Saturday, October 31, 2020

Being vulnerable is a sign of strength

Being vulnerable is a sign of strength

Let me preface this by saying that the last 2.5 years, my mother has had a decline (mainly respiratory) in her health. She's had this chronic cough that when it gets bad, she sounds like she is drowning and can barely talk because of it. We were finally able to get her a green card and for the last 6 months, she has stayed in south Florida with my brothers. But they're men and many things get overlooked. Regardless, fast forward to now. I've been worried about her overall health and was trying to figure out how to get her health insurance so she could be followed regularly for her medical problems (mainly her poorly controlled hypertension). Oh life. Covid-19 happened. The world shut down. Work became more stressful.


My older brother than texted me as soon as I got off of work with "Mom's left hand is numb". I immediately called him and asked for more details. I'm pretty sure that's not what he meant because--between what my mom was describing to him and what he told me--I'm sure it wasn't just that. Turns out, her left hand (and likely arm) was weak; she couldn't grasp anything or hold her hand up. I told him that she is likely having a stroke and that she needed to go to the ER. I asked him to take her blood pressure to see what it was. It was 189/119. What. The. F**k. I calmly tell my brother to take her to the hospital to which he agrees and we hang up. I tell my closest friends to keep my mom in their prayers and go home worried because one of my fears was morphing into reality: having my mom hospitalized during this pandemic. It was bad enough that she spoke little English and then to not have any family members with her was even more difficult to imagine.


I get home. I shower. I try to eat dinner. I pray. Bargain with God. Pleading for this to not be real and that if God would let her live (yes, I went down the tunnel of worse case scenarios), I would produce a child within the next few years for my mom (she wants to be a grandmother again). About 2 hours later, I text my brother to see how things are because I know the ER will take forever. I get "We didn't take her to the hospital". I was livid and quite frankly so angry that I did not call and speak to him because I'd start yelling. Long story short I told him mom is having a stroke and if she dies, it's on him. He tells me the plan is to take her to a clinic in the morning to which I replied it's stupid. Her recheck BP was lower but still high and I told him to make sure she takes her BP meds. I call my mom and make sure she's ok. She downplays her symptoms like I know she would. I tell her I love her and then end the call. I go to sleep because I could not do anything else short of calling 911 and that would make things more stressful. I commiserate with my medical friends and family members and pray that God keeps her and try to go to sleep.


That night, I had nightmares and slept poorly. I went to work but more annoyed and stressed on top of everything else. I call my mom to make sure that the plan was to still go to the clinic. She was in good spirits and stated that she was about to go wake up my brother so they can go to the clinic. Rounds in the hospital go smoothly. Inside I'm freaking out but on the exterior, I'm cool as a cucumber. I wait until close to 11am to check in again.


"Good morning. Any updates"


"She has been admitted..."


Ok. So it's happening.  My mom is admitted and I was right. She had a stroke. There. The worse happened. I immediately called my brother and he told me that he took her to the ER and didn't bother taking her to the hospital. I had a mini-breakdown because my mom is in the hospital and there's nothing I can do to comfort her or be there. My mind was racing at 200mi/hr but my heart was stuck on "admitted to the hospital".


God has a funny way of working things out. Not funny but...expertly planned. As I was outside the building silently crying, I hear my name called out. I turn around to see one of my woman attendings who happened to not be at work with her dog in her car. We chat briefly and she notices my eyes. I tell her my mom's admitted to the hospital with a stroke. She asks what I need. I said I need to go see my mom. She says "grab your stuff; I can buy your tickets." I tell my ICU attending (who happened to be my PD) the situation and tell my co-workers "family emergency--I gotta go". We rush to my apartment, my attending buys my plane tickets AND books a rental car. Amazing. There are good people out there, people. I say this because--she didn't have to do any of it but she did. God looked out for me...through her and I'm forever grateful.


I won't bore you with the details but I flew in to S Florida late that night and spent the next few days making sure mom is ok, that my brothers understood what happened and what needs to be done once she is discharged home. All of her medical needs that needed to be addressed were addressed. Her CT scan (head) did not show a big stroke and the brain MRI revealed several small areas of stroke. She sounded better and better every day. She never required an ICU stay. Never intubated. Tested negative for COVID-19. Blood pressure controlled on oral medications. We were even able to apply for medical insurance for her.


I knew I wouldn't have been able to see her while she was admitted but I went to Florida anyway. In times like these, it was important to be around family. I was able to see some of my brothers and cousin. We talked, commiserated and loved on each other (I still wanted to strangle my older brothers though). I even got to see my cousins--it's been so long so we laughed so much.

In the end, she was discharged home after I left Florida. She had another stint in the hospital for pneumonia but she recovered then too. I was able to see my mom August 2020 and it was so nice. We disagreed on many things but it was good to see her happy and healthy.



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