Ambulance

Ambulance Sirens

by Marilyn Wilson

The Cherokee County Emergency Rescue Team was stopped for a mid-day snack when the 911 call came across the wires. Fortunately, they were right next door to the doctor’s office when I collapsed.

In a desperate attempt to understand where I was and why, I struggled to listen to the doctors in the emergency room telling my husband  the details.

“We don’t know how long she was unconscious. No way to know yet whether she has brain damage. She’ll be on the ventilator for a week or so and then strong meds.”

Unlike when I was a child and unaware of complications (See Just Breathe Blog), I was a grown woman quite aware of my symptoms and my allergies.

Rewind two hours:

I felt the tightening in my chest, I heard the wheezing in my breath, and after popping my usual pill and taking along puff on my inhaler, I headed to the doctor’s office recognizing the gripping attack coming on quickly.

Something went awry.

The medicine was not working and the closer I got to the doctor’s office, the less breath I was able to inhale or exhale.  By the time I arrived, I busted into the office and headed straight back to the rooms gasping for my next breath.

The last thing I remember was looking at myself in the mirror of the doctor’s exam room and asking him why I couldn’t breathe.  My reflection in the mirror was me all right, but with different clothes and a different hairstyle with my life going by quickly on a ticker-tape machine.

These were the floating thoughts as I heard the doctor saying to my husband that I had been unconscious for several minutes and there was no way of knowing if there had been brain damage.

As they explained to him that the ambulance had just happened to be next door and were able to begin resuscitation measures quickly so there was hope.  The problem was that when they ran the tube down my throat and I unconsciously began to get air, a natural panic response took over and I began to fight them.  It took 4 paramedics to hold me down while they administered a paralysis drug so they could work.  In order to avoid scaring me more when and if I continued to awake, they gave me a shot of morphine so I couldn’t care less what was going on.

All of these drugs were working at the same time as I began coming back from my dream place.  I could hear them, but I couldn’t convey that to them as I was completely paralyzed.  The doctor told my husband that I would be slowly coming out of it and I was struggling to tell them I was ok and that I would be all right.  But I couldn’t move a thing.  They began cutting off my clothes and placing me on a bed with a respirator.  I felt like I could blink my eye, but it didn’t seem to be apparent to anyone standing close by; so I left again for la-la land.

Finally, when I awoke, not only was my husband at my side; but I saw my mother’s fearful and caring eyes just as I had many times in the past.  When I saw them, I knew I would be ok and I would be back ready to play again very soon.

Fortunately, that did happen.  After a week on a respirator and my mother’s prayers and care, I began recuperating once again.

This time, however, I gained quite a huge respect for this chronic illness called asthma.  Even more, I began to understand what it takes to be a mother of a sick child and how wonderful it is to be the daughter of a mother who is there every time she is needed.

Thanks Mom!