A Familiar Place

St. Elizabeth has become a very familiar hospital. My mom, mother-in-law, and myself all spent time there this summer. And now I am back again with my mother.

I was visiting her Wednesday after school when suddenly she began coughing up large amounts of mucus, large strands of it, very thick and viscous. I called the nurse, and Mom's O2 levels were at 79. She checked them again ten minutes later after turning up her O2, and she'd only risen to 85.

A call to the doctor, the arrival of the ambulance, and a fast and furious drive across town to the hospital brought us to here, Sunday morning. She has pneumonia and Mersa. They are also testing for the MAC virus.

A big problem has been a similar occurrence to what happened Wednesday night - her CO2 levels rose Saturday morning to 126 and she crashed again. Leslie arrived and realized she was not sleeping but comatose, and the nurses hurriedly got a bpap on her and after several hours she began to awaken.

I sat there and held her hand, and realized that her breathing was changing when Steve, Les, or I spoke to her. That was our first indication that consciousness was returning. I figured it couldn't hurt to sing to her some of the old songs I remember my grandmother singing to me and figured had been sung to her, too.

Toodle-umba, umba! 
Toodle-umba umba!
Toodle-aye A!

Any um-ber-ellas,
Any um-ber-ellas,
To mend today?

Bring your parasols,
They may be small,
They may be big,

I will fix them all
in what they call
a jiffity-jig!

She reacted to those, too, and soon she was opening her eyes and beginning to communicate. At one point, she began telling everyone, "I am ready to die." Let me die." I want to die." I finally realized that she thought the bpap machine was a ventilator and that we were going against her wishes and taking heroic measures. I explained what it was several times, but she continued to be agitated, so I had a nurse come in and help explain it to her. After that, she was much calmer.

Saturday afternoon she was more like herself to the extent that she was even joking with the nurses.

This morning she consented to a bronchoscopy, a procedure she has had done several times before. Frankly, I was surprised she wanted it done, but signed the form since I have medical POA. She is waking up now as I type, and is doing well, all things considered.

They also, with my consent, put a temporary feeding tube in her nose (they said it was easier to do while she was under anesthetic than later when she was awake.) I gladly agreed to that - she hasn't eaten since Wednesday lunch!

There is something very holy about sitting with someone who is so close to the veil. She knows where she is going and not afraid.

Neither am I, but I am sad.