Close Call - BFF 192

     I can recall many close calls that occurred towards the end of my mother’s life that I got an up close and personal take on.  Since I was her constant companion and primary caretaker through her entire illness, it is little wonder that I witnessed quite a few close calls.  The woman loved to cheat death.  I swear she got her jollies out of scaring the living be Je$u$ out of me because she would laugh after the scare had passed.  I personally was convinced she would never die.  That is probably why when I woke up one morning and found her dead it threw me into a tail spin of grief that took me years to recover from.

       Once my mother’s kidney’s failed it took a while to get her stabilized and her body used to the dialysis that was required three times a week. It was a big adjustment from being able to drink whenever you were thirsty and then peeing to watching how much you drank and not being able to pee at all.  Every single time she went to dialysis they would weigh her and determine how much fluid to take off.  In those first months, it couldn’t have been easy as she adjusted to the new regime to figure out what was the norm for her.

        My mom loved the Oak Ridge Boys, so my Dad planned a trip to Dollywood to see them.  We had never been to Dollywood and were excited to go.  We explored the park by day, and rocked along with the Oak Ridge Boys that night.  Afterwards we headed north for home.  My dad drove to the Tennessee state line and then I took the wheel. My mother came to sit in the front with me, and my Dad took the back seat.  I was always more in tune with my mom and how she was feeling than anyone else.  I noticed as I took over the wheel that my mom’s breathing had become more labored.  As we crossed over into Kentucky, I asked her if she was OK.   I glanced over and her eyes had a look of fear in them.  She quickly shook her head in the negative.  

          As fate would have it a blue hospital sign for the next exit presented itself at precisely that moment.  At that point my mom could no longer speak.  She pointed.  I took the exit and followed the signs.  I ignored speed limit signs in my panic and floored the gas pedal racing for that hospital. I pulled up at the emergency room door and ran inside looking for anyone who could help.  My dad had been dozing in the back seat.  Before he could even figure out what was going on, the ER staff had my mom on a gurney and were rushing her into the emergency room.  My dad and I took our places in the waiting room to wait.  

          It didn’t take long for someone to tell us that my mom was being transported by helicopter to a larger hospital almost 100 miles away where she would undergo emergency dialysis.  Her lungs were almost full of fluid and they had to act fast or she would be going home in a hearse.  Terrified, I watched my mother wearing a mask much like Darth Vadar being loaded into a medical helicopter.  My dad and I watched as the helicopter flew out of sight.  We hurried to our car with the directions to the hospital where the helicopter was headed.  

     When we arrived at the hospital we were told my mom was in intensive care.  She had been rushed into surgery upon her arrival because her dialysis access point had been rendered useless.  A new one had to be made, and she was undergoing emergency dialysis in an effort to save her life.  We were not allowed to see her and were led to a lonely waiting room.  We turned out the lights and tried to sleep.  I simply couldn’t.  I had to know how my mom was.  We prayed, we paced, but there was no more word for over 5 hours.  

       Finally, we were taken to see her.  There she was in intensive care hooked to so many tubes and breathing with the help of an oxygen mask.  Relief overwhelmed me and tears came to my eyes as a smile lit my face.    As soon as I seen her she grabbed my hand, I knew we had all survived this extremely close call  and at least this time, my mom be OK until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.