Blue

I’ve been absent here and I can’t explain it other than I’ve been blue. Not depressed, more introspective, maybe? Closer to mortality, as sometimes happens when we face emergencies.

When you’re in the thick of dealing with the emergency, you don’t always realize how what’s happening is sinking in, soaking you in both what’s in front of you, as well as all the what ifs and could haves.

Trauma is weird. 

Now almost two weeks out from my mom being sick, stuff comes back round out of nowhere.

Like when I first saw her laying on the floor and her eyes were open but she didn't look like she was breathing. Or her voice, barely a whisper, when I kept asking her to let me know she was still conscious as I talked to 911, running up and down the stairs to make sure the door was open. Or turning her on her side so she could be sick and then moving her back gently as she continued to vomit so her face wouldn't be in it. Or the ambulance taking so long. Or how when they finally loaded her to head to the hospital they sat in the driveway for so long, me in my own car waiting for them to move so I could follow, I briefly thought to myself: "Maybe they're not in a hurry because she died."

The more time passes the more deeply I understand how critically ill my mom was, and how time here, on this Earth, is unforgiving.

Her doctors said the night she passed out her pacemaker showed she was in v-tach for 2 full minutes. When I was asking one of the nurses in the cardiac unit about the specifics of v-tach and if there were any markers/symptoms my mom could use to signal she might be in trouble again, she noted that a v-tach rhythm can only be sustained for three beats before the person passes out and eventually, if not interrupted, the person goes into cardiac arrest.

The morning of her second day in the ICU when her doctors were set to send her to the cardiac unit, her heart again started what they call v-tach runs. Alarms from her heart monitor. Nurses coming in and taking her pulse, asking over and over, "You don't feel any different?" "You're not feeling anything, light headed, dizzy?"

She had multiple v-tach runs that morning and doctors decided she needed to stay in ICU another night. When my mom looked at the nurse a little confused because she was feeling fine, the nurse said: "This is really serious."

An ultrasound showed that structurally her heart is solid. The electrical system jams up sometimes, and doctors weren't sure why. Critically low potassium ended up being the guess even when v-tach runs were still happening after she'd received several bags of potassium. Two anti-arrhythmics were added, and a night of only one small v-tach incident meant a move to the cardiac unit where a night of zero v-tach incidents meant going home.

Why am I telling you this? I don't know. So many people are dealing with trauma right now, some may not even know it. We are in a world where nothing seems to matter anymore. And maybe sharing is processing for me, and maybe in sharing other people can process, too. Not this specific trauma, obviously, but their own.

Also, I've had more than this event to remind me that time is short. Like, really short. I know I could die before my parents, but the more likely scenario is that I will be the one to lose them. You only have so many days on this Earth in this body in this community, so choose what matters carefully.

Lastly: When I was complaining about the ambulance taking so long to a nurse in the cardiac unit, she said that's one of the main problems they see with rural medicine (and to be honest, my folks aren't what I would consider rural, they're just outside the county line). 

She implored me to take a CPR class, saying that most now focus solely on the chest compressions instead of the breathing. Had my mom gone into cardiac arrest during the 20/25 minute wait for the ambulance, that skill would have been the difference maybe.

So, I'll be taking a CPR class. You should, too.

And you should live a life that you are proud of, leave every last ounce on the line, your heart wrung dry of all the love you have to give before you depart. Which, again, will be sooner than you ever imagine.

I’m going to get back to daily sends. (Pinkie swear).