Jump to content

A Birth Grandmother's Role


Recommended Posts

Mari, tears are coursing down my face as I read about your families harrowing experience. Praise be to God that she is healthy again and for your strength through such an ordeal. As others have said, I too wait to see how your story unfolds.

Blessings,

Erika

Link to comment
Share on other sites

You've got me sitting in that hospital right next to you holding your hand and praying as you re-tell it Mari.

Edited by suziandben
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Dear Abrazo Family,

I want to again thank each and every one of you for your continued encouragement and support. By now you are pretty much in the middle of our journey and probably can understand much better the struggles I have experienced with sharing our story and reliving those days, though I relive them often. This has been therapeutic for me which is good, so I thank each one of you, my therapist group. ;)

I also would like to thank all who have posted congratulations on my daughter’s blog, though I wasn’t’ too proud of her when we found out she was pregnant, (I wanted to strangle her) she really has come a long way and is working very hard to accomplish her educational goals and her desire to make her daughter proud of her someday will keep her focused.

Blessings,

Mari

Don’t worry that you’re not strong enough before you begin. It is in the journey that God makes you strong.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Continuation....Part 16

While we sat by my daughter’s bedside and waited for them to move her to a room, we had the opportunity to get to know the ER nurse that was assigned to stay by her bed side. Anna shared with us how she had ended up in town and at that particular hospital. She was originally from Mexico, and had been in the states going to college.. while living in Galveston, working at a hospital there and going to school, we learned that she had secured her job shortly before a hurricane had hit the Galveston area. She originally had no plans of leaving, “was going to ride it out”, but she told us that her dad was really concerned for her and kept calling her to leave the area, she finally agreed and looked for a job, found one with an opening, applied, and was hired all within a weeks’ time, moved days before the hurricane hit.. She was one of the lucky ones and able to get out. It was nice to think about something else, something other then what we had been dealing with for the last 24 hrs. My daughter pretty much slept on and off, and I took the opportunity on one of her naps, to step out and call her school, I advised them that she wouldn’t be in school for several days that following week and that she was getting admitted to the hospital for test. Though they had been aware that she had not been feeling well for weeks, I didn’t tell them what they had found so far, only that I would call them as soon as we had some more information, her counselor gave me her cell number and asked me to call her as soon as we knew something, I assured her that I would. I also called my work, and advised them the same thing, though to that point my co-workers had no idea what our family had been experiencing for the last several months, but I also assured them that I would call them as soon as we had more information.

Not long after I went back in with my daughter, several nurses from the NCCU came in to move her up stairs; they unhooked her from the large machines and hooked her up to the portable ones. We thanked Anna, the ER doctor for all they had done, and we were on our way to the top floor (the penthouse, I kinda like this name better then critical care unit). Due to my daughter being pregnant, she had to be in the adult portion of the hospital, she was the youngest patient in the NCCU and it was as if the nursing staff took extra care with her, which was a blessing I thought.

The neurosurgeon came in about 4pm to check on his “kiddo” patient, as he started referring to her and to make sure she could handle the MRI. The neurologist assigned to make the rounds came in to meet her/us and to examine her; she was still on the pain medication (morphine) so she continued to sleep most of the day on and off as best she could, because the nurses would come in every 30 minutes to take vitals and temp. Her dad again asked me if I was going to notify any family, and AGAIN, I reminded him that until I knew more information, I didn’t want to call anyone. The only two families that knew she was even pregnant were my oldest daughter and son in law, my brother and sister in law. What about her sister, “she will want to know,” he said, but I told him that my daughter flew into town right away when I had informed her that her little sister was pregnant because she was really worried about her and wanted to be there for her, I didn’t want her to jump on a plane again without us first knowing what was going to happen or what we were dealing with. I also really needed the time to just be able to take in what had happened to this point. I didn’t want questions or to explain, not that I was in denial, I knew perfectly well what had happened, but it was almost like if I verbalized what had happened with those outside of the medical staff or us three, it would be too hard to take, it would just be too real, not that it wasn’t, I don’t know that I can really explain my thoughts or my rational at the moment. It was just important to me to not only protect my daughter but everyone else in my family from any heartache. I wanted time just with her and to deal with my own feelings and thoughts without anymore distractions or concerns.

Her ob came in to check on her before she headed home for the day, she would be by the next day (she was on call), the neurosurgeon had called her and kept her updated with what had transpired since that morning and was pretty much keeping her in the loop of everything they were doing, she was aware that they had requested an MRI and he would call her with the results as soon as they had them. After she left and while my daughter slept, I thought about my daughter’s ob, originally she was not the doctor with whom I had made an appointment with for my daughter, but the other ob dr. had a pretty busy schedule and when they wanted to reschedule her first appointment because of the doctor’s schedule, and we had already been waiting a little over two weeks, I asked for them to give us another doctor, which is how we came about having her current ob.. I thought about how compassionate she was with my daughter and with me, how much time she took to answer questions and explain things during my daughter’s monthly appointments, all the time she had spent with us just that day and her genuine concern for my daughter as a person not just a patient. I wondered if the other ob doctor would have been as good with my daughter, friendly and compassionate, hummm, it was as if this was the ob she was meant to have all along.

To be continued.....

Edited by 1st x grandma
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I may have missed it, but what was your daughter's ob name (the nice one)??

Keep telling this story; on the edge of my seat. ;)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mari thank you so much for reliving your experience and sharing it with us. I feel as if I am right there with you. I am reading your posts through tears. I feel as if I personally know you and your family. You truly are amazing with your writing. Your daughter is a tough cookie and so is her mom.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Your daughter and granddaughter are even bigger miracles than previously thought. What an amazing story. Your granddaughter will cherish it some day.

You are so right, our two miracles and so much more, an unbreakable bond like no other I know, is theirs and held only between them two.

Blessings,

Mari

Edited by 1st x grandma
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Continuation….Part 17

As I sat there watching my baby girl sleep, I thought about how peaceful she looked, even though she had this tube coming out of her forehead and into this contraption, she was the most peaceful she had been in weeks. My thoughts only interrupted by the nurses that would come in frequently and check the equipment into which the tube was connected and attached, I didn’t mind though, because it was important that the equipment helping the fluid drain from her head was set where it needed to be. This tube was connected to a ruler looking pole and into a bag, (like an IV bag), there was a red laser light on the pole that was used to make sure she was at the right angle degree, leveled with the bag at all times. This ensured that the right amount of fluid was draining, not too much nor too little, the light had to point right at the center of her ear, so if she was moved up or slid down, or even when they had to move her bed up or down, it had to be adjusted. She couldn’t be laying flat, she had to be at I believe it was a 45 degree angle, so every time they needed to move her, they had to shut the valve off, move her, set the pointer light to measure, adjust the pole then turn it back on. It worked as a magnet by pulling the fluid out, so it was vital that it was very precise. They also had to measure how much fluid was draining, so this tube dripped the fluid into a syringe looking holder, after measuring they would empty the fluid into the bag. She had to be on her back, couldn’t lay on either of her sides, I wondered if she was comfortable, but I guessed that compared to how she had hurt before, this was so much better.

My daughter has three indoor dogs as I mentioned before, the poor things hadn’t been let out nor fed since we had left very early that morning, though my husband keep saying he needed to go let them out and feed them, I knew he didn’t want to leave until they did the MRI and I couldn’t blame him, I certainly wasn’t going to leave her side either.

Shortly before 7pm they came by to advise us that they would be taking her down for the MRI, they again unhooked her monitors and hooked her up to portable ones, making sure that the equipment draining the fluid was just right, and shut off for the time being. We were allowed to go with her and before long we were on our way through the back elevators and corridors to the sub level floor. We waited with her until they took her in, at which time a technician took us to the waiting area and advised that it would take about an hour to an hour and a half; he would come back and get us as soon as they were done. Another wait, I should have been getting use to this, but somehow it wasn’t any easier. I would pick up one magazine after another and just flip pages, absent mindedly looking up at the TV which was on and then again turning the magazine pages, the clock up ahead seemed to move in slow motion, It felt like we had been waiting for hours, but it had only been minutes, “God, please help me be patient, help her get through this, don’t let this be anything bad, keep her in your care and watch over her and her baby.” My husband in the meanwhile was reading a paper that had been left there, or-at least I thought he was reading it, maybe he was also just staring at it without really seeing it as I with the magazines. Other then the noise from the TV, the place was very peaceful and quiet for a long time, then another person was escorted in to wait for their loved one, this person was upset that her cell phone was not working down there, really just making comments to herself, I hadn’t even noticed this with the cell phone, since earlier that day I hadn’t even looked at mine, there were no phone calls I needed or more like wanted to make.

Finally the technician that brought us into the waiting room came to get us; it had been almost two hours. As we were walking back, all of a sudden I got this feeling of dread and apprehension, I wasn’t sure what it was, but I couldn’t shake it, and the return walk seemed to take so long, why is it taking us so long to get there? I thought, I wanted to run and get there quicker. When we got back to the area of the MRI lab, they still hadn’t brought her out, but we were allowed to wait there, within a few moments they wheeled her bed out and almost at the same time her surgeon appeared at her bedside. The MRI showed that her brain had a lot of swelling and a lot of fluid, but the worst part was that it determined that she had a brain tumor. It was as if we were hit by a moving freight train, I had to steady myself to keep from falling, my eyes welled up with tears, and even though I tried so hard not to cry in front of my daughter, mainly not to scare her, it was impossible for me and I just couldn’t keep my tears from streaming down my face. She would need surgery as soon as possible, several factors needed to be considered, first they needed to make sure enough fluid was safely removed, allow some of the swelling to go down, because the tumor was in a difficult area, her surgeon didn’t want to work with a weekend crew, he had his team of doctors and nurses he preferred to assist him. Normally, if you could say normally,” brain tumors in children and teens are found on the outer base of the brain,” but hers was “located in the pineal gland, which is found down in the bottom center of the brains two hemispheres,” he said, he also told us that the gland is the size of a pea and tumor looked to be the size of a large seedless grape, because of its size and location, it was working as a stopper and blocking the fluid from draining down into the spine. The other thing they needed to take into consideration, was the fact that she was pregnant, he would contacted her ob and they would take all possible precautions to save the baby and not cause undue harm, but we were told in no uncertain terms that their first priority was our daughter. He was ordering daily CT scans to keep track of the fluid and swelling, not sure how soon they could do the surgery, but it would have to be soon, he would be by in the morning to check on her.

The road of the unknown was started once more, this time it was more serious then her/us dealing with what now seemed like “just” a pregnancy. It’s funny how ones perspective can change so quickly. We may feel overwhelmed by an unplanned new life, and then due to circumstances beyond our control the changing tides come and sweep us up the next day and we have to re-evaluate what is important in life, what seems like a tidal wave ready to swallow us up is thrust in our direction, would things get easier once we stop fighting against the strong currents? I wanted to disappear into my own private little world, away from this heartache, away from this reality that had come out of nowhere, I wanted to take my daughter with me and start anew, I wanted to turn back the hands of time, but of course I couldn’t. All the way back up to her room we went in silence, it was as if we were walking in a fog and too afraid to speak or make any noise, but maybe it was fear of what laid around the corner of the days to come.

To be continued....

Edited by 1st x grandma
Link to comment
Share on other sites

My step mom just had a cyst removed from her brain. I know what your feeling all too well.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

You are so right, our two miracles and so much more, an unbreakable bond like no other I know, is theirs and held only between them two.

Blessings,

Mari

You are right. But you can't deny the unbreakable bond you have with your girls either. I have always believed that in so many ways you were their great protector and their strength - and one of the biggest reasons they are both so beautfiul and healthy today.

Shelley

Edited by shelley
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Continuation….Part 18

We were finally back in her room, the walk and elevator ride seemed to be eternal and filled my head and heart with such gloom and dread. After the nurses got her situated, all hooked back up, her dad was finally ready to go home, well, really with mixed emotions, but he had to go let out her dogs and feed them, I gave him a list of things to bring us back, I had no plans of leaving her side. We both planned on staying with her the night. The nurses would continue to come in every 30 minutes to check vitals and the equipment extracting the fluid in her head. I sat there next to her bed and we just made small talk, she flipped through the TV channels not really watching anything in particular. I wondered how she felt in regards to what the doctor had informed us, but I was almost afraid to ask her, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to be able to handle the intense emotions she might have or the questions. So I figured that I would let her take the lead on it, I knew if she wanted to talk about something and when she was ready she would, I felt like a coward, but I was going to wait for that time.

Sitting there watching her as she would doze off and on, the only sounds were coming from the nurses’ station and from the different equipment they had her hook up to, these sounds were in a way a blessing. They seemed to accompany me without really having someone right there with us, it allowed me to retreat into my thoughts, yet I didn’t feel like we were alone. I thought about the last several months, and just a month ago we were at her sister’s wedding, thank God this had not happened while we were out of town. One thing after another had been happening in what seemed like such quick succession, this just wasn’t where I saw our life going 5 months earlier, not even 3 months ago. I thought about my fears early on in her pregnancy, when she talked about adoption, those morbid thoughts I had about losing her, those thoughts that her baby would be my only connection to her, and here we were, in less than 24 hours we had been told twice her child’s life was in danger. I had mixed emotions; again I thought if it was maybe better for her to lose her child this way instead of through adoption, either way, I knew it was going to be a heartache for her and us, my pain though in no way would compare to hers. If the baby made it through, were all these close calls meant to tell us that we should keep my granddaughter? All of a sudden, my anxiety began to mound when my thoughts went to my daughter’s life, was she going to be alright? Were they going to be able to take the tumor out? My God, could this mean that she could have cancer? This important realization had escaped my mind before, or maybe I had just mentally blocked it out. I thought about her school friend’s family, what they had been going through the last year and a half with their daughter’s cancer. How could two friends be in such similar situations? I literally had to hold a pillow to my face to keep her or anyone else from hearing me cry out in fear and in a mother’s pain for her child. I sat there for a long time, just hugging the pillow and wishing it was my daughter I could sit there hugging and holding.

My husband walked in close to midnight, and even though I had the lights in her room off, he must have seen the tears on my face with the light reflecting from the nurses’ station. “Is everything ok? Did something happen?”, he asked, I just nodded that nothing else was wrong, but I really wanted to shout that no, everything isn’t ok, this isn’t suppose to be happening, we weren’t suppose to be here, our baby shouldn’t have to be going through this, didn’t he realize that this was bad enough, didn’t he realize that she could have cancer, or that she may not make it through the surgery, what else did he want to happen???? Though I knew that it wasn’t his fault, actually no one’s fault that we were here or that I felt the way I did. This emotional wave that was flowing or more like pouring out of every pore in my body, I knew wasn’t a sign of weakness, but of fear for my child and for my grandchild, and though I tried to resist these enormous waves of emotional despair, the dramatic changes that had happened were causing me to lose my battle with common sense and tempting me to lash out at whoever or whatever got in my way.

As we both sat in darkness keeping vigil over her, I thought that at least now we knew what was wrong with her, and she would get some much needed relief, but it was scary as well. I thought back again to the months earlier, and tremendous guilt came over me like a dark shadow that engulfed me, guilt for not realizing that something was seriously wrong, guilt for telling her to suck up the discomfort when I thought it was only due to her pregnancy, because she had allowed herself to be in that predicament, guilt for being so tough on her that she had hated me for so long, guilt for telling her to get an abortion, and guilt for being a lousy mother that let her child get to this point in her life with these struggles. Every time she would move or wake up we would jump to make sure she was ok, just as we had when she was a new born baby and we had brought her home, those first few weeks and months that any sound they make brings us scurrying to their side. Though now even if she wasn’t a baby to others, to me and in my eyes, she will always be my baby no matter her age, whether she liked it or not.

Sometimes my husband and I would talk in hush tones, just to fill the silence of the night, or maybe to push and drown out our own thoughts. He again asked me when I was going to tell my mom and my daughter, “I don’t know, let’s see what her doctor tells us in a few hours.” Though it had been a long two days, and we were both running on very little sleep, and I knew I should have been pretty tired, I just couldn’t relax. I felt like I couldn’t shut off the tears that kept coming, I thought about my daughter out of state, I struggled with the question of calling her or not, I didn’t want to frighten her, but I knew she would want to know and I owed it to her, but how would I tell her, and my mom, how do I tell her? I didn’t want to call her, I had to do it in person, but that also meant that I had to tell her that her sixteen year old granddaughter was pregnant, “God please help me and guide me, with these struggles.” How I dreaded telling either of them this news, how I dreaded putting them in the pain that I knew they were bound to feel. I wanted to spare them the feelings we had been experiencing for the last two days.

To be continued.....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Following your journey all the way, every word and every emotion!

Hugs,

Karen

I feel the same way. Thank you for sharing this very difficult time with us Mari

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Continuation….Part 19

The night seemed to be eternal, but in a way, I was grateful for that, because I didn’t have to make any phone calls, I didn’t have to see or hear pain in any of my family, I didn’t have to make any decisions right then and there. Morning would come soon enough, I thought, I would face those questions then. Right now I just needed to be where I was, where I was needed the most, even if I couldn’t do anything more then hold my daughter’s hand, caress her face, and kiss her cheek, and let her know she was not alone, yes, this is where I needed to be, this is where I belonged and this is what I needed to be doing, everything else could wait.

Earlier in the evening they had brought her some straw looking sticks with a sponge at the end, with a cup of ice water, and because she couldn’t drink or eat anything, we had to dip these little sponges in the ice water and let her just suck the water out. A first this was satisfying, but by now, 3 in the morning, this was doing little for her, we would put two in at a time, she was famished, so I know she was doing a lot better then she had been the entire day before. We had to keep a watchful eye on her, because I knew she want to take a big gulp of the ice water, “just a little drink, please,” she would ask us, no matter how hard it was to tell her no, we had too, so after she would have enough to quench her thirst, (which really wasn’t as satisfying or ever enough), she would doze back off. Since they had her on pain medication and meds for the swelling, (morphine, steroids), the IV, potassium, measuring the fluid that would drain from her head and that she was positioned and leveled with this, monitoring her vitals, it seem like her nurse was always coming in, when it wasn’t one thing it was another, something either beeped or had to be changed out, or given etc., It amazed me that my daughter was able to get any sleep at all, but it was good that she could sleep, it would keep her from thinking of food or her thirst.

Her dad and I took turns sitting by her bed, while he would be there, I would wander over to the window and look out at the street lights, the dark and quiet night. I thought about our friends who were just beyond this building, in the children’s oncology ICU, how were they doing? Were we looking out at the same scenery during this sleepless night? How strange it felt to know that not only us, but someone else we knew so well, were keeping vigil over our same aged daughter’s. What would the doctor find with my daughter’s tumor? Would she as her friend have to endure the chemo and everything that came with it? Was she strong enough to handle what would come her way? Were we strong enough to handle what would come OUR way? Only time would tell.

I was taken away from my thoughts when a couple of lab techs came in to draw blood from my daughter. Her nurse also came in to tell us that they would be taking her for a CT scan at 5 am, it was 4:45, I hadn’t looked at the clock since 3 that morning, the time had gone by and all of a sudden, I felt like we had been here for days. They again went through the routine of shutting off, disconnecting and reconnecting to portable machines for the transport to the sub level, we would wait in her room. They told us it would be 15 to 30 minutes, and off they went. My husband went to find me a cup of coffee, and while he was gone, I went to walk a little bit, I just needed to clear my head, but I also didn’t want to wander too far off, I had to be there when they brought my daughter back. Within 20 minutes they were coming off the elevator and bring her back, by the time her dad returned with my coffee, they were re-hooking her back up. We asked the nurse what time the doctor made his rounds, she advised that he was pretty punctual and would be on the floor by 7am. While my husband was there, I stepped out to drink my coffee, I didn’t want to drink it in front of my daughter, especially since she couldn’t have anything to drink or eat yet. By now I think I needed a gallon of coffee, just for the caffeine fix to settle my nerves. I walked into a little waiting room and started to again think about my family, do I tell them or do I wait? I still didn’t know what I was going to do, and just as I was getting ready to leave the waiting room and go back into my daughter’s room, I saw a book sitting on a coffee table, and then I see several more, there was a little sign that said to take one. I wondered where they came from, I know I hadn’t seen them there when I came in, there was no way I could have missed them, or could I? The book is called “THE UPPER ROOM”, prayers for comfort, words of faith for times of pain, these words were on the cover, and as I flipped it open, the first prayer I saw was the following, God says: "As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.” Isaiah 66:13. At that moment, I knew that I had to tell my family, because just as I had been comforting my child, I knew my mom would want to be there to comfort her granddaughter and me, her child. This was my answer, I didn’t have to struggle with wondering if I should tell her any more, I knew I had to, now it was more of how, how was I going to do it? I knew that the rest of our family would want to be there to comfort my daughter as well as her dad and I.

To be continued.....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What a neat sign, Mari! I'm so glad that book was there to be of comfort to you. I have had subscriptions to the Upper Room and many times the verse and reading for the day was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. Isn't it great how God works in such mysterious ways?!

I'm anxious to hear more of your story...

April

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What a neat sign, Mari! I'm so glad that book was there to be of comfort to you. I have had subscriptions to the Upper Room and many times the verse and reading for the day was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. Isn't it great how God works in such mysterious ways?!

April

God gives us answers and comfort in such wonderful little ways all we need to do is look.

April, Char,

I agree with you both, you already know I am a big believer in signs... Sometimes I just need to be more observant, not only with my eyes, but my ears and heart. My little booklet has been a blessing since I picked it up on Nov.1. Have read it and re-read it numerous times.

Hope all dads new and old had a wonderful father's day.

Blessings to you all,

Mari

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Continuation….Part 20

Before we knew it, we noticed that it was already starting to get light in the far horizon, we made it through another day, the floor was still a little quiet, but I was sure that wouldn’t be lasting long, I went to wash up and we waited for her doctor to come by. My daughter was awake and surfing through the TV channels, not much selection on the basic channels, so her dad was going to go and purchase the cable package once they opened the business office, he said so she would have a better variety of channels, but I knew it was more to help keep her occupied and keep her mind off of what was happening as much as possible (of course this would be something if we could accomplish). I thought, November 1, it’s all Saints day and tomorrow would be all Souls day, I said a silent prayer for all the saints to watch over my child and intercede with prayers on her behalf to our holy father. My husband needed to go home to let out the dogs and feed them, but was going to do it after we saw her doctor. Fresh ice water and more sponge straws had been brought to her earlier that morning. A little later her new day nurse came in to introduce herself. She told us that the doctor was already on the floor making rounds and would be in shortly. Not sure why, maybe it was lack of sleep or food, but I remember feeling that my stomach had tighten up, almost to brace myself for something, though I didn’t know what else we could be told that was worse then what we already knew. My daughter wanted to use a mirror to see what had been done the previous morning, so I had caught the nurse outside to check if we could clean her up a bit so she wouldn’t get scared when she looked in the mirror. I was afraid of hurting her, but the nurse offered to do it for me, later that day they would wash her up and change her gown, but for now Elizabeth (her day nurse) tried to clean up as much of the blood and numbing medication she possibly could that was still on her forehead without interfering with the tube.

While sharing small talk with her nurse, and while her vitals were being taken, my daughter had mentioned that she was “starving,” Elizabeth told her that she would let the doctor know and see what he wanted to do about meals for her. Just as they were talking, her doctor came in, “hey kiddo, how are we doing today”, that became his greeting to her. She told him she was ok, but she was hungry and wanted tacos. He laughed and told her she must be feeling much better, but he wanted her to start off with a liquid diet, if she could hold down the liquid diet the rest of the day, she could then have all the tacos she wanted after that.

He checked her out, tested the strength of her legs, arms, hands, also asked her if she knew what day it was, if she knew where she was and why she was there, her responses surprised me a little, she had very little memory of all that had happened and why she was there, she knew where she was, but didn’t remember much past that previous Thursday around mid day, bits and pieces of what had happened was all she could recall, and those things she did remembered, were kind of foggy, she felt like the events were more of a dream then reality. In a way I was glad I hadn’t asked her earlier about it, but then I thought maybe I should have. She remembered when I had gotten home from work two days before and what I was wearing (at least the colors) when I went in to check on her, her next memory was vaguely of the EMTs and getting mad because she wanted to sleep and said they were bothering her, after that, her next memory was of the doctor shaving her hair, or she said was it that someone had told her it had happened? She remembered the nurses that held her hands down to keep her from reaching up when the hole was drilled to insert the tube the previous morning, she remembered talking to Anna, the nurse assigned to watch over her after the procedure, but not a whole lot more of that previous day’s events. I started thinking that I hadn’t yet given her the mirror to look at her forehead and wondering if I should, though she knew the tube was in her forehead and they were draining fluid, I was now unsure if she should look, she had some swelling from the procedure, Elizabeth had not been able to get all the blood and medicine off, so I was unsure if she would be ok seeing herself. I decided that I would just wait to see if she asked about it again.

He checked the tube and fluid amounts that were being removed and asked her about any pain or discomfort, she said it was only a little sore around the tube coming from her forehead, and she felt bad about the hair that he had to shave off. He told her “I am sorry, but that’s what I had to do to save your life at the time, you are a very sick young lady and very lucky that your parents brought you in when they did,” he continued to tell us that if we had waited much longer to get her to the hospital, she would not have made it another day. I knew it was serious, I knew that we were dealing with something very delicate, but until that point, since they first thought it was a severe case of preeclampsia, I had not thought again about the possibility of her dying, and certainly not if we had not brought her in the morning before. Hearing his words, understanding exactly what he was saying, and just thinking and knowing that she had come so close to deaths door, caused the realization to send chills throughout my entire body, and again I felt the tears well up, but fought to keep them at bay. I watched her as he spoke, her eyes got watery and tears trickled down the corners of her eyes.

He told us that he wanted to make sure we knew and understood how serious and critical her situation was, he didn’t want to scare any of us, but he owed it to us to let us know where things stood. Though I know this probably sounds like he was sort of blunt and cold about it, it was completely the opposite, he was very compassionate, he isn’t a soft speaking man, he is a big (tall) deep, gruff talking cowboy, but there was something about the way he spoke to her and us, there was a gentleness that I had already seen in him the day before, without really knowing him, somehow we trusted him completely, and appreciated his honesty. His words were ringing in my ears, and re-playing almost in slow motion through my mind, the fact that we had been so close to losing her, tested my ability to remain in control, to stay firmly grounded and strong for my child. We were just at the beginning of this new unknown territory, there was still so much more to come, our journey continued even more uncertain then before, trying to grasp it all and put it in perspective felt like an enormous task, it was tough to think past any of this.

To be continued.....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

gosh - as a pediatric Oncology nurse - I feel for you and your family - I have helped many families of children with brain tumors- none that were expecting since they had to be cared for in an adult setting prepared to assist with the delivery. I am so proud of my medical "team mates" for being so kind and compassionate with you and your family.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I am so in awe of your faith and your courage and your strength and your grace in the face of such fearful circumstances... God, too, must be smiling down on you and your daughter and granddaughter, thinking "that's my girls!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

gosh - as a pediatric Oncology nurse - I feel for you and your family - I have helped many families of children with brain tumors- none that were expecting since they had to be cared for in an adult setting prepared to assist with the delivery. I am so proud of my medical "team mates" for being so kind and compassionate with you and your family.

Heidi,

My upmost respect for you,,, you have a tough job. The nursing staffs as do the doctors have such an impact on a family going through a roller coaster of emotions; unfortunately they can make them or break them when they are at their most vulnerable. Your "team mates" in SA have certainly made you proud. It takes special people to fill yours and their shoes, the pain that many of you also feel for families, especially when you get to know them, must be hard on you as well. This family, MY family certainly experienced the compassion and love as well as seeing their professionalism in action to ensure everything went as it should. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for what you do and for all the families you touch in your life and with your percious gift.

Elizabeth,

Oh how I see and cannot deny that my daughter and my granddaughter share an amazing strength, they are fighters and survivors. God truly has blessed us with them both, more times over then we fully know. I now know I am strong, stronger then I could have ever imagined, (of course would have preferred for that strength not to be tested so much) but even so, certainly can’t begin to even compare my strength to what they have survived and been through to this point.

Blessings,

Mari

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...
×
×
  • Create New...