I have not written specifically about my mom because where would I even start? She has done so much for my family and me that I could never write everything. Seriously, I could write for days and not get it all. So, for now, I will at least write about some of what she did for me in the hospital.
My dad had passed away on Christmas day of 2006. During the following 11 months she sold their home, took over the finances and built a smaller but still beautiful new home. The pain of losing my dad was still very fresh and raw but she was doing her best to keep going, probably counting the days until she and my dad are reunited.
When I had my stroke, her mama bear instinct kicked in and she spent all day, every day at the hospital, and made the hour + drive home every night. At first we were all living from moment to moment so we didn't imagine how long my stay there would be. Within a few days, though, she decided that new arrangements needed to be made, so she left her brand new house to collect dust while she moved into the guest house by the hospital. Every single morning at 8 she would show up and stay until 5 ish when Robert would come. Keep in mind that I could not talk at all and could not even move. While I was in the ICU and then on Neuro Acute floor, she would sit next to my bed, learn the sign language alphabet, tell me stories about the outside world and read to me. We probably read every book ever sold at Deseret Book. She read for hours and hours every day. She was also an expert at bathing me, and other basic care. Lets just say no mother should ever do for a grown child the things she did for me.
When I moved to Rehab wing (5 years ago today) she was right along with me. Still, every day. She went to therapy right along with me and at times, pushed me harder than my own therapists did! When I had a small break between sessions, she would pull out the yummy smelling oil and massage my feet and legs. Ahhh. As it was around Christmas, many of my friends brought small decorations. I still use the decorations and they still bring tears to my good eye when I put them up. However, I wanted nothing to do with it that particular year. I did not want to be reminded of the time of year or what I was missing, so she would take every little gift out of my room and save it for later.
She got to be good friends with all my Therapists, Doctors, Nurses, CNA's, Psychologists, and every time we took a walk around the huge campus, she would be greeted by numerous people. It was like I was with a celebrity!
She did things for me like showers, suctioning my trach, cleaning incisions, etc.
Once in therapy, I bent over, and immediately got violently ill. Every time the nurses would put anything in my feeding tube I would be near tears and beg them to stop. Not even strong pain medication would help. My mom told the staff that she would NOT leave that night, and "slept" in the chair next to my room. The next morning, Dr. McLaughlin came in to check on me (a wonderful, wonderful guy) and she felt impressed to tell him that she thought my feeding tube had come out of place. He said she may just have figured it out and ordered an X ray. Sure enough, it was out. So they took me in for surgery, accidentally put the new one in my lung, took me in for another surgery where they made about a 4 inch incision, and then they had to do another procedure to place a tube in my back to drain out all the building infection from putting food and meds through my body where they should not be. Had she not paid attention to her promptings and we had waited even one more day before finding the problem...well it could have been terrible.
During all this, I spent about 3 weeks in IMCU, one step down from ICU. Talk about boring! Not a thing to do but watch talk shows and read books and chat. Chatting was really fun since I was finger spelling everything.
Every day the Physical Therapists would come by. Even in IMCU I still had to work. Once I totally embarrassed my poor mother when everybody was trying to get me to take a much dreaded walk. I turned to the PT and flipped her off. Now, I am not a swearing person, especially not in front of my mom, but my vigorous head shakes and pleading eyes just were not cutting it. My poor mom, I thought she would die right where she stood.
Another time in IMCU, the therapists wanted me to sit up in a chair for a while. Again I vigorously shook my head and kept signing no, no, no, to my mom. Nobody paid any attention and put me in the chair anyway. They then all left the room to visit with other
I finally returned to Rehab and again, she was there every day. After much too long, my Dr.s were ready to let me go. I was far from ready to go home, but there was nothing more they could do for me. I had not even thought this through and I guess I figured I would be able to walk out of the hospital and just pick up where I left off. Isn't denial great?
When the Dr. asked me where I would go after leaving, I just looked at him thinking, "Am I not going home?" My mom answered without even seeming to consider at all, "She can live with me."
So before I was released she had grab bars put up, ordered a shower bench, took off doors, rearranged furniture, made sure I had home health and rehab, learned how to take apart/put together my wheelchair, was trained on my medications and how to handle my feeding tube, and many, many other things.
When I left, I think the staff was more sad to see her go than they were to see me go! Whenever I talk to anyone from there, they always want updates on my mom. She is beloved by every person there. But she is my mom so I get to love her the most. And I do!
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