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.
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