heart thoughts

Working as Vampira, The Night Shift Nurse, I am used to 3 o’clock in the morning phone calls because there’s always a mommy of one of my tiny human patients at any given shift calling because she woke up and thought of her baby. They are usually pumping the liquid gold that is mommy milk and naturally their thoughts are on their tiny baby wondering how he is doing…did she gain weight…did he have yet another episode where he stopped breathing or dropped his heart rate to delay (again) his discharge that was anticipated the day after tomorrow…is she crying… So around 3 AM Tuesday morning as I’m taking mental inventory of what I need to do before my last rounds with my patients when the phone rings I am not surprised. It’s probably baby boy’s mama calling to see if he gained weight.

Room 1. This is Laura. Can I help you?

Mom?!

Abby?…??!!??

Dad had a heart attack. We’re at Doctors in Manteca. It’s bad.

What?!

His nurse needs to talk to you.

And Patrick comes on the line calmly explaining that my darling husband has suffered a STEMI and needs a stat cardiac catheterization. Unfortunately, the hospital where he is at is not set up to do the procedure so he is going to be transported by ambulance to my hospital, its sister hospital. He carefully explains what has been done and given to Bill so far, how Abby is and that he, Patrick, will be accompanying Bill to Modesto. He adds that because we are “family” within our hospital system, he is going to be calling me during the transport to update their arrival time.

OMFG!!!!

Patrick gives me his cell number telling me that is the number he will be calling my cell so I’ll know it’s him…because who else is going to call my phone around 3 AM?…looking at my silenced phone I see that Abby tried to call me…Oh. Yeah….Patrick tells me he will call as they leave Manteca and again as they approach my hospital so that I can meet them in the ER.

OMFG!!!

Inside I am freaking out…majorly freaking out saying “fuck” often. Outside I tell my charge nurse what is going on. I’m too calm. At least I think that I am too calm.

She immediately calls our resource nurse to take over my patients’ care and directs me to update her on what needs to be done for the next few hours. I give the handoff to our resource and accept the hugs and promises of prayer from co-workers and the family of one of my patients as I blankly wander to our nurses’ lounge to wait for Patrick to call me.

I’m too calm, I think again. My husband just had a heart attack and needs an emergency cath procedure. Why am I not freaking out? Why am I not crying? My phone rings. It’s Patrick. They’re on their way he tells me. He adds that Abby is following in her car. And so I wait while my mind races…and wonders why am I not crying, screaming, throwing something…my husband has had a heart attack and is coming by ambulance to my hospital.

Patrick soon calls again telling me that they are getting off the freeway so I hug coworkers once more and head to the ER. There the STEMI Alert team is waiting and ready…nurses, doctor, phlebo, x-ray tech…

This is serious.

Before I can think to ask a thoughtful question, the ambulance arrives with Bill and Patrick. Bill is pale, much too pale but joking with me as he does, as we do.

Freak, freak, fucking freaking out inside I am again.

I’m calm as Patrick explains what meds Bill has had so far…aspirin, morphine, heparin. He tells me he went over consents with Abby and she has signed them so he’s good to go to the cath lab. Numbly, I thank Patrick for everything so far as he says goodbye while I watch Bill receive a new IV, have labs drawn, get a chest x-ray and have his pants removed all in the matter of a few minutes.

Mrs. Scarborough? We’re heading upstairs now.

Holding Bill’s hand, my mind moves from “OMFG! This is for real” to “He’s seriously high right now” as we head up to the cath lab. As they push the bed with my husband through the double doors, they direct me to sit and wait.

So, I can cry now?…

A text from Abby pops up on my phone. She’s here. I tell her where to go so that we can meet. What she tells me is so hard to believe to be real. Bill woke her up after 2 AM telling her that he needed her to drive him to the hospital.

Why, she asked?

His arm hurts and he needs to go now. Bill’s arm and shoulder has been bugging him for a few days. He blames it on overdoing it at Krav Maga, as does the family doctor who prescribed rest and a muscle relaxer. Abby tells me that he was a bit breathless and coughing a lot…as he has been because allergies and the cold Bill believes he caught from Daniel (who has not had a cold). Abby gets him to the ER close to home where they begin to triage and take his vitals…

It all changed when he was placed on a monitor. The nurse abruptly leaves the room calling a doctor in. Soon a party gathered in his room, Abby tells me. A doctor tells her that her dad is having a serious heart attack and need to be sent to another hospital.

My mom is at work at Doctors in Modesto. She will want him there.

You know the rest.

Can I just say here how impressed I am with my Abigael Rose? I am! She remained calm through all of this. I imagine that she was freaking out inside with a steam of OMFG and fuck, fuck, fuck happening because she is her mother’s daughter. Still she remained calm and even advocating for her dad and mom when they first planned to transport him to a hospital in Stockton rather than where I work, where the Central Valley cardiology rock stars are. I am so proud and so impressed with this child of mine.

The cardiologist soon comes out and tells us that his right coronary artery was 100% blocked but she was able to open it up with the cath procedure. She adds that his heart went into v-tach and he had to be shocked three times before his heart converted to a normal rhythm.

yeah…inner major freakout happened.

As the sun rises, Abby and I meet Bill in the ICU. He is on several drip medications with a venous and arterial line in his groin along with an IV. He’s pale…so pale…and he’s trying to tell jokes.

Stop!

I hold his hand as I remind myself that this is his turn for the in  sickness and health part of our vows. Yeah I am mad because he never seemed to listen to me about my worries so here we are but here we are, together in sickness and in health.

Dammit!

The family starts to call as they wake to receive my texts to call me because it’s an emergency. I want to cry and scream and curse and sleep because now I am tired, so tired, but I can’t because our daughters are calling, his sisters…

Sleep is for the weak…and people who had a heart attack…the most severe type of heart attack…and for people who needed to be shocked several times after cardiac arrest. I’m not sleeping now.

The family comes. The friends check in. Bill is awake then asleep then awake then asleep and all the while looking so pale. Everyone who sees him cries a little or a lot. I don’t.

Clearly I am defective.

I know I did way too much in sickness and in health events having babies and preterm labor and anaphylaxis episodes and meningococcal meningitis but, dammit, this is too much. His heart. I told him. I did. I nagged and I begged.

As the day progresses, he slowly stabilizes.

Thank god!

We settle into what is right now our normal and perhaps the most awkward, surreal date night ever.

As a wild, wild party seems to be commencing under The Big Top.

What can I say?

You cope your way.

And this circus will cope ours.

The good news is that by Wednesday night, Bill is much improved. no chest pains, rare arrythmias, femoral lines and drip medications discontinued and, after more than 36 hours for the first time he is sitting up in bed.

So. Damn. Lucky.

The adventure continues…

running on empty

Picking up Daniel from school yesterday afternoon, he leans over and notices the gas gauge.

Looks like you need gas, Mom. Are you going to get gas now?

No. I’m going to take you home where we will work on your homework. Then I will make dinner while you get ready for Tae Kwon Do.

Then you’ll go get gas? You need to get gas.

I think I’m okay. I’ll probably get gas after I drop you off at school tomorrow morning.

Are you sure?

I’m sure son. Don’t worry.

But he is worried.

This morning as he gets into the car, he leans over and notices the gas gauge.

Mom, you really need to get gas. Are you going to get gas now?

For the record the “low fuel” idiot light hasn’t even turned on yet. According to the car’s computer, I have approximately 75 miles to empty.

After I take you to school, son. It’s okay.

Are you sure?

Yes. Absolutely.

Looking at his face, I can tell that he is not convinced. We arrive at the school and as he gives me a quick kiss goodbye I see him glance at the dashboard again.

Goodbye, Mom. I love you. Don’t forget to get gas, okay?

Love you too, son. Don’t worry.

And with one last glance as he crosses the street, I can tell he is worried…very worried.

No one tell him that I “gambled” and went to Safeway, then Costco, then home BEFORE I drove to Tracy to fill up the mom car because with Safeway Gas Rewards I filled up at $1.51/gallon.

I wonder if he ever does the same thing to his Dad or his sisters.

Picking him up this afternoon I caught him glancing at the gas gauge indicating a FULL TANK as he kissed me hello.

Oh dear…

For the record, I have yet to run out of gas in the the last 34 years of owning and driving a car. Add that to the “Laura’s Successes” list…right under caring and feeding of her five children.

I’m doing okay, son. Promise.

 

 

be warned

When you are out and about anywhere in the Central Valley and you happen to see this beautiful child,

DON’T...I repeat, DO NOT call her a boy. She is going to throw some serious shade your way and will call you out.

But I’m a girl, Mom!, she loudly proclaims as you pass by.

BURN!

Seriously people! A ruffled blouse, jeggings, pink loafers with glitter?!

Oh well! Random strangers can say the stupidest things, I guess.

I’m sorry, Fallon. For what it’s worth, your mommy and aunties often were mistaken for adorable boys too…even when they were three years old and sometimes wearing the most feminine of dresses.. Except for Abby. For some reason, your Auntie Abby was rarely mistaken as a little boy. Abby had curly eyelashes and everyone knows little girls have curly eyelashes. Then again, Daniel has curly eyelashes too…and people often commented that he was a beautiful baby girl. Yeah, random strangers make stupid observations sometimes.

You keep giving them the side eye, fancy girl.

 

 

date night at the museum

Wear something with sparkles, he asks. So I did; because he asked me and it’s date night.

Anything for him because it is date night!

Date Night at the Museum!

It was a perfect date night too. We held hands. Shared pretzels and cheese because popcorn is a no with braces. There was much laughter and whispered conversation about ancient Egyptian burial practice, helping to scatter his great grandmother’s ashes at a place she loved, Christianity, Judaism, Hanukkah, Jesus and Pompeii. We also talked about the fact that this was Robin Williams‘ last onscreen feature film performance and I mentioned that it was also Mickey Rooney’s too. Yes, he asked, Who? I’ll try to rectify that. The best part, besides the sweet good night kiss? My date insisted that we sit through and watch the credits because I love to do that. A first because he usually wants to leave as soon as the story fades to black and in the past has been quite vocal about being forced to sit as the closing credits roll.

It would seem that my date is growing up.

From my date and me, two thumbs up. It’s a fun finale to the Night At The Museum series with a lot of laughs, a little bit of history and definitely some poignant moments.

As for our date night, I can’t wait for the next time. Watching the previews before the movie, we have a list prepared.