The worst week of my life.
Hello, everyone.
I haven't posted anything here for a while, for a number of reasons. Mainly, I have been so busy with a lot of big new changes in my life that I just haven't gotten around to it.
As most of you probably recall, I got married in January and X was born in April (yes, we conceived him earlier than we should have - thanks, Ovcon 35!). On top of that, we also purchased our first house a while back, so that we could move way-far-away from the little "Ghettohell" that our apartment complex was quickly becoming.
I had been working all this time as a temp employee at a safety products company. It was not an amazing job, but I worked with a really good team of people and I enjoyed it a lot more than DTAG. The money was not nearly as good as DTAG, but we were still doing pretty well.
Well, about 2-3 weeks ago, my boss (well, the guy at the company to whom I reported, not my boss at the staff agency) called me into his office. I was really apprehensive and he told me that even though they unfortunately were still unable to hire me on as a full-time employee, I could feel secure that unless something drastic or unexpected came up, I would be employed there until at least the end of October. He knew that I had a new baby and that I was currently in the middle of moving, and he wanted to put my mind at ease that I could at least have my job until that point. So, that was awesome. I happily told Lanna and my parents so that they, too, wouldn't worry too much about me.
Okay... Now, on to the worst week of my life. (Those of you who read Lanna's journal entries will find a lot of redundancy here. Sorry.)
Thursday, July 12
I didn't feel the best that morning, so I called in and missed work. Later that day, I was feeling a bit better so I ran to the apartment to grab some more stuff and move it to the new house. On the way home, I found that I had a flat tire. This was not a major surprise, since the tire had been "low" a while back and after reinflating it I figured it was just a matter of time. I stopped by a QT and was able to re-air it enough that I could make it home and change it out for the spare "doughnut."
Friday, July 13th
Lanna drove me to work, and after work we went and saw "Weird Al" Yankovic in concert to celebrate being married for 6 months (as we call it, our 6-month half-assaversary). That wasn't a bad part of the week. In fact, that was pretty awesome.
Saturday, July 14
I discovered that the "doughnut" on my car had also gone flat. Great. Later that night, Lanna and I went to meet a friend in Owasso for dinner, and on the way there Lanna's car started smoking badly from under the hood. Her friend and she thought that the car might be low on transmission fluid, and after dinner they went off to purchase some more, leaving me there to take care of X.
While waiting for them to return, I got a call from my dad at their hometown regional hospital. My mom had been admitted for breathing problems. While this was very worrisome, I also knew that she'd had breathing problems for a long time (she had gone through lung cancer in the past few years and was taking breathing treatments at home on a regular basis), so I figured this was something that she would fight through easily and get better.
Sunday, July 15
I bought a new tire for the car - a little under $100. Argh.
Monday, July 16
I was called in by my boss again. As it turned out, his earlier estimation of "end-of-October" was incorrect. Due to unforeseen budget cuts, my last day would now be... THIS FRIDAY, THE 20TH. So, the challenges in my life now included not only clearing out the remaining crap from the apartment and getting the new house all set up, but also finding a new job. As you can imagine, I was pretty crushed, but I took it professionally and knew that it wasn't my boss's personal fault.
Wednesday, July 18
I took a short day to take a doctor's appointment regarding some chronic pain I was having in one of my legs. After that, at 6:00 PM, I received a call from my dad from a Tulsa-based hospital; my mom had been transferred there. I ran up there to find out that the carbon dioxide levels in my mom's blood had gone so far up that even the hospital's equipment couldn't measure them. She was nauseous and incoherent, with tubes up her nose, just sitting there, with a container in front of her in case she vomited, terribly fragile. The steroids that they had been giving her at the hometown hospital had turned the skin on her arms into a random mottling pattern reminiscent of a blueberry muffin.
After 2-3 hours there, they moved her to the Intensive Care Unit. We were told by one of the doctors that they were going to have to hook her up to a machine to force oxygen down into her lungs and try to reoxygenate her blood. If they weren't successful, then they were going to have to put tubes down into her lungs, and that would be the last resort. They then asked us questions about what her "wishes" were in such a case (whether to keep her going or just pull the proverbial plug), and it was all too much - nothing for which I had been prepared at all.
I went in and talked to her in the ICU room, and she was mentally gone... I was afraid the concentration of carbon dioxide had already done so much brain damage that she wouldn't recover. She could at least tell me that she loved me, even if it was muffled and through the oxygen mask.
------
Well, since then, we have had our ups and downs. Thursday, Mom started showing some improvements, and they were able to get her carbon dioxide levels down to a "normal" level for someone with the conditions she'd already had. Still, she wasn't able to breathe on her own, and she hasn't been able to do so yet. She has been talking a LOT better, and she has made it obvious that she hasn't had much (if any) brain damage. Last night, in fact, she made references to old games that she and I used to play when I was a kid, and she even joked around with me and used a Monty Python quote ("More beans!") that had been one of my favourites when I was very young.
For the last two days, they have tried to take Mom off the forced-breathing mask and give her the nose-tube oxygen, but that doesn't work. Also, she has scarring along her esophagus from radiation treatments she's had in the past, which is keeping her from swallowing almost anything in her weakened state. So, today, they will be administering a nutrient IV which will hopefully help her keep fighting. She still has a chance of surviving, as I have kept telling her, and she has some of the best equipment and staff there to help her out. But, as she has told me, it's going to be a "hard row to hoe." On a more optimistic note, though, she has also said that she HAS to make it out of this, because, in her words, "I've got a grandbaby to take care of."
I know that when I post, I'm usually ranting and/or trying to come off as some kind of comedic badass... but right now, I just feel like a scared little kid who's terrified of losing his mom. Every day since Wednesday has been filled with spells during which I've just broken down and cried uncontrollably, and I can't bring myself to fully concentrate on anything else. I don't remember any time during which I've ever been through so much emotional pain. I know that the most physical pain I've ever endured was my appendicitis in 1999, but I would gladly go back into that hospital bed and undergo it all again if it could just bring my mom back out of her current situation.
Mom was the biggest influence on my mental and creative development when I was a kid. She stayed at home and sacrificed a truckload so that I, her only child, could have a better life. She taught me how to read when I was two and a half years old, and she supported just about every hobby I ever had - from "magic" tricks to video games to DJing. She has always been there for me and my dad, and regretfully, as I have gotten older, I know that there have been a number of times that I have taken her for granted. I've never let more than a few days go buy without talking to her and seeing how things are going, but I know that I could have visited more or done more with her and my dad over the last several years. Luckily, I've had the chance to apologize to her for all of that, and I've promised her that when she gets out of this, I will visit more often and do whatever I can to help out.
For those of you with any faith at all, please pray for my mom and my family. I don't remember ever feeling as emotionally weak and helpless as I am now, and I would appreciate just about any support that could come our way. Thank you very much.
Badger
PS: Ironically, today marks the one-year anniversary of my final day at DTAG. A week or two ago, I was planning on making a happy announcement here about how much my life had improved since then. I guess things don't always work out like we expect. - DJB
Current scent: Faint lingering traces of 212 by Carolina Herrera.
I haven't posted anything here for a while, for a number of reasons. Mainly, I have been so busy with a lot of big new changes in my life that I just haven't gotten around to it.
As most of you probably recall, I got married in January and X was born in April (yes, we conceived him earlier than we should have - thanks, Ovcon 35!). On top of that, we also purchased our first house a while back, so that we could move way-far-away from the little "Ghettohell" that our apartment complex was quickly becoming.
I had been working all this time as a temp employee at a safety products company. It was not an amazing job, but I worked with a really good team of people and I enjoyed it a lot more than DTAG. The money was not nearly as good as DTAG, but we were still doing pretty well.
Well, about 2-3 weeks ago, my boss (well, the guy at the company to whom I reported, not my boss at the staff agency) called me into his office. I was really apprehensive and he told me that even though they unfortunately were still unable to hire me on as a full-time employee, I could feel secure that unless something drastic or unexpected came up, I would be employed there until at least the end of October. He knew that I had a new baby and that I was currently in the middle of moving, and he wanted to put my mind at ease that I could at least have my job until that point. So, that was awesome. I happily told Lanna and my parents so that they, too, wouldn't worry too much about me.
Okay... Now, on to the worst week of my life. (Those of you who read Lanna's journal entries will find a lot of redundancy here. Sorry.)
Thursday, July 12
I didn't feel the best that morning, so I called in and missed work. Later that day, I was feeling a bit better so I ran to the apartment to grab some more stuff and move it to the new house. On the way home, I found that I had a flat tire. This was not a major surprise, since the tire had been "low" a while back and after reinflating it I figured it was just a matter of time. I stopped by a QT and was able to re-air it enough that I could make it home and change it out for the spare "doughnut."
Friday, July 13th
Lanna drove me to work, and after work we went and saw "Weird Al" Yankovic in concert to celebrate being married for 6 months (as we call it, our 6-month half-assaversary). That wasn't a bad part of the week. In fact, that was pretty awesome.
Saturday, July 14
I discovered that the "doughnut" on my car had also gone flat. Great. Later that night, Lanna and I went to meet a friend in Owasso for dinner, and on the way there Lanna's car started smoking badly from under the hood. Her friend and she thought that the car might be low on transmission fluid, and after dinner they went off to purchase some more, leaving me there to take care of X.
While waiting for them to return, I got a call from my dad at their hometown regional hospital. My mom had been admitted for breathing problems. While this was very worrisome, I also knew that she'd had breathing problems for a long time (she had gone through lung cancer in the past few years and was taking breathing treatments at home on a regular basis), so I figured this was something that she would fight through easily and get better.
Sunday, July 15
I bought a new tire for the car - a little under $100. Argh.
Monday, July 16
I was called in by my boss again. As it turned out, his earlier estimation of "end-of-October" was incorrect. Due to unforeseen budget cuts, my last day would now be... THIS FRIDAY, THE 20TH. So, the challenges in my life now included not only clearing out the remaining crap from the apartment and getting the new house all set up, but also finding a new job. As you can imagine, I was pretty crushed, but I took it professionally and knew that it wasn't my boss's personal fault.
Wednesday, July 18
I took a short day to take a doctor's appointment regarding some chronic pain I was having in one of my legs. After that, at 6:00 PM, I received a call from my dad from a Tulsa-based hospital; my mom had been transferred there. I ran up there to find out that the carbon dioxide levels in my mom's blood had gone so far up that even the hospital's equipment couldn't measure them. She was nauseous and incoherent, with tubes up her nose, just sitting there, with a container in front of her in case she vomited, terribly fragile. The steroids that they had been giving her at the hometown hospital had turned the skin on her arms into a random mottling pattern reminiscent of a blueberry muffin.
After 2-3 hours there, they moved her to the Intensive Care Unit. We were told by one of the doctors that they were going to have to hook her up to a machine to force oxygen down into her lungs and try to reoxygenate her blood. If they weren't successful, then they were going to have to put tubes down into her lungs, and that would be the last resort. They then asked us questions about what her "wishes" were in such a case (whether to keep her going or just pull the proverbial plug), and it was all too much - nothing for which I had been prepared at all.
I went in and talked to her in the ICU room, and she was mentally gone... I was afraid the concentration of carbon dioxide had already done so much brain damage that she wouldn't recover. She could at least tell me that she loved me, even if it was muffled and through the oxygen mask.
------
Well, since then, we have had our ups and downs. Thursday, Mom started showing some improvements, and they were able to get her carbon dioxide levels down to a "normal" level for someone with the conditions she'd already had. Still, she wasn't able to breathe on her own, and she hasn't been able to do so yet. She has been talking a LOT better, and she has made it obvious that she hasn't had much (if any) brain damage. Last night, in fact, she made references to old games that she and I used to play when I was a kid, and she even joked around with me and used a Monty Python quote ("More beans!") that had been one of my favourites when I was very young.
For the last two days, they have tried to take Mom off the forced-breathing mask and give her the nose-tube oxygen, but that doesn't work. Also, she has scarring along her esophagus from radiation treatments she's had in the past, which is keeping her from swallowing almost anything in her weakened state. So, today, they will be administering a nutrient IV which will hopefully help her keep fighting. She still has a chance of surviving, as I have kept telling her, and she has some of the best equipment and staff there to help her out. But, as she has told me, it's going to be a "hard row to hoe." On a more optimistic note, though, she has also said that she HAS to make it out of this, because, in her words, "I've got a grandbaby to take care of."
I know that when I post, I'm usually ranting and/or trying to come off as some kind of comedic badass... but right now, I just feel like a scared little kid who's terrified of losing his mom. Every day since Wednesday has been filled with spells during which I've just broken down and cried uncontrollably, and I can't bring myself to fully concentrate on anything else. I don't remember any time during which I've ever been through so much emotional pain. I know that the most physical pain I've ever endured was my appendicitis in 1999, but I would gladly go back into that hospital bed and undergo it all again if it could just bring my mom back out of her current situation.
Mom was the biggest influence on my mental and creative development when I was a kid. She stayed at home and sacrificed a truckload so that I, her only child, could have a better life. She taught me how to read when I was two and a half years old, and she supported just about every hobby I ever had - from "magic" tricks to video games to DJing. She has always been there for me and my dad, and regretfully, as I have gotten older, I know that there have been a number of times that I have taken her for granted. I've never let more than a few days go buy without talking to her and seeing how things are going, but I know that I could have visited more or done more with her and my dad over the last several years. Luckily, I've had the chance to apologize to her for all of that, and I've promised her that when she gets out of this, I will visit more often and do whatever I can to help out.
For those of you with any faith at all, please pray for my mom and my family. I don't remember ever feeling as emotionally weak and helpless as I am now, and I would appreciate just about any support that could come our way. Thank you very much.
Badger
PS: Ironically, today marks the one-year anniversary of my final day at DTAG. A week or two ago, I was planning on making a happy announcement here about how much my life had improved since then. I guess things don't always work out like we expect. - DJB
Current scent: Faint lingering traces of 212 by Carolina Herrera.