My mother ended up in the ER Thanksgiving eve. She’s home now, after a 6-day stint in the hospital. This past week has been a horrendous roller coaster of emotion.
My brother, David, was the one who found her. He lives on Cape Cod, and my mom lives in Maine. (She’s 25 minutes from me; I’m in NH.) He wasn’t due to her house until later that evening, but at the last second he decided to swing by for a quick hello before shopping at the outlet mall.
David saw her feet sticking out from behind the kitchen counter. She was unresponsive but breathing.
While his son called 911, my brother called me. I answered, expecting him to ask if I could bring more beer or tequila. When my family gets together, it is never too early to drink.
“Kate. Mom’s on the floor, unresponsive, and foaming at the mouth.”
I burst out laughing.
“Listen! She’s not moving. Her eyes are fixed to the right, staring at me…”
I continued to laugh. “Well, Thanksgiving does take its toll.”
“Kate! I’m serious! Tom’s calling 911 right now.”
He rewound the scene again. This isn’t one of my brightest moments, I admit. It was the mention of her foaming at the mouth that did it.
Finally, I got it together. “Okay. When the EMTs show up, have them take her to York hospital, not Portsmouth. She hates Portsmouth. I’ll meet you there.”
Five minutes later, David called me back. “They’re taking her to Portsmouth. They have a better neuro facility. By the way, I can’t find Sarah.”
Sarah’s our sister, who lives down the road from Mom. She doesn’t have a landline, just a cell. I told him to stop by Sarah’s house in case she’d turned off her phone.
When I got to the hospital, a nurse ushered me right in. I asked the desk nurse to let my family know I was inside, and then I disappeared down the corridor. They had her listed as Jane Doe, so I had to give them her name, dob, history, the whole 9 yards.
They invited me into the room where the ER docs were struggling to intubate her. I tell you, it was a scene straight out of Grey’s Anatomy. I was familiar with the terminology, procedure, and equipment. If it weren’t my mother, I would’ve found the entire experience fascinating.
Before long, I picked up on the fact they couldn’t get the breathing tube in. She was too ‘anterior’ and tight.
Next thing I knew, sauntering down the corridor in their blue scrubs, were two surgeons. No one told me they were surgeons. I just knew it from the way they walked and held themselves. Grey’s Anatomy, I’m telling you. It’s educational.
They went right up to my mom, took over the apparatus and tried to get that damn tube down her throat.
Then she woke up.
She kicked and thrashed and they had to hold her down while they got that thing down her gullet.
Unfortunately, this is not the surgeon who intubated my mom.
Finally, they succeeded, but not without leaving a bloody trail in their wake. The ER doc let out a nervous chuckle and said, “Good to see you guys had a tough time, too. Now I feel better.”
One of the surgeons said drily, “Glad you feel better.”
The surgeons sauntered out of the room the same way they sauntered in, never to be seen again.
I was then summoned for various tasks having to do with Medicare and her belongings while they took her for a CAT scan. When they returned with her, she was awake and trying to talk around the tube.
They beckoned me over to her. I showed up at her shoulder, and my mom took one look at me and smiled.
I talked a bit, telling her where she was. I asked her if she knew what had happened to her, why she was in the ER.
She nodded.
* * * * * * * *
I’ll stop here. I’ll continue over the next few blog posts, as there is a lot of story here.
I know I don’t usually share a personal tale here on the blog, but this event has become a central focus in my life for the past week.
I try to count my blessings every day, from small things like dessert to big things like my kids’ health. This particular event, like all events, runs the gamut from small blessings (having enough gas in the car to get straight to the hospital) to big blessings (my brother finding my mother early enough to help her).
Have you counted your blessings today?
What a horrible experience, I really hope she’s doing okay now.
Thanks, Victoria. It’s been a struggle, but I’m hoping we’re on the better side of things now.
Oh my goodness, I had no idea you’d been going through all this over the last week! Love and strength to you all.
Hi Vanessa, thanks for your kind wishes. It’s been a tough week, but things are looking up.
(((((Hugs))))) xx
Thanks, Vikki.
How scary for all involved!! You, mom, and family are in my thoughts. Hoping it all comes out well.
On an aside: your comment about the beer and tequila made me chuckle. Sounds a lot like my family.
Hi kathils, thank you for your kind wishes. Haha, I had debated to include that piece of inside info
, but as I wanted to keep this post from being too morose, I kept it in. Glad to know your family likes their cocktails, too. 
Heavens above, what an experience. I hope things worked out ok.
Thank you. It was a very tough week, but I’m feeling more confident that she’s improving each day.
Oh, Kate, I can empathize—our mothers are about the same age. Two years ago, mine ended up in the hospital just before our family Christmas and was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. It was touch-and-go, but she rallied.
These are the situations that make us stop and take stock of our lives and, yes, count our blessings. Normally it’s so easy to take them for granted or to complain about minor inconveniences.
I could not have been so calm in the emergency room, though! I have a hard time watching medical procedures on television. To watch them in real life on someone I love? I would be a basket case. You are one strong cosmic sister!
Sending you and your family positives thoughts, and may you all spend your Christmas where you should be.
Hey JM, I remember that you’d said that about your mom. My mom has CHF also, although we’re not sure what precipitated this event. I hate that sometimes we don’t realize how lucky we are until we come so close to losing someone precious.
If I sounded like I was calm in the ER, I definitely wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t screaming at them to stop shoving that thing down her throat, but I don’t think I moved a muscle the entire time. On a normal day I would not pick myself as a candidate for sitting through a procedure like that, but I think we’re more capable than we realize.
Thanks for your kind wishes. I’m definitely setting my sights on a nice, relaxing Christmas with family.
How frightening. :/ Sending some prayers your way. Family is so special <3 I hope your mom is making a speedy recovery.
Thanks, Connie–I will take all the prayers I can get.
Kate, I’m so sorry about this, though you do give a great account of it. I hoping she is fully recovered soon.
Thanks, Kate. Each day is a step closer to recovery, right? You in AZ, yet?
Absolutely. No, not yet, I had some medical issues but will be soon.
Sorry to hear that. Sending you wishes for a safe journey!
Kate, I’m so sorry to hear about your mom. That must have been very scary for your whole family. I hope she is doing better now and back at home resting.
I’m also sorry that Patrick Dempsey was not your rescuer. Yum.
Yes, I count my blessings as often as possible.
Hi Anne, thank you. She is home, although resting is not a word I can easily apply to my mom.
She’s a fighter, in more than one way.
Yeah, Patrick would have really made things much more manageable. Oh well.
Aww, Kate. My thoughts are with you and your mom right now. Thanks for sharing your personal story, reminding us all to count our blessings each day and forever appreciate those we love so dearly.
Thank you, Britt. Absolutely, remember to be grateful for everyone and everything in your life. I hope you had a lovely holiday weekend.
what a trauma! it does rather make Thanksgiving a very poignant celebration. Will keep a look out for your posts Kate and send best wishes to you and your family
Thank you, Laura. A tough week that is turning in a happier direction.
Kate – I hope your mother recovers quickly. When I worked on an ambulance, I hated working the holidays. Not only because it kept me away from my family, but because of the extra stress medical emergencies cause the families involved. The anesthesiologists have even more experience placing tubes than the ER Docs.
Hi Dennis. I can imagine how awful that must have been to work on an ambulance during the holidays.
I felt bad for the ER doc, because the pressure was on, and everyone was watching. He was sweating bullets. While I’m grateful for the surgeons, must they be so cocky? Oh well, I guess I’ll take a cocky surgeon over an inept surgeon any day of the week.
Absolutely. The attitude comes with the to job title.
Righto!
As you mentioned her being home now, I’m guessing she’s okay and am glad for that. Sorry you and she have had such a rough go. *hugs* and of course best wishes.
She is okay in some ways, other ways are still questionable. I could have told all in this post, but you’d still be reading…! Thanks for your kind words, Julie.
Kate I’m glad that she’s home, and so very sorry for her ordeal. It is such a scare when something happens to our parents, I know firsthand. Thanks to the Lord for taking care of her!
Hi Neeks, I hope that whatever you experienced with your parents turned out okay. It is really scary; I don’t like seeing them in trouble or ill or sad. I hope you had a nice holiday weekend.
After reading this piece, I am most definitely counting my blessings. So sorry you and your family had to experience this! But as you say, good thing your brother found her when he did. I can’t imagine how difficult finding her like that was or for you having to watch her undergo the hospital procedures and tests. Glad to hear she’s home now.
Hi Carrie,
Thanks goodness for my brother and his change of plans. I think about how often she’s alone though, and how this could easily have happened on a Friday night…that wouldn’t have turned out as positively. We’re glad she’s home, too–now it’s just a matter of making some lifestyle changes… :/ I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.
Thank you. I did.
Oh Kate, what a terrible experience. So sorry! Sending good thoughts. ~Hugs.
Thanks, Coleen. I appreciate your kind wishes.
Not a great start to thanksgiving hope she is doing better now
Thank you, Paula. We’re getting there, slowly but surely.
You have all my good wishes for your mother’s quick recovery with no lasting effects! This certainly awakens memories, of the day I came home from work and the door was locked. My mother always unlocked the door for me. I let myself in and found her on the floor. I knew right away she’d had a stroke since she had no feeling in her left side. Fortunately, my mother is right handed, so her speech wasn’t affected. She said she tried to get up because she wanted to be sitting in the chair when I got home, but she couldn’t. She had put supper in the oven and it was cooking. Fortunately this had happened only half an hour earlier. She said the stroke was like having your TV screen suddenly tear and go all crazy. My uncle always called about that time of the day, and nobody had answered, so I had to call him as fast as possible to let him know and then I called 911. Off she goes in the ambulance, with the paramedics, and off I go in the car to spend the evening at the hospital (the first of many). That night back at home alone (my mother and I lived together my whole life), I lay in bed and thought, “Nothing will ever be the same again.” And I was right. That was when I quit writing; I didn’t write a word for the next 17 years.
So I can really relate to how this feels for you.
Oh wow, that is a frightening story. Your tale is a prime example of how easily things like this can happen, like a snap of the fingers, and there is really no foolproof way to protect anyone. That’s what can be so maddening. We can only do our very best to ensure someone’s safety and leave the rest up to the universe or God or whatever powers we might believe in.
I’m sorry that you didn’t write for 17 years–you obviously went through a traumatic period of time. However, I’m glad that you’re writing now and finding that spot of joy again.
Thanks for commenting.
Yes, my advice to people is, take your blood pressure medicine if you need it! My mother was able to re-learn to walk somewhat, although she was mostly confined to a wheelchair for the last 14 years of her life. It’s pretty hard to find time for writing when you’re working full time and taking of somebody, plus a few other problems that came up over those years. Thanks for being so sympathetic (as I sympathize with you)! Yes, once I got back to writing, I really enjoyed it. Now that I’m publishing, I wish for only one thing – please buy my books!
Yikes, 14 years in a wheelchair! That’s a lot of work, for both the patient and the caregiver. God bless you. She was a very lucky lady to have you around, and for you to give up so much for her. But, I’m sure she’s happy that you’re back to doing what you love. Good luck with your writing.
Sending lots of hugs and good hopes for the future – it must have been absolutely awful for you. I hope your mum is feeling better soon.
Thanks, Loony. I got the book in the mail during all of this, by the way. I have it on my desk. I probably won’t get to it as soon as I’d anticipated, but I wanted you to know that it arrived safely. Thank you!
You’re more than welcome, I hope you like the book. I read about what happened with your mum and felt awful for you – it must have been like being in a nightmare – hope she gets better soon for you. Big warm hugs sent across the sky to you.
I’m sure I will like it. And I’m happy to give it a review, meant to mention that earlier.
Nightmare is a pretty good way to describe the experience. But I hope we have turned a corner. 
So scary. I hope things are better now. Thank you for sharing your experience.
Hi Em, thanks for your kind words. It’s definitely been an eye-opener.
So sorry to hear, Kate! I like your personal stories, even the tough ones…hoping you all feel better.
Thanks Amy. It’s going to be a challenge as we make some lifestyle changes, but we’re looking at it positively.
What a terrifying thing to happen…though your mom is certainly lucky events came together in her favor, from your brother’s early visit, to those 2 passing surgeons. My prayers are with you and your family, Kate.
Hi Mayumi, thank you for your prayers, I need ‘em!
Wow, that’s seriously scary. And on Thanksgiving, too. So glad she is in recovery, and thinking of you and your family as you care for her.
Hi Alarna,
Yes, even though a hospital isn’t the ideal setting for Thanksgiving, I also know that the only reason someone found her so quickly was because family was visiting for the holiday. I shudder to think if she had collapsed on a random Friday afternoon, with no visitors expected.
Thanks for your kind thoughts.
Sending best wishes for a speedy recovery.
(and I would have laughed too).
Hi Shannon, thank you. And you know what? I have no doubt that you would have laughed–we have a similar sense of humor.
Whether I do it consciously or not, every morning I wake up, I count my blessings. It is good to be alive, to be able to get up, eat, and work on my blog as well as read posts from wonderful people like you.
I am so happy your mother is better. Since she is, I am looking forward to reading your tale.
Scott
Hi Scott,
That’s great that you’re an avid blessings-counter.
I think it is so easy to take life and all its goodness for granted, and it’s a shame when a traumatic event spurs us into remembering how lucky we are every day.
Thanks for your kind words. Kate
You are so very welcome.
How is she doing now?
She’s home. She’s a fighter. In more ways than one.
I will be sharing the rest of the tale in a follow-up post. Thanks for checking in, Kim.
What a nightmare, Kate! You’re so lucky your brother found her! And don’t worry about the laughing – that’s something I would have done as well because my family are such practical jokers. I really hope she makes a speedy recovery…
Hi Dianne,
Yes, that’s my family too. A nest of practical jokers. So, thanks for your support
She is on the mend, and each day is a step forward. Thanks for your kind wishes.
Wow. Things happen in such a crazy way. It’s great that your brother decided to drop by.
I can sort of relate to this sort of experience as we went through some craziness last November with my mother. She was suddenly unable to walk.
I hope your mother is doing much better. Even if Thanksgiving dinner didn’t happen as planned, I hope you guys postponed it. Y’all deserve a nice dinner together.
It’s scary to come upon someone in dire straits like that, isn’t it. I hope your mother is okay now?
Thanksgiving went on per usual, although we will do a second dinner together when things settle down and mellow out a bit. Thanks for your kind thoughts.
sorry about the akismetuser thing…I’m still learning wordpress, etc. The above post is from Jagoda.
It’s fine! I was in similar shoes about a year ago, so I know how overwhelming this blogging thing can be. Feel free to ask any questions if you get stuck.
Oh my gosh Kate, I’m so sorry to hear this. I hope your mum is feeling better **hugs* xxx
Thanks, Beth!
I’m glad she’s doing better now! I know how scary something like that can be. But any time anyone says “foaming at the mouth” that would make me laugh too. I hope you and your mom will have a much better Christmas!
I’m so glad there are other people out there who would have laughed at that. Makes me feel much better! Thanks, Sheila.
At least you took the call with a sense of humor (in a twisted sense). Glad she’s okay now. It is always unfortunate how unexpected these things are. Reminds of when Tommy Cooper died on stage. He must have had quite a talent to keep the audience laughing even as he died before their eyes.
Looking forward to hearing the rest of this story! Otherwise I hope you had a wonderful thanksgiving. I also just now noticed the snowflakes on your page. What a nice touch!
Thanks Fredrik. My brothers are constantly joking about something. So, I’m usually on my toes whenever I’m talking to them. Oh well, at least I figured it out eventually, right?
You can add snowflakes to your site too — it’s a setting you can find in your dashboard.
K, I’m so sorry to hear this. There’s nothing scarier than a trip to the hospital. I used to work there and they scared me, too. Hope you’re mom is doing better and things get back to normal soon. Hugs.
Thanks, Nancy. Hospitals are only fun when you’re having a baby — well, maybe that’s pushing it. Oops. Forgive the terrible pun.
LOLOL!
Pingback: 4am’s Thanksgiving – Part II « 4amWriter
I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I would have reacted similarly to a call like that. I think it would feel like it had to be a hoax because the reality is so scary. I am so glad you were able to be there for your mom.
Hi Kourtney, I know — ‘foaming at the mouth’ made me think rabies or going insane at the thought of cooking a huge Thanksgiving dinner. I cannot be faulted here, right?
Pingback: 4am’s Thanksgiving – Part III « 4amWriter
Pingback: My Mom, the Patient | 4amWriter