A couple hours later we received a phone call from my dad’s friend Dave who was at Lake Powell with him at the time of the stroke. The past few days that they had been in Lake Powell they had experienced horrible weather. It was so bad that they had to dock at a beach in a canyon for two days. On the day of my dad’s stroke, my dad’s friend Frank ended up taking a friend to the clinic at Lake Powell. They took the speed boat they had with them and made their way to the marina despite the fact it was dangerous. That morning my dad had woken up and went to use the restroom. It was at this time my dad had his stroke and collapsed. Dave and Lee, another friend, could hear my dad and found him on the bathroom floor. They picked him up and moved him to a near by bed. With the weather being so bad, and the speed boat gone, all they could do was radio for help. In the meantime, Frank was waiting at the clinic. As he was waiting he could hear Lee over the radio that was in the clinic. He heard that my dad had a stroke and that he needed to be flown to a hospital. It was at this time when Frank contacted my mom.
On that same day we received another informative phone; this time from my uncle. He called to tell us that he was on his way to Denver to come see my dad. After he spoke with my mom, he asked to speak with my dad. Due to my dad being hearing impaired, he cannot hear on cell phones. So my mom put the cell on speaker phone. My dad began to talk to my uncle. My uncle told him that he was on his way. My dad, still not understanding the severity of the situation, told my uncle that he would see him soon. My uncle told my dad that he loved him. As he told my dad this he began to cry, followed by my mom, ending with me. At this point I got up and left the room. I didn’t want to cry, least of all in front of people.
On my second full day in Denver, my uncle finally arrived. I was alone with my dad and my uncle in the hospital room, but it was as if it were just me and my uncle. My uncle begins to explain to me he had the week off for a vacation in Oregon. I felt bad because instead of being on his vacation, he was here. But my dad's stroke wasn't really why he didn't go to Oregon. The day before my dad had his stroke, my uncle's wife explained to him that she wanted a divorce. As if I did not have enough on my mind, I had to deal with my uncle's instable life. He also tells me that I am the first person he has told since it has happened. Within twenty four hours of his wife asking for a divorce he finds out his brother has had a stroke. He might as well have walked onto the highway in front of a full speed bus. It became awkward for me, I felt stuck, and I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully my mom and a nurse walked in. This gave me a moment to slide out.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Super Heroes Continued...His condition explained
“You know where you are, right? You had a stroke.” She explained.
In response he said he knew what had happened. He then kept saying he wanted to back to the ninth floor. We had no idea what the ninth floor was. He went on to explain that on the ninth floor her could walk and didn’t have to wear a catheter.
“Honey,” she would explain, “You have to have the catheter. You had a stroke. You can’t walk.”
He looked at my mom and knew what she was saying, it just wasn’t registering. According to him, his room was on the ninth floor and he was walking. It was one of those experiences where I just wanted to smile and nod. I didn’t want to burst his bubble. I also did not want to think of the idea that he would never walk again either. The rest of our conversation was disconnected. He knew what happened to him and he would repeat it to us. When we finally thought he understood what was going on, he would say something off the wall. For example, he thought the nurses’ station was the loading dock at Lake Powell even though he knew he was flown to Colorado.
Visiting hours ended at midnight and that time was soon approaching. My dad had fallen asleep so there was nothing else we could do. The neurologist would not be in until the morning, so there was nothing new that we could learn about my dad’s condition.
My dad’s nurse had arranged for us to have a cab ride to the Marriot Hotel that has discounted rates through the hospital. The hotel, which is about ten minutes away from the hospital, was seventy dollars a night with the discount. This was seventy dollars that we didn’t have to spend since we were remodeling our living room at the time of my dad’s stroke. The Stratosphere in Vegas was cheaper than the discounted rate we were given.
Once we checked into the hotel we made our way to our room and straight to bed. About six in the morning my mom and I jumped up to her cell phone ringing. You could hear in her voice how startled she was. We had imagined the worse and thought we were going to receive bad news. Instead, it turns out my dad woke up and was bored. He just wanted to know where my mom was and when he was going to see us. I couldn’t believe it. He was bored. He knew he was in the hospital and rather than be concerned with his condition, he was worried about being bored. It struck me as odd.
My mom got off the phone. I don’t think she knew whether to be upset or happy. After that call she couldn’t fall back asleep. We got ready and took a shuttle to the hospital. I swear every time we took the shuttle to hospital, they took a different way each time.
When we arrived at the hospital they arranged for dad’s neurologist to speak with us. She was a spunky woman with curly brown hair with shoes that made her look like she was ready to go mountain climbing. She looked like she did not belong in a hospital.
She began to explain to us that my dad had a clot that was in his carotid artery in his neck. She said that the clot went up into the right side of his brain. This was referred to as an Ischemic stroke, which is the cause eighty-percent of strokes in Americans. She told us that there is a medication that can be applied to a stroke victim that can reverse the affects of a stroke if given in the appropriate amount of time. The first medication needed to be given within the first three hours of a stroke and the second medication needed to given within the first six hours. I kept thinking, “Then why didn’t my dad get that medication?” The doctor continued to say that since was not given the medication in time, the clot remained in his brain. As a result of that a section of his brain had died. Once a part of the brain is dead and depleted of oxygen for more than a few seconds the brain cannot be revived. The right side of the brain controls the left side and that is why he was paralyzed on his left side. Some of this was old news to me; I had learned this in psychology course.
Since my dad was unable to get the medication he needed, he still had the clot in his brain. At that time the only procedure they could do for him was to use blood thinners. The purpose of blood thinners was to keep the blood pumping past the clot and not making it any more severe than it already was. The body actually has to be the one to break down the clot. I didn’t think that was reassuring. Furthermore, we found out that after some tests he had that morning they also found that he was bleeding in the brain and the thinners were making it worse. If they stopped the thinners he could have another stroke. If they continued to use the thinners then he could die if the bleeding didn’t stop. Well this sure was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. At that time they decided that it would best to keep him on the thinners. We decided it was best to trust the doctors.
In response he said he knew what had happened. He then kept saying he wanted to back to the ninth floor. We had no idea what the ninth floor was. He went on to explain that on the ninth floor her could walk and didn’t have to wear a catheter.
“Honey,” she would explain, “You have to have the catheter. You had a stroke. You can’t walk.”
He looked at my mom and knew what she was saying, it just wasn’t registering. According to him, his room was on the ninth floor and he was walking. It was one of those experiences where I just wanted to smile and nod. I didn’t want to burst his bubble. I also did not want to think of the idea that he would never walk again either. The rest of our conversation was disconnected. He knew what happened to him and he would repeat it to us. When we finally thought he understood what was going on, he would say something off the wall. For example, he thought the nurses’ station was the loading dock at Lake Powell even though he knew he was flown to Colorado.
Visiting hours ended at midnight and that time was soon approaching. My dad had fallen asleep so there was nothing else we could do. The neurologist would not be in until the morning, so there was nothing new that we could learn about my dad’s condition.
My dad’s nurse had arranged for us to have a cab ride to the Marriot Hotel that has discounted rates through the hospital. The hotel, which is about ten minutes away from the hospital, was seventy dollars a night with the discount. This was seventy dollars that we didn’t have to spend since we were remodeling our living room at the time of my dad’s stroke. The Stratosphere in Vegas was cheaper than the discounted rate we were given.
Once we checked into the hotel we made our way to our room and straight to bed. About six in the morning my mom and I jumped up to her cell phone ringing. You could hear in her voice how startled she was. We had imagined the worse and thought we were going to receive bad news. Instead, it turns out my dad woke up and was bored. He just wanted to know where my mom was and when he was going to see us. I couldn’t believe it. He was bored. He knew he was in the hospital and rather than be concerned with his condition, he was worried about being bored. It struck me as odd.
My mom got off the phone. I don’t think she knew whether to be upset or happy. After that call she couldn’t fall back asleep. We got ready and took a shuttle to the hospital. I swear every time we took the shuttle to hospital, they took a different way each time.
When we arrived at the hospital they arranged for dad’s neurologist to speak with us. She was a spunky woman with curly brown hair with shoes that made her look like she was ready to go mountain climbing. She looked like she did not belong in a hospital.
She began to explain to us that my dad had a clot that was in his carotid artery in his neck. She said that the clot went up into the right side of his brain. This was referred to as an Ischemic stroke, which is the cause eighty-percent of strokes in Americans. She told us that there is a medication that can be applied to a stroke victim that can reverse the affects of a stroke if given in the appropriate amount of time. The first medication needed to be given within the first three hours of a stroke and the second medication needed to given within the first six hours. I kept thinking, “Then why didn’t my dad get that medication?” The doctor continued to say that since was not given the medication in time, the clot remained in his brain. As a result of that a section of his brain had died. Once a part of the brain is dead and depleted of oxygen for more than a few seconds the brain cannot be revived. The right side of the brain controls the left side and that is why he was paralyzed on his left side. Some of this was old news to me; I had learned this in psychology course.
Since my dad was unable to get the medication he needed, he still had the clot in his brain. At that time the only procedure they could do for him was to use blood thinners. The purpose of blood thinners was to keep the blood pumping past the clot and not making it any more severe than it already was. The body actually has to be the one to break down the clot. I didn’t think that was reassuring. Furthermore, we found out that after some tests he had that morning they also found that he was bleeding in the brain and the thinners were making it worse. If they stopped the thinners he could have another stroke. If they continued to use the thinners then he could die if the bleeding didn’t stop. Well this sure was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. At that time they decided that it would best to keep him on the thinners. We decided it was best to trust the doctors.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Super Heroes Continued...
We finally got up into the air. What was only supposed to be about a forty minute flight turned in an hour-long flight. The airport in Denver is a hub; therefore, it is one of the busiest in Midwest. It was so busy at the airport, our plane could not land, and we had to do circles in the sky for fifteen to twenty minutes. As if we weren’t anxious enough to get to the hospital, both my mother and I had to use the restroom but the fasten seatbelt sign was on. After circling in the sky a few times we finally said “Screw it!” and we unfastened our seatbelts.
Once we landed, it did not feel as though we were any closer to reaching my dad. Due to the cost of cabs, it was recommended that we use a shuttle. Once we found a shuttle to take us to the Swedish Hospital, we had to wait before leaving the airport because the shuttle would not leave until it had enough passengers. When we finally had enough passengers it seemed as though the driver took the longest possible way to the hospital. Before we could even be dropped off, we had to drop the other passenger off at another hospital.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, we had to be dropped off at the emergency room entrance because it was after hours. When we walked in we had to go through a security check with a police officer. Just another delay setting us back. The officer opened the electronic doors, and we made our way back to the Critical Care Unit. The C.C.U. contained four halls which were lettered A through D. Each hallway contained five to ten rooms. The doors were sliding glass like the ones commonly seen on patio doors.
We made our way to the nurses’ station. My mom began to tremble. A nurse greeted us. She could tell by our luggage that we were the family from Salt Lake City. She told us that before we go that she wanted to let us know that he does not look the same. The hospital preformed an experimental procedure on my dad involving lasers on his head. To do the procedure, they had to shave it. My mom began to cry, and I became scared. What was he going to look like? Was I going to recognize him? My dad has had the same hairstyle my entire life. Every month he would dye it a medium brown color leaving gray only at the sides above his ears. I had never seen my dad’s scalp except for a tiny spot on the back of his head that was thinning.
Before we walked into the room, the nurse explained to us that he had a clot go up into his brain on the right side. As a result of the clot, he was paralyzed on the whole left side. The nurse continued on to say that he could communicate; he was just a little disoriented. If he wakes up, the nurse explained that we needed to stay on his left side because he is paralyzed on that side, he would need to compensate for the damage and try to get that side working again.
We walked into the room and found my dad sound asleep. To our surprise my dad looked good with his new shaven head. In fact, he looked younger. Looking better than we thought was reassuring. Lying on the bed he looked helpless. An image I have never seen. He woke up when he heard us walk in. My mom walked up to his bedside to see how he was doing.
Once we landed, it did not feel as though we were any closer to reaching my dad. Due to the cost of cabs, it was recommended that we use a shuttle. Once we found a shuttle to take us to the Swedish Hospital, we had to wait before leaving the airport because the shuttle would not leave until it had enough passengers. When we finally had enough passengers it seemed as though the driver took the longest possible way to the hospital. Before we could even be dropped off, we had to drop the other passenger off at another hospital.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, we had to be dropped off at the emergency room entrance because it was after hours. When we walked in we had to go through a security check with a police officer. Just another delay setting us back. The officer opened the electronic doors, and we made our way back to the Critical Care Unit. The C.C.U. contained four halls which were lettered A through D. Each hallway contained five to ten rooms. The doors were sliding glass like the ones commonly seen on patio doors.
We made our way to the nurses’ station. My mom began to tremble. A nurse greeted us. She could tell by our luggage that we were the family from Salt Lake City. She told us that before we go that she wanted to let us know that he does not look the same. The hospital preformed an experimental procedure on my dad involving lasers on his head. To do the procedure, they had to shave it. My mom began to cry, and I became scared. What was he going to look like? Was I going to recognize him? My dad has had the same hairstyle my entire life. Every month he would dye it a medium brown color leaving gray only at the sides above his ears. I had never seen my dad’s scalp except for a tiny spot on the back of his head that was thinning.
Before we walked into the room, the nurse explained to us that he had a clot go up into his brain on the right side. As a result of the clot, he was paralyzed on the whole left side. The nurse continued on to say that he could communicate; he was just a little disoriented. If he wakes up, the nurse explained that we needed to stay on his left side because he is paralyzed on that side, he would need to compensate for the damage and try to get that side working again.
We walked into the room and found my dad sound asleep. To our surprise my dad looked good with his new shaven head. In fact, he looked younger. Looking better than we thought was reassuring. Lying on the bed he looked helpless. An image I have never seen. He woke up when he heard us walk in. My mom walked up to his bedside to see how he was doing.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Super Heroes Continued...
We eventually left the house for the airport. Bonnie dropped us off at out terminal where we sky capped our bags. I think that was the first time my mom had ever sky-capped. In a situation like this, I was not about to wait in line to check in our luggage.
Our gate number was B18. Although Salt Lake International Airport is probably one of the smallest international airports, B18 is one the farthest gates there. What was a ten-minute walk seemed like a lifetime. When we finally got to our gate we sat down because we were going to be that last to board according to our boarding pass.
My mom wanted to call and speak to my dad. Earlier when my dad had arrived in Denver he was awake and coherent and able to talk. My mom wanted to tell him we were on our way and wanted me to talk to him. She began speaking to him, and immediately her eyes were filled with tears. She told him that we were coming, but saying that was difficult for her. I looked at her and told her she could go to the bathroom. I took the phone and saw her walk away. I put the phone up to my ear nervously. I did not know what to expect. I did not know what someone with a stroke sounded like. But to my surprise I could understand him, and he understood the situation he was in. I told him we would be there soon and that I loved him. Then I hung up the phone.
My mom still had not come back from the bathroom. I didn’t know how to comfort her. It was the tendency for my family to hide their feelings. Anytime anything was wrong, I would hide in my room so my family couldn’t see me. I think we all did this. Being a shoulder to cry on for my mom seemed out of the ordinary.
Our gate number was B18. Although Salt Lake International Airport is probably one of the smallest international airports, B18 is one the farthest gates there. What was a ten-minute walk seemed like a lifetime. When we finally got to our gate we sat down because we were going to be that last to board according to our boarding pass.
My mom wanted to call and speak to my dad. Earlier when my dad had arrived in Denver he was awake and coherent and able to talk. My mom wanted to tell him we were on our way and wanted me to talk to him. She began speaking to him, and immediately her eyes were filled with tears. She told him that we were coming, but saying that was difficult for her. I looked at her and told her she could go to the bathroom. I took the phone and saw her walk away. I put the phone up to my ear nervously. I did not know what to expect. I did not know what someone with a stroke sounded like. But to my surprise I could understand him, and he understood the situation he was in. I told him we would be there soon and that I loved him. Then I hung up the phone.
My mom still had not come back from the bathroom. I didn’t know how to comfort her. It was the tendency for my family to hide their feelings. Anytime anything was wrong, I would hide in my room so my family couldn’t see me. I think we all did this. Being a shoulder to cry on for my mom seemed out of the ordinary.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Super Heroes Continued...
My mom could not think straight. I am still amazed that as frazzled as she was, she was still able to figure out how to operate the telephone. So Bonnie had to make the flight arrangements for my mom. Bonnie wasn’t going to fly with her so my mom was going to go by herself. Since she was going by herself, I asked if she needed me to go. Her only answer that she would give me was “if you want.” This went on for a few minutes. I was becoming frustrated. She would not give me a straight answer. I had never been in a situation like this, so I did not know what was expected of me. When she finally called me back with the airfare prices, I told her I would go.
It was three o’clock. The flight was scheduled to leave around five. I rushed home. I was so lost in thought and confusion that by the time I made it home I realized that I did not even remember the drive. But I didn’t have to worry about that because I needed to pack. I grabbed whatever I could find in my closet and didn’t think twice about what it looked like. That was not the best decision, as I would soon find out.
Even though my mom had been getting ready before me, I finished packing before her. In the meantime, I went outside to talk my mom’s friends. My mom had been with Becky and Bonnie for the past two days for a girl’s trip up in Park City. My mom had just arrived home when she received the phone call from my dad’s friend to tell her what had happened. Bonnie’s husband was on the same trip as my dad when he had his stroke. Bonnie’s husband called her and told her what had happened. As soon as she found out she went straight to my house and informed Becky of the situation.
When I walked out into the garage to go outside I noticed thick and heavy grey clouds in the sky. There was a slight breeze, and I should have been wearing a jacket, but at that point I did not care. I don’t how the conservation began, but Becky and Bonnie explained to me how relieved they were that I was going with my mom to Denver. She believed that my mom was too stressed to go on her own.
My other superhero was strong--until now. I have rarely seen her cry. The only time I have seen her cry is when a family member passed away. Even then she has always managed to be discrete about her feelings. She is the one who stays together and I am the emotional one. Now, she was the emotional one and I wasn’t. Anytime I watch the news and hear a sad story I begin to well up with tears. But now when something has happened to me, m eyes remain bone dry.
I had decided in the back of my mind that there was a reason for this. My body was preparing itself. Things could get worse really fast, and my body did not want to exhaust itself yet. I kept telling myself the future was going to be the most difficult part. I didn’t know what hurdles I was going to have to jump, so I needed to stay calm. Plus, what good would that do for my mom?
It was three o’clock. The flight was scheduled to leave around five. I rushed home. I was so lost in thought and confusion that by the time I made it home I realized that I did not even remember the drive. But I didn’t have to worry about that because I needed to pack. I grabbed whatever I could find in my closet and didn’t think twice about what it looked like. That was not the best decision, as I would soon find out.
Even though my mom had been getting ready before me, I finished packing before her. In the meantime, I went outside to talk my mom’s friends. My mom had been with Becky and Bonnie for the past two days for a girl’s trip up in Park City. My mom had just arrived home when she received the phone call from my dad’s friend to tell her what had happened. Bonnie’s husband was on the same trip as my dad when he had his stroke. Bonnie’s husband called her and told her what had happened. As soon as she found out she went straight to my house and informed Becky of the situation.
When I walked out into the garage to go outside I noticed thick and heavy grey clouds in the sky. There was a slight breeze, and I should have been wearing a jacket, but at that point I did not care. I don’t how the conservation began, but Becky and Bonnie explained to me how relieved they were that I was going with my mom to Denver. She believed that my mom was too stressed to go on her own.
My other superhero was strong--until now. I have rarely seen her cry. The only time I have seen her cry is when a family member passed away. Even then she has always managed to be discrete about her feelings. She is the one who stays together and I am the emotional one. Now, she was the emotional one and I wasn’t. Anytime I watch the news and hear a sad story I begin to well up with tears. But now when something has happened to me, m eyes remain bone dry.
I had decided in the back of my mind that there was a reason for this. My body was preparing itself. Things could get worse really fast, and my body did not want to exhaust itself yet. I kept telling myself the future was going to be the most difficult part. I didn’t know what hurdles I was going to have to jump, so I needed to stay calm. Plus, what good would that do for my mom?
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Super Heroes
I walked into the customer care department and went straight for Natasha’s phone. My mom explained to me that my dad had a stroke. She continued to say that due to weather, my dad and his friends could not get out of the canyon they were in. As a result, they were going to life flight him to Grand Junction. The plan was that my brother and I would stay put. My mom’s friend Bonnie was going to drive her to Grand Junction. I don’t think anyone trusted my mom to drive four and half hours by herself.
Once I got off the phone I felt my legs shaking. My manager looked over at me and asked if I was OK. I told her that I thought so. She told me if I needed to go home I could. But what good would that do? My dad and mom, from two different directions, were both on their way to Grand Junction. I couldn’t imagine sitting at home thinking the worst. My mom didn’t want me and my brother to go with her, so that idea was out the window. Plus, the information had not sunk in, so I had yet to understand the severity of the situation. I decided it was best to stay at work and keep myself busy.
About forty-five minutes later I received another phone call. I saw my mom’s number appear on the caller ID of my cell phone. I could feel my heart beat quicken, and my hands fumbled as I went to answer the phone. I listened to my mom’s calm voice. A sense of relief came over me. They were going to send my dad to Salt Lake. It was going to be a little past five when they would expect him to arrive. This bit of information made everything seem so much easier. I get off work at five so I had planned to go to the University of Utah Hospital right after. I was unsure of how to get there, but I figured that would be my last concern.
Right when I thought things were going to get easier I was wrong. It was my mom again. The weather was too bad, so they were not going to send my dad to Salt Lake. Instead, they were going to transport him to Denver. My family had never been to Denver, and I never imagined my first time there would be under these circumstances.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Super Heroes
They fight crime and chase away the boogie man. They have the answers to anything and protect you from everything. When they are needed they can be there in lightening speed. They can read minds and find you when you are lost. They are the land movers and the music makers. They are the world’s superheroes. But even superheroes have bad days.
On May 3, 2007 my superhero just so happened to take a vacation with his friends down in Lake Powell, Utah. That day for me had started out cold and wet, not to mention bad. I was on my way to work, and I was only minutes away when I passed the duck pond at the Metro Business Park. On the left side of the road there was a brown speckled colored duck. A white worker van was approaching the duck. Instead of slowing down like most drivers, the van driver continued on, startling the duck. To avoid getting hit by the white van, the duck flew up into the air. However, the duck made a big mistake. Instead of flying away from the cars, he flew in front of my car. It was too late. I heard a huge thunk. I hit a duck. I could not believe it. I had hit a duck. I pulled over and got out of my car. I looked around. There was no duck in sight. I know I hit the duck. I heard it. Where it went, I had no idea. That was my first sign that the day had no where to go but down hill.
When I arrived at work I was helping out in the warehouse instead of my usual routine of talking to customers on the phones. Shortly before lunch I was getting ready to clean up the project I was working on so that I could go eat. I heard the foot steps coming in my direction but choose not to look up. I assumed it was one of the warehouse workers coming to pull a gown off the shelves.
“Shanene!” yelled Natasha. I looked up. I knew something was wrong the moment she said my name. I could hear the panic in her voice. The first thing that came to mind was my grandfather. He is almost eighty-three. I thought “it must be time.”
But it wasn’t my grandfather. It was my dad. He had a massive stroke. But that couldn’t be right. He is only fifty-seven. That is still young. He is always moving and working hard. This is the man who goes up to the Uintas every weekend in the summer to go backpacking. He is the one who would take just a backpack up in the mountains for a week at a time so he could make it to King’s Peak. He was my dad. This couldn't happen to him. He is invincible.
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