mouth moves, while saliva dribbles from the left. Her voice is raspy and muffled, like it’s lodged in her throat. Her eyes are only slightly open.
Dad holds out her crutches, but she doesn’t reach for them.
“She has a field cut,” he says, waving his arm in a vertical motion. “She can’t see anything to her left. I think she’s had a stroke.” He starts pacing, picking up the phone and then putting it back on the receiver.
She leans over and vomits on the floor.
I know what he is debating. Twenty miles of country roads to the nearest hospital, an ambulance will take too long. I lean over and hug her tight. I feel a pop and a hiss, as if I’ve punctured an air-tight package—the feel of something brick-hard becoming malleable in my hands.
We ease her toward the back door, her left leg dragging in its black orthopedic boot. She grabs the door frame in protest.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Personal Legend
I just haven’t gotten back into my routine yet. Ever since I went on vacation and then started a new job, I’m still sorting things out. Often I’m so tired I just can’t seem to make writing a priority. I have to figure out a way to change this. Maybe I need to enroll in a writing workshop. I also can’t seem to motivate myself to do re-writing or more query letters after a round of rejections….I did get a little inspired the other night when we began reading The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho, which talks about the importance of finding your “personal legend,” or realizing your dreams. I’ll keep you posted on that.
My mom is doing IV antibiotics at home for a bacterial infection in her toe. Her recent hospital visit was scary for us all, being her first hospital stay in five years, when she was hospitalized for four months after a stroke. I think she felt—and we all felt—like this recent hospital visit was going to be like it was before, the way we felt when she first woke up and she couldn’t even open her eyes or talk and we all felt completely helpless and vulnerable. At that time, we held her eyes open and she wrote messages with colored markers on a dry-erase board. She went from bedridden to walking with a four-footed hemi-cane in a matter of weeks….but there was still so much healing to do—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I guess what I’m trying to say is that the healing goes on long after you leave the hospital. And this recent hospital visit reminded her of how far she has come. She can ask for what she needs, she’s not afraid to be alone, she speaks up for herself, and she’s much more independent.
I just hope that antibiotics take care of this infection. Every day, I ask the universe for two things: for my family to be safe and healthy, and to be able to realize my “personal legend,” to do the work I’m meant to do, whatever that may be.
My mom is doing IV antibiotics at home for a bacterial infection in her toe. Her recent hospital visit was scary for us all, being her first hospital stay in five years, when she was hospitalized for four months after a stroke. I think she felt—and we all felt—like this recent hospital visit was going to be like it was before, the way we felt when she first woke up and she couldn’t even open her eyes or talk and we all felt completely helpless and vulnerable. At that time, we held her eyes open and she wrote messages with colored markers on a dry-erase board. She went from bedridden to walking with a four-footed hemi-cane in a matter of weeks….but there was still so much healing to do—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I guess what I’m trying to say is that the healing goes on long after you leave the hospital. And this recent hospital visit reminded her of how far she has come. She can ask for what she needs, she’s not afraid to be alone, she speaks up for herself, and she’s much more independent.
I just hope that antibiotics take care of this infection. Every day, I ask the universe for two things: for my family to be safe and healthy, and to be able to realize my “personal legend,” to do the work I’m meant to do, whatever that may be.
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| Slide-Tape Recorder |
For now, I’ll leave you on a humorous note. You can learn so much about people and past times by looking at their things. I’ve enjoyed looking at old church cookbooks for this reason. I find myself working in a place that seems like a museum—containing relics of the past. I’m uncovering all sorts of crazy gadgets that I’ve never seen before. This is a slide-tape projector. You put your slide carousel on the top and an audio cassette in the slot and it projects the slides on the screen with accompanying audio. I imagine this was quite an improvement to the standard slide projector.
Pictured below is some sort of primitive teleconferencing unit called a “Darome.” Note the dust. Oh, how far we’ve come.
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| Darome Teleconferencing Unit |
Friday, September 17, 2010
Silver Lining
The last few weeks have been such a whirlwind. I had a rejuvenating vacation with friends in Portland and Sacramento. Upon my return, I started a new job, which (so far) seems to be one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time. I knew I needed a change, but I didn’t realize how badly I needed this change. I already feel so comfortable and welcome in this new role—everyone has been so supportive and appreciative. It was long overdue.
We celebrated C’s birthday last weekend with a beautiful canoe trip on the St. Croix River between Taylors Falls, Minnesota and Osceola, Wisconsin. On our way home we stumbled onto the most unique sculpture garden. However, our day trip had an unexpected ending. We stood in the ditch and laughed and appreciated the fact that our car died in the most opportune location: right when we got back home, within sight of the VW dealership, which meant it would get towed for free by AAA. You have to appreciate your blessings in every form. Find the silver lining as they say.
Yesterday I saw this: “A big shot is just a little shot that kept on shooting.” – Anonymous
I am trying to keep on shooting. Although I am happy about the changes with my new job, I’m a little down about a few other things. My mom has a bacterial infection in her toe which has been lingering—despite numerous treatments with oral antibiotics—for several months. Yesterday she was admitted to the hospital to begin IV antibiotics. I’ve now received two rejections on the most recent article I sent out to get published. I haven’t heard back from one place but I’m assuming I won’t at this point. The news about our car has gone from bad to worse. It sounds like it may cost more to fix it than the car is worth.
Sometimes it’s hard to understand why things happen. For example, why my mom should have to suffer any more than she already has. Five years ago she had a stroke that resulted in a craniotomy, loss of function in her left arm, weakness in her left leg, vision problems, and more. When I start thinking this way I have to remind myself what I learned back then. Accept it for what it is…don’t question it or resist it and flounder in “why” and “what if’s” –this will only lead to more suffering.
We celebrated C’s birthday last weekend with a beautiful canoe trip on the St. Croix River between Taylors Falls, Minnesota and Osceola, Wisconsin. On our way home we stumbled onto the most unique sculpture garden. However, our day trip had an unexpected ending. We stood in the ditch and laughed and appreciated the fact that our car died in the most opportune location: right when we got back home, within sight of the VW dealership, which meant it would get towed for free by AAA. You have to appreciate your blessings in every form. Find the silver lining as they say.
Yesterday I saw this: “A big shot is just a little shot that kept on shooting.” – Anonymous
I am trying to keep on shooting. Although I am happy about the changes with my new job, I’m a little down about a few other things. My mom has a bacterial infection in her toe which has been lingering—despite numerous treatments with oral antibiotics—for several months. Yesterday she was admitted to the hospital to begin IV antibiotics. I’ve now received two rejections on the most recent article I sent out to get published. I haven’t heard back from one place but I’m assuming I won’t at this point. The news about our car has gone from bad to worse. It sounds like it may cost more to fix it than the car is worth.
Sometimes it’s hard to understand why things happen. For example, why my mom should have to suffer any more than she already has. Five years ago she had a stroke that resulted in a craniotomy, loss of function in her left arm, weakness in her left leg, vision problems, and more. When I start thinking this way I have to remind myself what I learned back then. Accept it for what it is…don’t question it or resist it and flounder in “why” and “what if’s” –this will only lead to more suffering.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Portland Farmer's Market and a Delicious Dinner
Today, my last day in Portland, we visited the Portland farmer's market, got a gourmet sandwich from a food cart downtown called PBJ's, and then came home and made a wonderful dinner (see the following pictures) consisting of homemade bruschetta, pesto, pasta, and more. I was so lazy after all of this that I didn't even want to blog but S bribed with me a bowl of chocolate ice cream topped with a delicious mixture of Farmer's market berries, peaches, and mango. I know, I know. I've been gluttonous all week. But I love experiencing the unique flavors of new places. The last three days have been full of delicious surprises.
It was interesting to see how the Portland farmer's market differs from the ones I'm used to back in the Midwest. I've never been able to buy a fresh, locally grown artichoke, nor have I seen such abundant peaches, raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Our peaches come from Michigan and Georgia!
More pictures are in the following album:
Thanks to S and L for a wonderful visit! I will see you both again soon. Thanks for always making me feel so welcome and allowing me to experience your world so completely. S is making a big decision about something and I will be thinking of her often. S, sometimes you can't reach decisions through facts or logic or what looks good on paper. Sometimes you just have to do what FEELS right and natural and normal and good. I'm there for you.
It was interesting to see how the Portland farmer's market differs from the ones I'm used to back in the Midwest. I've never been able to buy a fresh, locally grown artichoke, nor have I seen such abundant peaches, raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Our peaches come from Michigan and Georgia!
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| Farmer's market fruit bento |
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| Grilled artichokes |
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| Grilled tomato bruschetta |
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| Oregonian sandwich from PBJ's food cart downtown Portland: Challah bread, Marion berry jam, Rogue Creamery blue cheese, Oregon hazelnut butter |
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| Portland 2010 Final Day |
Thanks to S and L for a wonderful visit! I will see you both again soon. Thanks for always making me feel so welcome and allowing me to experience your world so completely. S is making a big decision about something and I will be thinking of her often. S, sometimes you can't reach decisions through facts or logic or what looks good on paper. Sometimes you just have to do what FEELS right and natural and normal and good. I'm there for you.
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| My hosts, S and L |
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| Hobbes, the bengal (one of their three beautiful kitties) |
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Best. Scallops. Ever.
Melt in your mouth. Best. Scallops. Ever. I have to admit, when we first walked in to this restaurant in Cannon Beach, Oregon, I wasn't expecting that much. It's the type of restaurant where you go up to the counter and order, and then go get your food when they call out the number. I just wasn't expecting anything so utterly delicious...sadly, we even noticed several couples walk in the door, take a look around, and then leave right away. They have no idea what they missed out on!
Even their cocktail sauce was delicious and homemade, as was the tartar sauce, which had the most delicious and surprising bite of fresh dill to it.
It was 1.5 hour drive to this little oceanside town of Cannon Beach, Oregon. The temperature was in the high 80's. We walked the beach for several miles and it was glorious. This included viewing Haystack Rock, which you may remember from the 1985 movie, The Goonies.
Below is a link to a slide show of my trip so far.
Aside from experiencing some fantastic sites and super yummy food, S has informed me that I need a new digital camera (mine is an OLD Kodak EasyShare 3.1 megapixel--would you call this vintage digital?) a smart phone, iPad, and cable TV or I am not keeping up with basic professional development! Also, being around her reminds me that I need to read more. How is it that we forget to make time for some of those things we like the most?
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| Ecola Restaurant in Cannon Beach, Oregon |
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| Scallops at Ecola |
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| Homemade clam chowder at Ecola |
It was 1.5 hour drive to this little oceanside town of Cannon Beach, Oregon. The temperature was in the high 80's. We walked the beach for several miles and it was glorious. This included viewing Haystack Rock, which you may remember from the 1985 movie, The Goonies.
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| Haystack Rock, Cannon Beach, Oregon |
Aside from experiencing some fantastic sites and super yummy food, S has informed me that I need a new digital camera (mine is an OLD Kodak EasyShare 3.1 megapixel--would you call this vintage digital?) a smart phone, iPad, and cable TV or I am not keeping up with basic professional development! Also, being around her reminds me that I need to read more. How is it that we forget to make time for some of those things we like the most?
Fun in Portland
We got up at 2 a.m. on Monday morning and C dropped me off at the airport at about 5:20 a.m. By the time I got through security, my 6:30 a.m. flight was already boarding when I got to the gate. I had just enough time! I had a 1.5 hour flight to Denver and then a 2 hour flight to Portland.
One of the first things I wanted to do in Portland was go back to Deschutes Brewery. We didn't have any beer this time...it was only 11 a.m. and just didn't seem appealing...but we did share a delicious pretzel and a marionberry cobbler. I made sure to take a picture of the cobbler this time.
A few blocks down from Deschutes, we spent a few hours at Powell's Books, the largest independent used and new bookstore in the world, according to their website. I bought the book Put 'Em Up! by Sherri Brooks Vinton. It has a recipe for peach salsa that I'm pretty excited about.
We were going to go to the Rose Gardens, but another day hopefully...I was exhausted by 3 pm, which is actually 5 pm in the time zone I'm used to. I even took a short nap before we went out for sushi for dinner, but I was in bed by 9 p.m.
Today we're headed to Cannon Beach for some fun and seafood...in the meantime, I'm being stalked by a bengal named Hobbes. Can you tell the cat from the carpet?
One of the first things I wanted to do in Portland was go back to Deschutes Brewery. We didn't have any beer this time...it was only 11 a.m. and just didn't seem appealing...but we did share a delicious pretzel and a marionberry cobbler. I made sure to take a picture of the cobbler this time.
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| House-baked pretzel With a Creamy White Cheese Dipping Sauce ringed with Black Butte Porter-Stone Ground Ale Mustard. |
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| Marionberry Cobbler |
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| Sunshine is ready for the marionberries |
A few blocks down from Deschutes, we spent a few hours at Powell's Books, the largest independent used and new bookstore in the world, according to their website. I bought the book Put 'Em Up! by Sherri Brooks Vinton. It has a recipe for peach salsa that I'm pretty excited about.
We were going to go to the Rose Gardens, but another day hopefully...I was exhausted by 3 pm, which is actually 5 pm in the time zone I'm used to. I even took a short nap before we went out for sushi for dinner, but I was in bed by 9 p.m.
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| Delicious sushi dinner at Mio |
Today we're headed to Cannon Beach for some fun and seafood...in the meantime, I'm being stalked by a bengal named Hobbes. Can you tell the cat from the carpet?
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| Hobbes |
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