It was between 1-1:30pm when I first heard Neil coughing. It was 5:23 pm when I called 911…5:43pm when I called my boss as I was pulling out of our driveway, the ambulance had already left. I’d left our Shih Tzu on our bed, and asked her to come get the dogs, which she did. I think the second ambulance transported him to Heart Hospital of Austin, which I’d never even heard of, between 2-3am. He was stable, still in a medically induced coma. Our youngest had informed me he’d gotten a ticket to fly in the next day. I followed the ambulance, as I do not know the area well. When we arrived, I spoke with the cardiologist in the hall while they moved him into the bed, going over everything I knew, and his past history. He was concerned (finally, someone listening about this!) when I told him Neil’s stroke history – 2 pontine strokes, one corpus callosum, another I don’t remember- all ischemic, and one small hemorraghic in the left front parietal lobe. After going over everything (and being asked for the first time of many if they had performed therapeutic hypothermia, to which I replied that I did not know, I don’t think it had been mentioned, but I couldn’t say for sure), I was whisked out to a waiting room while they “got him situated.”
That waiting area at whatever-dark-time-in-the-morning is where I began to realize I’m going to have to see a therapist. Not that I didn’t need one already (as Suzanne Stabile says, everyone needs a therapist!), but the knowledge of how close I came to losing him, and then the longer it took, the thoughts of “what is happening? Did his heart stop again? Did his brain stop?” that clamored in my head….I prayed, as close to constantly as I could, but the thoughts, and the choking realization that I might have lost him That Day (well, the previous day now, but that didn’t matter then)…out of nowhere? His heart has always been strong! His cardiologist had run minimal tests after the 2nd round of strokes and we were finally referred to one and all of them were perfect so he said his heart is good. That solid, rhythmic “thump thump” was my pillow at night. We had lived, both of us, with the knowledge that he could stroke at any time, and be gone. I don’t think either of us had considered his heart would be an issue. If he had, he had never mentioned it. Men -if you do, please mention it to your partner. Now, suddenly, his heart …I had to be wary of it also. Yes…I’m going to have to find someone. Later.
After what seemed like forever, a nurse came and took me to him. He was safely ensconced in the bed, with tubes and machines whirring and humming, and I took comfort in watching his heart rhythm on the monitors. I was told his oxygen had been below 50% when the paramedics first picked him up at the house, and learned another tidbit of life saving import -don’t trust home finger oxygen monitors when respiratory issues are involved! As the doctor then informed me, they are notoriously wrong when breathing issues are part of the complication. So when we thought his blood oxygen was upper 80’s (get to a hospital when this happens, he’s just incredibly stubborn with medical ptsd) it was actually much lower. Potentially brain-injury-inducing lower.
Trust your gut when it starts screaming “something is wrong.” If I’d called an ambulance in the preceding hours when things didn’t feel right, even though he said not to, he might not be enduring what he is now. I might still have him with me, as he was. Or he might have sent them away and not called later when we had to. Another tip – try not to play the ‘what ifs’. Obviously, I need to practice at that!
The Time We Have Been Given 