Wow. What an insanely long, exhausting day yesterday was.
Mother called when I was in the last stages of my "I do not want to go to work today!" sleep. You know that sleep state where you've woken up four different times to look at the clock and then roll over mumbling something along the lines of "I"m not going."? Anyway... the news wasn't good. In fact, it was bad. She called to let me know that "they" were life-flighting one of my oldest friends to one of the hospitals here in the City. The small town hospital's diagnosis was a tear in the aorta. They didn't expect him to survive the 45 minute flight.
I tore around the house in a state of panic, with eyes blurred by tears, trying to get to the hospital before he did 'cause his daughter would be the only one there that early. The rest of the family was coming in from 2 hours away in three different directions. Oh.. the reason I was panicked... the doctors were giving him a 2% chance of living. If he survived the flight.
Survive he did. I was able to meet the helo on the pad. Paramedics tried to shoo me away but I informed them that I would NOT be moving until he was inside the hospital. 'cause that's how I roll. Got inside, hugged his daughter who was standing there alone looking not quite stoic. Stoic is my job. That's why they send me to the hospital. I'm able to be just compassionate enough while still being a rock to lean on. That and I can text like the wind itself. Which comes in handy for keeping everyone else informed without being too much of an interruption to the family.
When his wife got there, the surgeon informed us that her husband "Has a terrible problem. If he survives the next hour, we'll put him in surgery to repair the tear in his aorta. If he survives the surgery, he'll have a 30% chance of surviving another week. If he survives that week, his chances go up." Dude was an ass. But... he's also one of the best at open heart surgery in the state. Seems those things go hand in hand. Any case, the Doc said it'd be a miracle if he survived the surgery.
10 hours later, he was still alive. They'd had to put in a surgical mesh to replace the majority of the tissue in the aorta. Except for the part they couldn't reach. He was under sedation (of course) and in an induced hypothermic state for the entire period. The doctors said that we won't know if he's ok until he wakes up. Which they're not in a hurry to accelerate. They want him to stay out as long as possible so he doesn't tear the mesh loose. He was cold for so long, they're not sure if his brain will recover. If he does wake up, there are still a million complications, including stroke, cardiac arrest and loss of limbs.
The outlook is still pretty bleak, but we're all hoping for the best. His family is by his side, even though he doesn't know it.
Pray if you pray. If not, please think good thoughts.
Mother called when I was in the last stages of my "I do not want to go to work today!" sleep. You know that sleep state where you've woken up four different times to look at the clock and then roll over mumbling something along the lines of "I"m not going."? Anyway... the news wasn't good. In fact, it was bad. She called to let me know that "they" were life-flighting one of my oldest friends to one of the hospitals here in the City. The small town hospital's diagnosis was a tear in the aorta. They didn't expect him to survive the 45 minute flight.
I tore around the house in a state of panic, with eyes blurred by tears, trying to get to the hospital before he did 'cause his daughter would be the only one there that early. The rest of the family was coming in from 2 hours away in three different directions. Oh.. the reason I was panicked... the doctors were giving him a 2% chance of living. If he survived the flight.
Survive he did. I was able to meet the helo on the pad. Paramedics tried to shoo me away but I informed them that I would NOT be moving until he was inside the hospital. 'cause that's how I roll. Got inside, hugged his daughter who was standing there alone looking not quite stoic. Stoic is my job. That's why they send me to the hospital. I'm able to be just compassionate enough while still being a rock to lean on. That and I can text like the wind itself. Which comes in handy for keeping everyone else informed without being too much of an interruption to the family.
When his wife got there, the surgeon informed us that her husband "Has a terrible problem. If he survives the next hour, we'll put him in surgery to repair the tear in his aorta. If he survives the surgery, he'll have a 30% chance of surviving another week. If he survives that week, his chances go up." Dude was an ass. But... he's also one of the best at open heart surgery in the state. Seems those things go hand in hand. Any case, the Doc said it'd be a miracle if he survived the surgery.
10 hours later, he was still alive. They'd had to put in a surgical mesh to replace the majority of the tissue in the aorta. Except for the part they couldn't reach. He was under sedation (of course) and in an induced hypothermic state for the entire period. The doctors said that we won't know if he's ok until he wakes up. Which they're not in a hurry to accelerate. They want him to stay out as long as possible so he doesn't tear the mesh loose. He was cold for so long, they're not sure if his brain will recover. If he does wake up, there are still a million complications, including stroke, cardiac arrest and loss of limbs.
The outlook is still pretty bleak, but we're all hoping for the best. His family is by his side, even though he doesn't know it.
Pray if you pray. If not, please think good thoughts.