A Matter of Life and Death

The Hallway, originally uploaded by PhoenixRyzing.

Recently things have been a little bit more hectic in my life. It started a little over a month ago, when I became concerned about the mental well being of my mother. She wasn’t remembering things that happened recently, she couldn’t sleep, and the most alarming was that she blamed me for the recent death of my grandmother.

My grandmother died over twenty years ago by a massive heart attack. It was so bad that I had begged her over and over to go get checked out by her doctor. The turning point came when she started having pains right underneath her right breast. She finally made the appointment to see her doctor.

I found out that she went for her doctor appointment at 2pm. Her doctor wasn’t there, but at another location and she ended up seeing her partner. When she left the office she had to go back a few minutes later, because she forgot her bus pass. As my mother was going back to the bus stop her cell phone (that she recently got about two months ago after much convincing) rang. It was her doctor’s office telling her to get back at the hospital, because the emergency room was waiting for her.

At 7pm that night I found out she was admitted. At 7:30pm I was on the next train into Boston MA and crashed at a friend’s house that night. I figured there was nothing else for me to do and I doubted that they would allow me to visit. Besides, it wouldn’t do either of us well the next morning if I didn’t get any sleep the night before. Needless to say, I was so mentally exhausted that sleep came quickly.

In the hospital the next day I found my mother attached to monitors, fluids, and other such normal hospital machinery. She was also the color of Homer Simpson. She had a dull yellowish-orange tint to her skin and the whites of her eyes. Less than two hours later we rode in an ambulance from The Cambridge Hospital to The Somerville Hospital. Both are in Massachusetts and both have become so improved over what they were ten years ago.

When we got over to Somerville the major news was that Ben Affleck just left the hospital, where he was filming a new movie. The tale was that one of the receptionists had run after him, and eventually caught him to snag a photograph. I’ve always felt a small connection to Ben, because not only did he go to the same high school (along with Matt Damon), but his mother, Casey Affleck was a teacher when I was a small boy. This can easily be proven by a written document that I’ve never gotten rid of. She was and will always be one of my favorite teachers.

As we were traveling to the hospital via ambulance my mother kept mentioning death, but for some reason I wasn’t scared or even had acquired the thought of her death. Instead a call came into the radio that she heard. It was a call that made me positive that my mother wasn’t going to die from this mystery inside of her body.

“Assistance required at 237 Franklin St. Cambridge MA, apartment 15A”.

My mother asked me, “Did they just say 237 Franklin St. 15A?”

Me: “Yes, yes they did”

My mother slowly closed her eyes, but to me I knew that a message had been sent.

My grandmother died at 237 Franklin St. apartment 15A.

Someone was watching.

When we got to the hospital in Somerville it didn’t take long for them to wheel her into the operating room. It seemed like she was in there for a good nine hours, but in truth it was only about three. The nurses let me in right away and the doctor came to explain what was going on.

My mother had her Gallbladder out back in 2001 and she thought that it meant all was well. It seems over the past few years massive amounts of stones had been building up in the bile duct that is attached to her liver. The massive amount of stones backed up the bile into her liver and kidneys, poisoning her blood over the past few weeks.

My immediate reaction was to ask the doctor about her being delusional and not in her right mind. He confirmed that her having blood poisoning would definitely cause that reaction.

He had gone in and broken up most of the stones, placed a stint (a straw like device that opens up and stays open, allowing the bile to flow freely in the duct) inside of her. The doctor also told me two massive stones the size of golf balls were still inside of her, but that they couldn’t remove them, because they didn’t have the proper size tool to do so.

Another surgery would have to take place about two weeks later, but until then she would need rest, antibiotics, and a bland diet. The first thing that happened after she woke up was the need to go into the bathroom. It’s the first time in about two weeks that she’s been able to go. (I found this out later on)

It was a very good sign, because it meant the duct was open and the poison was being allowed to get out of her system. On the same day that my mother survived Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett both passed away.

After the operation she spent four days in a hospital bed, before they released her. They sent her home with a bunch of prescriptions including two antibiotics to help clear out the infection in her system. She was still not herself for a few days after, but slowly she got back to a normal routine.

Nine days later and we’re back at the Somerville Hospital to get the rest of them out. We get to admitting where there is a nice lady sitting behind her desk. I look up at the picture on the wall and laugh. She asked me if I liked the picture of her and Ben Affleck. I asked her if she the one that ran him down to get it and she confirmed that it was true and that she would do it all over again if need be.

The attempt to get the two golf ball sized gallstones became complete in about one hour and twenty minutes. The nurses remembered my mother, how sick she was, and how she reacted to everything around her. (Or how she didn’t react)

When she came in this past week for the attempt, she knew everything that was going on, was joking, and her color was/is much improved over the horrid look she had that day.

We don’t know if they got everything, but the nurses said they got a massive amount out this time and things are looking really well. The took out the old stint and put in a new one that should either come out on its own or will be removed in a five minute procedure.

In a few days she’ll get the report on how many stones they broke up, how much might be left (if any) and actual pictures of the nasty critters.

My mother is back to her normal self. She has no memory of the situation leading up to and after the operation. Each passing day her skin takes a step back to looking normal. She still has a little bit of the yellow tint, but not compared to The Simpsons.

I’ve been absent from this blog and this is the main reason why.