Perspective

Things are hard for me right now.  I have to fight the suicidal stuff or I will be back inpatient.  I have to pray that the med changes today fix things.  And I have to feel weird about sharing even more raw pain with Dr. Brain, and I have to work on carefully analyzing my suicidal thinking this week with Dr. Mind.

But.....today is a day that I won't ever forget.  Six years ago today I was at my mom's for our usual weekend take turns buying dinner out thing we did back then. I don't know what time it was.  I believe it was early evening and we were home from dinner as I remember waiting there for a long time to be sure I didn't need to stay to watch the dogs.  At that time I was working with patients with psychiatric illness, violent dementias and traumatic brain injuries.

The phone rang and it was my aunt.  My aunt and my mom are very close, partially because they had 5 daughters in 3.5 years.  We girls grew up close and their home was a truly safe place no matter how bad things got.  My aunt was very accessible; my uncle was not, yet he was the one who made it ok to have fun.  Never been on a rollercoaster?  Get it line.  In my family we'd never have been at the amusement park to begin with. Later, when my mom had left my father and we were facing the first year of Christmas in 2 places and my mom couldn't afford much my aunt made sure we had Christmas.  So they are special in my heart.

My aunt and mother always talk on the phone on Sunday mornings.  So when my aunt called that evening we knew something was wrong from caller ID.  We had no idea how bad.  My aunt and uncle and just recently gotten their kids through grad school and into home ownership.  They were true empty nesters and one of hte things my uncle had taken up was motorcycles.  He had taken courses, had a bike that was considered safe and the best helmet on the market.  My aunt had not wanted him to do this but he really did want to.  That afternoon he had gone to a state park to ride.  My aunt has just thought about how he would be home soon and would like coffee so she started the pot.  Minutes later the doorbell rang.  She told my mom that when she heard that noise she knew it was my uncle.  There was indeed a cop at the door and all she could do was say "is he dead?".  

He was not dead. He was in critical condition and had been lifeflighted to a trauma center.  Sadly it was not even close the level of trauma center he needed; we'll get there.  My mom kept writing on the cover of her checkbook as she talked to my aunt, who really knew little and was waiting for my cousins to get there to head to he hospital, about an hour off.

My aunt got to the hospital where he was in ICU.  He was on a ventilator and I suppose comatose although that word didn't pop up too much.  The nurse did the cruelest thing possible and told my aunt (who is a nurse herself but obviosuly personally involved here) that he would be fine.  That hospital believe his only injuries were to his brain, yet even then it took days to get an MRI because it couldn't be done without transporting him somewhere and there was a lot of intubating and extubating going on.  Maybe a week into it he woke up and started talking, much to everyone's relief. About this point my aunt realized that he was not moving and that the care he was getting was not comprehensive.  Overnight she arranged a lifeflight to a better hospital.  From there he was transferred again to where his insurance was accepted.

Upon arrival there he was actually assessed.  He had a broken jaw, some very slight difficulty with a few things from his brain injury, and a spinal cord injury.  Hope was extended with this, but being intubated and extubated repeatedly at the first hospital undoubtedly made the injury worse.  I remember my mom telling me how awful it was to sit and visit and see no movement even though my aunt was in denial and found every reflexive twitch hopeful.

Around then we heard the story of what had happened and the miracle he was alive.  Apparently a nurse and paramedic were driving in the park, saw his overturned motorcycle and stopped to see what was going on.  They found him nonresponsive and not breathing and had to decide whether to start CPR.  Healthcare CPR training (and probably regular but I haven't had that kind in years) doesn't let you really decide unless it's unsafe; if DNR isn't on your forehead you will get CPR.    So they did it and called it in and that's how they got lifeflight so rapidly.  What is believed to have happened is that my uncle swerved to miss an animal or something, lost control and hit a sign.  When he his the sign with this face that ultra-protective mask did a perfect job of protecting his face but because it didn't break his neck was fiercely thrown back, damaging the spinal word.

The end result is just so sad.  My aunt cares for him nearly constantly.  His cognition is normal and his body does little.  He is severely depressed at all times and has aged drastically.  People with injuries like his do not have a particuarly long long expectancy and he is entering the end of what statistically he'll have.

I hate when someone tells me something and then says "at least this isn't your situation".  But in this case I tell myself that.  In ways he is the one who modeled a good father to us more than anyone else.  I remember that at my sister's wedding about 6 months before when the bridal party danced neither my groomsman nor I had a clue what we were doing, turning it into my laughing until I cried as we tripped and he nearly pushed me over and my shoes slid on the floor I looked over and my uncle was watching this with tears running down his face from laughing at us.  That's how I'll already remember him, the last time I saw him well.

But today he deserves a post of his own.  His loss has been indescribable.  It makes my situation look like nothing.