1369
12-12-2007, 08:25 PM
My father has had a major stroke.
I got a call from my mom about 1400 today that something happened to Chief while he was working out at the Concord (gym). They couldn’t/wouldn’t say what happened other than that he was being transported by EMS and she wanted me to meet her at the hospital. They were at first going to take him to NE Baptist, where I first went, but after seeing his condition they rerouted and took him to Methodist.
I get to Methodist first and the doctor grabs me up and it’s time for “Let’s sit in this room with the door closed” bad kind of discussions. He tells that Chief has had a massive stroke, the entire right side of his body is paralyzed, his tongue does not function and he cannot speak. He is home upstairs, has been conscious the entire time, and understands and communicates by squeezing his left hand. He has a blood clot on the left side of his brain (Very bad) and it is centered in some area that controls motor functions (Very very bad).
I ask the doc to bottom line me on what were looking at and he says with the paralysis, a wheel chair, maybe therapy to learn to get some mobility out of his right arm, and if were lucky he can get his tongue to work so he can learn to swallow again and not have to be fed by a tube. Going to need a live in nurse to help take care of him, make the house wheelchair friendly, etcetera, etcetera.
So, then doc goes on to talk about an experimental drug they can give him that can work to thin the blood and open vessels in tightly targeted areas, but about 1-2 in 5 people blow their blood vessels and die from it.
Mom gets to the hospital, gets the same talk, and we decide to go ahead with the drug (If he’s even a candidate) as Chief would rather pay his nickel and take his chances than basically be an invalid.
By this time I really need to take a leak and head off to the bathroom, splash a little water on my face, shake myself and realize this is really happening and it’s time to saddle up and get my shit together for the long haul.
I get back to the room and the doc is on his cell and says Chief’s body flushed the clot and he has regained a little feeling in his arm and leg.
So, things are looking up.
I won’t bore you with the details of waiting for him to be wheeled upstairs from the MRI/CAT scanning floor, but when they wheeled him back into his ER room, he had his arms propped behind his head, his feet crossed, and wanted to know why I was there and not at work.
Oh yea, and where was the bathroom because he needed to pee.
The docs can’t explain it, they said that folks don’t recover like that from this sort of episode.
I can’t explain it either, but I know that he didn’t dodge a .22 but a 155mm howitzer.
Basically, he’s just like he was before he stroked. He now has to take some kind of blood thinner medication that he doesn’t want to, but after my mom got in his face and I did as well using certain words and phrases that he can understand, he decided that it would be in his best interest to take it.
They’re going to keep him at Methodist for a couple of days and run who knows how many tests, but he should be home soon.
My brain is still trying to wrap itself around what exactly what went on today.
I think I’ll have a cold beer, and raise a glass to whomever or whatever was watching over Chief today.
I got a call from my mom about 1400 today that something happened to Chief while he was working out at the Concord (gym). They couldn’t/wouldn’t say what happened other than that he was being transported by EMS and she wanted me to meet her at the hospital. They were at first going to take him to NE Baptist, where I first went, but after seeing his condition they rerouted and took him to Methodist.
I get to Methodist first and the doctor grabs me up and it’s time for “Let’s sit in this room with the door closed” bad kind of discussions. He tells that Chief has had a massive stroke, the entire right side of his body is paralyzed, his tongue does not function and he cannot speak. He is home upstairs, has been conscious the entire time, and understands and communicates by squeezing his left hand. He has a blood clot on the left side of his brain (Very bad) and it is centered in some area that controls motor functions (Very very bad).
I ask the doc to bottom line me on what were looking at and he says with the paralysis, a wheel chair, maybe therapy to learn to get some mobility out of his right arm, and if were lucky he can get his tongue to work so he can learn to swallow again and not have to be fed by a tube. Going to need a live in nurse to help take care of him, make the house wheelchair friendly, etcetera, etcetera.
So, then doc goes on to talk about an experimental drug they can give him that can work to thin the blood and open vessels in tightly targeted areas, but about 1-2 in 5 people blow their blood vessels and die from it.
Mom gets to the hospital, gets the same talk, and we decide to go ahead with the drug (If he’s even a candidate) as Chief would rather pay his nickel and take his chances than basically be an invalid.
By this time I really need to take a leak and head off to the bathroom, splash a little water on my face, shake myself and realize this is really happening and it’s time to saddle up and get my shit together for the long haul.
I get back to the room and the doc is on his cell and says Chief’s body flushed the clot and he has regained a little feeling in his arm and leg.
So, things are looking up.
I won’t bore you with the details of waiting for him to be wheeled upstairs from the MRI/CAT scanning floor, but when they wheeled him back into his ER room, he had his arms propped behind his head, his feet crossed, and wanted to know why I was there and not at work.
Oh yea, and where was the bathroom because he needed to pee.
The docs can’t explain it, they said that folks don’t recover like that from this sort of episode.
I can’t explain it either, but I know that he didn’t dodge a .22 but a 155mm howitzer.
Basically, he’s just like he was before he stroked. He now has to take some kind of blood thinner medication that he doesn’t want to, but after my mom got in his face and I did as well using certain words and phrases that he can understand, he decided that it would be in his best interest to take it.
They’re going to keep him at Methodist for a couple of days and run who knows how many tests, but he should be home soon.
My brain is still trying to wrap itself around what exactly what went on today.
I think I’ll have a cold beer, and raise a glass to whomever or whatever was watching over Chief today.