Anatomy of a Head Bleed...Part Three...In Retrospect...

 

Time has a way of moving forward and prayers have a way of being answered.  Slowly, but surely, I came closer and closer to the person I was before all this occurred.  I began to feel gratitude in my heart that I hadn't felt before.

After my release from the hospital, I asked my daughters and my husband to write their feelings about this experience.  They were first hand observers of their mother's (and wife's) most recent trial.  No amount of preparation could have prepared me for what each one of them shared with me.  Their words and feelings were heart wrenching and enlightening.

Kim shared her thoughts:  "...Mom was in so much pain...she didn't look so good.  My first reaction was, 'Oh, I can't stand to see my mother in so much pain, what can be done?'"

Debi also stated her concerns, "You were in a lot of pain and weren't talking a whole lot...you wanted to be left alone."

JerriAnne said, "When I looked into her eyes laying in that hospital bed and saw great pain and confusion, this made my heart hurt deeply.  I wanted to take all that pain and confusion away for her."

My youngest daughter, Heather, has a very difficult time processing her feelings.  She is the most like me in that regard.  She has not yet sent me her list of feelings.  But her silence speaks volumes to me.  I know in my heart that she was touched deeply by this experience but just can't bring herself to talk about it. 

I can relate so completely to the feelings of my daughters.  I, too, experienced those feelings ten years ago, as I watched my own mother suffering excruciating pain every day for three months before she died.  My heart broke every single day, and I spent hours on my knees begging my Heavenly Father to take this pain away from my mother.  I could not bear to watch her in so much pain.

My husband's words touched me the most.  He wrote, "We were more than concerned--we were stoically squelching our fears to appear 'strong' but, inside, worry, fear and prayer were all bubbling up in a confused or rampant admixture of...'HOPE?'"

Physical pain is subjective in nature and can only be felt to whatever degree by the person who is suffering with it.  However, there is another kind of pain--the compassionate objective kind that is experienced by watching a loved one in agony.

To say that what I was going through was a unique experience, never known by another human being, would be a lie.  There are many people in this country and, yes, even in the world, who have faced the same anguish and fear that I was feeling.

Prayers

I'm very grateful for trained and experienced surgeons who can work miracles, but I know the greatest healer of all is my Savior.  It was through faith and prayers that my life was spared.  At the very beginning, my thoughts matched those of my husband, and we asked for the Elders of my Church to come and give me a Priesthood blessing prior to my ambulance ride to Portland.  The blessing I recieved was powerful and promised me that I would come through this crisis in my life with no impairments.  I held on to those words as I went forward.

Again, with my daughters surrounding my bed in Portland and my husband also present, the Elders of the Church were saught out and gathered to give me another Priesthood blessing.  I do not remember that blessing.  I do not even remember them coming into my room.  But the peace that surrounded my troubled spirit gave me hope for a positive outcome.

Personal prayers were also offered on my behalf.  Kim shared her experience with prayer: "When I went to bed that night [Monday] I prayed that they would be able to move up the surgery and that they could relieve the pain in my mother's head.  My prayers were answered, as the next day they said they were taking her into surgery that day."  She also commented on the family prayer she offered before I went to surgery.  "That was a very humbling experience, too.  I could feel the Spirit comforting all of us as we gathered around mom's bed and I said a prayer of thankfulness and asked for [a] blessing to be upon mom and all of us and our families."

I have four of the most amazing daughters living on this planet, but I also have a loving husband.  When I read his thoughts on my experiences, I cried because I could not imagine what he was going through.  During my surgery, he went to the hospital quiet room and took time on his knees to pray diligently for me.  He told me later, there was a little book in the room placed there expressly for the purpose of people with concerns to write their feelings and prayers.  He wrote in that little book, "Praise God for His blessings; blessed by His Son, the Grand Healer who, through Him, creates miracles for ALL of us, every day."

Kim left her thoughts in that book, also:  "So grateful today for all of the blessings we have received.  Thank you, Lord for answering our prayers and sending this comfort."  And Debi added: "'...THY WILL BE DONE...' Thank you Heavenly Father!"

I love my family.  I love them for their faith.  I love them that they are close to the Lord and that they know how to listen to the Spirit.  Their prayers, and the many prayers said in my behalf by dozens of friends and family and those who pray for the sick and afflicted in the Temple, reached the ears of the Lord and He answered them!  I am so grateful!

I was released from the hospital three days after my surgery.  I faced a long, upward climb back to where I was before.  Mentally, I had to re-train my brain to do even the simplest tasks like getting a spoon to my mouth.  It was also difficult to get the task I was thinking in my head to travel the correct pathway to my arms and hands and respond with the current action.  In the beginning, I couldn't type correctly on the computer keyboard; I couldn't write a sentence with a pen; and I couldn't put my hands together to play familiar music on my piano.  These were all devastating to me.  But I was determined to move forward.

Physically, I had issues with balance and gait when walking.  I kept running into things.  The use of a walker was a Godsend, but still I would push it into a wall.  Two months of Physical Therapy brought strength, balance, and coordination back to my body.

I lost all of my hair because they had to shave my head before surgery, but even that is coming back.  I look at pictures of my former self and then I look in the mirror and laugh.  Yes, that former me had long hair that I loved to wear in all kinds of styles, but this new me (my husband calles me "M") with barely an inch of hair on my head, looks at life with gratitude.

As time has moved forward, and my prayers have slowly brought me closer and closer to the person I was before all of this occurred, I have begun to feel that gratitude that sustains me.  It has been heightened by this entire experience.  Coming so close to lifting my hand and knocking on the Gates of Heaven has made me realize how fragile life is.  I'm eternally grateful that mine was spared.  I haven't figured out yet for what purpose, but I'm sure even that will be made known to me on some future day.

Anatomy of a Head Bleed...Part Two...Family Reunion and The Fix..

                                            Oregon Health & Sciences University Hospital

 

You may be asking yourself the same question I asked myself, over and over again, as I was transported to the Neurological Intensive Care Unit at Oregon Health Sciences University in Portland.  That question was, just what is a subdural hematoma?

I didn't want to rely solely on my own knowledge of the subject, so after all was said and done, I did some research.  I did know that our brain is the electronic powerhouse and controller of our bodies, shaped much like the two halves of a walnut.  Wrapped around that brain is a tough, protective meningeal membrane called the Arachnoid Mater.  Between that membrane and the next one, is a small  space, which is the home of bridging blood vessels.  The other membrane, the Dura Mater, is the second protective covering for the brain.  The hard shell, which is the skull, surrounds the whole mass and gives the brain its final protection.

I turned to the Internet to answer some of the questions I had and found three sources that helped me understand the anatomy of my brain bleed.  The first, Wikipedia, was the most helpful and it is the one I will include here.  Another one, Medline Plus, from The U.S. National Library of Medicine (NLM) and the National Institute of Health (NIH) just confirmed what Wikipedia said and gave me a little extra insight.  The last, A.D.A.M. Medical Encyclopedia, (Pub Med) also a publication of the NLM and the NIH, agreed with the information from the first two.

According to Wikipedia, "a subdural hematoma or subdural hemorrhage is a type of hematoma, a form of traumatic brain injury."  In other words, as the result of some sort of injury to the brain, those tiny blood vessels in the space between the two membranes covering the brain rupture and the resulting blood flow attempts to fill that limited space.  When that space is filled, it starts compressing on the brain itself.  Because it is beneath the Dura Mater, it is called subdural.  Intra cranial pressure then begins to rise and as a result, can cause brain tissue damage.

There are two types of subdural hematomas, according to Wikipedia.  They are acute and chronic.  Of the two, acute is the most life threatening.  These are often the result of "high speed acceleration or deceleration injuries...and have a high mortality rate."

"Chronic subdural bleeds develop over a period of weeks, often after minor head trauma."  Wikipedia states that these bleeds are common in the elderly, due to atrophy (shrinking) of the brain, which stretches the veins in the subdural space making them fragile and easily broken.

Visitors

On Monday, I had a pleasant surprise when my four daughters came to see me.  I was deeply touched.  My husband also managed to get an emergency week off work to be there.  In many ways, it was like a great family reunion.  But it was sad to have to be centered on such grim circumstances.

I don't remember a lot about Monday.  Most of it was a blur because of the pain and the meds I was given to treat it.  JerriAnne said, "The pain killers...(made) her loopy."  Debi said, "You were...in a lot of pain and you wanted to be left alone."  My husband said, "I saw that, even with pain meds, she was literally tormented with head pain and just wanted to rest."

The morning of Tuesday, June 18, 2012 brought many changes and emotions to my life.  With those changes, I felt unsure of my future.  I was angry--"Why me?  What have I done to deserve this?"  I was afraid--"What can I expect as an outcome of brain surgery?  Will I be cognitively or physically impaired?  Would I have memory of who I am and what my life had been or was like?  And, I was anxious--anxious for my family, anxious for my friends and of course, anxious for myself.

An unthinkable, but predictable phenomenon happened in the afternoon of that Tuesday.  I looked around the room, into the eyes of my four daughters who had traveled great distances from their various southwestern homes to be at their mother's bedside, and I didn't know who they were.  Dean said to my youngest daughter, Heather, who was holding my hand at my bedside, "She doesn't know who I am."  Heather looked at him, with sadness in her eyes and said, "Yeah, mom didn't know me either."  As Dean said, I didn't know the man standing near me as my husband--I only knew his name, "Dean."  I didn't know where I was.  When asked that question, I answered, "Utah," my home for much of my adult life and the state I was born in.  I didn't know what day it was or even the month, date or year.  It was interesting, however that I knew who was our President.  "Obama" was the answer I gave, spoken loud and clear in a low, guttural tone.  My doctor and his assistant were concerned.  He immediately cleared his surgical schedule and they prepped me for a craniotomy, "Now!"  Time was not on my side.  The longer we wait, the bigger the bleed will become and the pressure in my brain could do more damage.

I was wheeled out of the room on a gurney.  I left my family not knowing whether I was going to have a complete craniotomy, where they remove a sizable portion of the skull to get to the hematoma or drill burr holes and place a drain to accomplish the same goal.

I don't remember going for an MRI on the way to surgery.  I don't remember being wheeled into the surgical suite.  And, thankfully, I do not remember the surgery.

My heart goes out to my family as they were witnesses to these events.  Somewhere in my confused state, I did know I was in good hands.  I placed my brain in the hands of a brilliant and competent surgeon.  I was in the hands of trained nurses and OR technicians, who knew their job and would perform their duties.  And, I was in the hands of my loving Savior, the ultimate healer and physician, who knows my life from beginning to end.  He will place His hands upon the surgeons hands and guide him every step of the way.

The Fix

When I awakened, back in my room, I was relieved to find they had only drilled two burr holes in my head.  I could feel a drain coming out of the top of my head, and that felt weird.  I was pretty groggy from anesthesia, so I wasn't much company for my girls or my husband, but I had many questions.

I knew I had some cognitive issues right away.  When I talked, I slurred my words and I had difficulty bringing some words to the front of my brain and ultimately to my tongue.  It was a frustrating feeling.  I did recognize and know, however, who each one of my daughters was.  And I knew "Dean" was my husband.  I witnessed the joy that came into their faces as they saw their mom and sweetheart return to her former self.

***Watch for the final chapter, "In Retrospect"...

Anatomy of a Head Bleed...Part One...The Onslaught

Life has a way of jolting us back to reality from time to time and bringing us 180 degrees back to the realization that life is fragile.  I have experienced a few of those life-changing events as I have traveled my journey.  The most recent shock took me within knocking distance of heaven's door.  I wonder if the world would take note if I had not acted as I did when my hand was raised and ready to knock.

I have been plagued with headaches for a good part of my life.  Though I was never diagnosed, I was convinced I had migraines.  The throbbing pain and sensitivity to light and noise that accompanied my headaches were classic migraine symptoms.

On the evening of June 7, 2012, I was struck down with the worst head pain I had ever experienced.  It was because I knew my head that I chose to treat this one with my prescribed medication and go to bed to relieve the agony.  I had no idea, however, that this pain was not a migraine.  This pain felt like a knife stabbing from the top of my head through to my eyes.

Two hours after taking my medication, I was awakened again with the same intense pain.  This time, however, it was accompanied by nausea and vomiting.  I knew I needed relief, so I shook my husband and woke him.  "I need to go to the Emergency Room," I said.

Barely aware of what I was saying, he grunted, "What?"

"I said--I need to go to the ER."

He opened his eyes and looked at me like I was crazy!  But, recognition of the pain in my eyes quickly told him this was clearly an emergency.  He quickly dressed, escorted me to the car, and drove me to the hospital.  The ER staff did their job and gave me a liter of fluid through my veins, as well as IV medication that ultimately put me to sleep and relieved my pain.  When I was awakened by a very nice ER Nurse to go home, I found that I felt a little dizzy.  They told me that was normal and then told my husband that he could take me home.

Relief is a wonderful thing when you have experienced excruciating pain.  However, I was soon to find that my relief was short lived.  My headaches returned the following day.  They weren't as severe and they responded to my migraine medication so I continued to endure them for another nine days.

I felt in my gut, however, that there was something else going on and for once in my stubborn life, I listened to my deep visceral feelings and did the one thing I should have done ten days earlier.  With the encouragement of my concerned husband, we called my physician.  We explained to him my circumstances, and got a plan from him to get a  CT Scan of my head.  Again we drove to the hospital where I was admitted for observation and a CT scan.

At this point, I felt like I was going through a bad dream.  Nothing seemed real to me.  I remember someone wheeling me to the X-Ray and doing the scan, only it felt like I was in some sort of fog.  Some time after I had returned to my room, my doctor came to my bedside.  He had a concerned look on his face.

"What's the verdict, Doctor?" I asked.

He took me by the hand and looked me in the eyes and said, "Your CT Scan shows a very large head bleed on the left side which corresponds to where your headaches are located.  We are going to have to send you to a hospital in Portland where you can receive a higher level of care."

To say that I was prepared for just such a statement would be an exageration!  Some of the diagnoses which came into my mind were, "tumor," "cancer," or some other phenomenon.  But a Head Bleed had never entered my mind.  It is hard for me to describe what I was feeling.  Numb comes to mind.  I'm a retired ICU RN and I know the seriousness of this diagnosis.  I have helped prepare many patients for transport to a higher level of care facility.  Some of those patients made it some of them did not.

I told my doctor, I wanted to see the X-Ray, so he took me to the doctor's dictating room where the X-Ray was still up on the view box.  When I looked at it, my knees began to get weak and I wasn't sure I was going to be able to stand up.

"Can I sit down?" I asked.  He brought me a chair and the two of us went over the areas of the brain that were affected.  The bleed was huge and had shifted my whole brain to the right side by one millimeter.  No wonder I was having headaches.

When I had seen enough, we went back to my room and the staff got me ready for transport.



***Watch for the next chapter, "Family Reunion and The Fix."

Eleven Years...

    

 Where were you eleven years ago today?  I still remember where I was and exactly what I was doing.  That memory is emblazoned in my heart and I shall never forget!

     America has changed over the last eleven years and so have its people.  On September 12, 2001, all the world came together to mourn an earth shattering event.  It was reassuring that so many could forget their differences, hook arms and pull together to begin to heal
   
 Unfortunately, many have forgotten the pain and the insult and the loss inflicted by a foreign regeime upon American soil.  Many are ready to embrace the enemies and give in to their hatred toward us, thus creating a climate for a "win" for the enemy.  I do not share that view.

     Today, I don't recognize the America of eleven years ago.  We seem to be on a slippery slope to the worst division in our country since the Civil War.

     But, there is hope for America.  Every day I see some of her citizens coming together again, seeking a unity that will bring our trampled Constitution out of the dust and back to the hearts of Americans everywhere.  I see the beginnings with that group of Americans uniting to tell Big Government that we have had enough and are willing to fight to restore our values constructed so painfully by our forefathers.  I want to be a member of that group!

     While we remember on this day our pains and healing wounds, let us resolve anew to never allow such an act to tear into the fiber of what is our strength.  I pledge anew this day to guard our precious land and stand for her sovereignty.  May God continue to bless this great land of America and all of her righteous people.

     I have been saying it for eleven years, and I will say it one more time...I shall never forget.

My Dad...

 

My dad was my heroe!  My dad was my role model!  My dad was on the top of the list of my very best friends!  Today, September 5, 2012, my dad would have been 98 years young!

When I woke up this morning, I told my dad how very much I loved him, and then I got out one of his favorite plaid shirts and put it on!  It felt so warm and comfortable...like my dad wrapping his arms around me and telling me, like he did so many times in his life, that everything will be all right if I just follow the teachings of my Savior and stay close to His gospel plan.

My dad was my teacher!  So many times in my life, I reflect on the things he taught me...either by example or by the things he taught me to be true.  For example, he taught me by his example to honor the Sabbath day and keep it holy when, under real financial stress he decided to close his restaurant on Sunday in order to attend church with his family.  His concern was that he would lose a huge chunk of his income by taking such extreme measures.  But, a wise Bishop promised him that if he would take this step, he would make as much in six days as he had been making for many years in seven. 

So, with his new found faith, he took that leap and closed his restaurant on Sunday, took his family to church and, as promised, he kept his loyal customers and gained a few more, therefore surpassing in six days the income he had been making in seven.  That leap of faith, was a huge turning point in my dad's life.  Within a year, he and my mom entered the Holy House of the Lord in Los Angeles, California and were sealed for not only time, but all eternity.  My sister, Chris and I were sealed to them on that beautiful December day in 1956.

Another example my dad set for me and my brother was giving up one of his bad habits that he had been struggling with for many years.  Many people don't know this about my dad, but he was a heavy smoker for over 20 years of his life.  He struggled trying to give up this habit and was unsuccessful on many occasions.  And then, as he would tell the story, I told him I wanted to have a fireside at our home for the youth of our Ward, but was hesitant to do so, because of the smell of smoke in our house.  Within a week, both my mom and I realized that something had changed.  We didn't smell the odor of smoke in the house any more and didn't see dad smoking.  It took my mom only a couple of days to notice he had quit, but it took me a little longer.  He said he did it for me and for his son, who was serving a mission in Switzerland.  He owed us his good example.

I love my dad for his courage and example.  He was a good father, he was a good son, and he was a good American.  He loved his country and followed politics religiously.  He was raised in a Democratic home in the 20's and 30's, when the Democratic Party followed honorable policies.  When the party changed in the 50's, he went with the Republican Party and voted for Eisenhower.  I listened to his views, as I was an active participant at school in a "mock campaign" and proudly wore the "I Like Ike" button and "voted" for the next President of the United States, Dwight D. Eisenhower.  That was my beginning of my studying party politics.

My dad was an honest man and he viewed honesty as a very crucial part of one's character.  I love that I could trust whatever my dad said, because I knew he would be fair and honest with me.

I am so grateful for my dad, and as I remember him on this 98th Anniversary of his birth, I commit once again to live my life the best I can and going forward to emulate his amazing example.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!

Clicking my positive thoughts...

My daughter sent me a clicker to keep track of my positive thoughts.  I am finding that it really makes a difference!  She sent me a website to go to and read about the testimonies how this simple little device is changing peoples thought processes, thus changing their lives for the better.

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Go to billionclicks.org and see for yourself!

A Beautiful Reception Under a Super Moon...

May 4, 2012...it was a night to remember!  Randi and Travis chose for their reception the most perfect setting.  The place was an amazingly huge greenhouse, complete with flowers and lights, a photo booth (a very popular item) and intimate tables set in a country mood.  To top the celebration off, it was the first night of the super moon, and it did not disappoint.

The guests were not disappointed in the atmosphere.  I heard many an "Ooo!" and "Ah!" from nearly everyone we met there.  For several hours, the bride and groom, parents and siblings smiled the smiles that only a wedding party (or the birth of a new baby) can elicit.  Randi was radiant, and I overheard Travis say something like, "She's my beautiful wife!"

For refreshment, there was a Cold Stone Ice Cream parlour set up where we could fill up to our heart's content with ice cream and toppings.  I got a picture of the cake (which never got served) but it was terribly blurred for some reason, so I won't post it.  It was a three layer square cake, iced in a beautiful green color with a flower on the top.  I did get a picture of the happy couple cutting the cake, and it's not too badly blurred, so I will share that one.

 I had to aim my camera above the heads of the crowd and just shoot blindly.

Randi and Travis then danced their feet off.  I loved to watch happiness twirl around the dance floor.  Weddings are such great fun and happiness is catching.  As tired as we all were (the older folks), I don't think we tired of watching them enjoy their celebration.

Randi and Travis...Mr. & Mrs. Travis Thompson...go and embrace your life together.  Live close to the Lord, pray together, laugh together, love together and find joy in your beautiful union.  Thank you for sharing your celebration with the rest of us.

I will close this post with one more photo...one that I took with my own little Nikon Digital...of the beautiful super moon, over Mt. Timpanogas!