In October of 2003, my mother and I went camping at Lake Jocassee in South Carolina. I had just moved back home in order to save money for graduate school, and we were super excited about exploring the coves with my sweet, little Jon boat. While the trip was a huge success, we never did get the boat working properly — but that’s another story entirely. Because of the boating debacle (think no steering in the middle of the lake), we came home a little earlier than planned.
My memory is a bit foggy on the next few details, but either that night or the following night, we were at the local community theatre preparing for our perspective plays. I was doing a read-through for Neil Simon’s Rumors, and mom was working downstairs in the costume shop ironing nun costumes — she was the wardrobe mistress for The Sound of Music.
About thirty minutes into the read-through, Stan the costumer comes to me and says, “Nicole I think your mother is having a stroke.” As you can imagine I was completely flabbergasted and my adrenaline kicked into crisis mode. When I got downstairs, there was my mother — the quintessential stroke victim — complaining about her arm not working properly. All she was interested in was ironing those nun habits. I explained to her quite nicely that she was having a stroke and she needed to get in the damn car!
Fortunately, the hospital was less than five minutes away. When we entered the emergency room, folks immediately swarmed mom and began to do what they do best. I have never in all my life seen emergency medicine work so quickly and competently. It really is almost an art form.
To make a long, traumatic experience short, Mom was given the super duper anti-clotting drug (you must be given it within three hours) and in minutes she went from a stroke victim back to my gregarious, crazy mother. Within seconds, her hands unfurled, her speech became recognizable and her face no longer palsied. It is truly a miraculous medication.
Mom was extremely lucky and has no residual side effects from her stroke. However, shortly thereafter, she discovered she has something called atrial fibrillation. It is a pesky, irregular heartbeat, and most people either take medication for it or are lucky enough to naturally go back into sinus rhythm. Mom has not been so lucky. For the past eight years, she has tried all medications, been jump started more than anyone her cardiologist has ever known and exhausted all other alternatives. Except one — ablation. It is a pretty labor intensive procedure where they enter into the heart from the groin and scar the tissue that is all out of whack. Doctors have been encouraging Mom for years to do this, but she has been wary. Unfortunately, she has been experiencing a decline in health for the past year and a half and has found that her activities are limited. She is ready to take that next step and she has got a tremendous amount of folks rooting for her.
Back in June, we (Mom, Buddy, my Aunt Jean, Uncle Peter and myself) all headed to the God forsaken land that is known as Cleveland. The city was rainy and cold and really quite dreary, but it has an amazing heart hospital — The Cleveland Clinic.
Mom met with the head of the electro physiology department — Dr. Lindsey — and scheduled a date for her ablation surgery. November 10th.
We just got word this morning, however, that there has been a cancellation and her date has been moved up to September 20th. It is truly a blessing and we are all rejoicing!
The staff was incredible. From the doctors, nurses, PA’s, housekeepers — everyone was solicitous, kind and encouraging. We all feel extremely confident regarding Mom’s care.
This is Nakeyah — one of Mom’s nursing assistance. She was a doll. She even gave us her phone number so we could call her when we get back up there.
The hospital itself was gorgeous — original artwork everywhere. I love this sculptor made entirely of letters. The pictures at the beginning of this post were taken of a wall made of letters. Buddy promptly ran his fingers through them and only then did he see the sign that said Do Not Touch. Doh! 😀
The hospital itself is like a city within a city. Complete with bookstores, restaurants, boutiques and gift shops. The one thing that did shock me was a McDonald’s — in a cardiac hospital!! I guess it helps business. Sheesh.
Tours of all the artwork are offered daily.
I spent most of my time with Mom, but it was nice to come down to the lobby and hang out with all the kooky installations. They even had a gal playing a grand piano for ambiance.
Did I mention that the Cleveland Clinic also has their own police force?
This sculpture is made entirely of felt.
Super Cool!
Once they discharged Mom, we all went to the roof and had a photo shoot.
The roof was a nice place to come up for lunch, read a book or just meditate.
On a completely different note, can you tell that I’ve discovered the nifty processing buttons in Picnik? My favorites are Holga-ish, Orton-ish and Cross Process (the above effect). I am hopelessly addicted!
I’ll be sure to keep everyone posted as to Mom’s progress. We would appreciate all prayers and positive thoughts. Cheerio!
So glad I’ve stumbled upon this marvelous way to stay connected. Wonderful to be updated about your incredibly lovely mama. Please continue to keep us posted. Know that we are with you all the way. XOXOXO Suzann
Hi Nicole,
Mom’s ablation is Wednesday, October 5th.
Love you!
Jan