Hello. Long time no posting, but whenever the proverbial hits the fan I still feel compelled to shoot back here even though I lurk far more than I post.
Today - February 2nd - is my birthday. It started with my mother quite literally falling into my room onto my bed yelling my name.
Ok... quite an out there happy birthday greeting if I do say so myself.
After arousing from my sleep and noticing the profuse sweating and confused jumble of words I realised this was not a hello but a "HELP!" I held her hand for a minute and got her a wet towel... I helped as best as I could with words but after 4-5 minutes I knew this was not some random menopausal hot flush with an extra kick. Left the room and called Dad on the portable (they are not together but still remain friends). His experience in first aid was invaluable but in the interim I called an ambulance which arrived 10 minutes after Dad.
There was a moment where - after hanging the phone up on the emergency service - that I went back into my room and found Mum in a shocked, almost vegetative state. I *swear* I was unsure if she was alive or not... then she breathed. What a combo of relief and renewed panic!
Dad arrived and I felt a huge sigh of relief as he comforted her. I look back now surprised that I put aside any panic and rearranged furniture for the medics to enter ... and off Mum and Dad went.
So I had the job of telling her sisters the news before getting a lift to the central hospital where she was in the emergency department. She had been through the plethora of tests which had only revealed high blood pressure. We went up for the CT scan later which revealed the prognosis.
According to the neurosurgeon, it was mild. Her speech and response to stimuli is good as gold which is great. She has been tentatively booked in on Thursday for some non invasive coiling surgery.
All signs are positive. It's mild and it's treatable... so they've said. Apparently - strange as it seems - this is a really good way we've found these little buggers out. There was only the one, rather than discovering 4-5 aneurysms throughout.
Well that's off my chest. To see my Mother for the first time in my life so debilitated ... to see someone so close to me for the first time say the words "I'm frightened" and you can do *nothing* to stop the pain or truly alleviate that fear is harrowing.
A birthday to remember for sure... thanks for reading.
Today - February 2nd - is my birthday. It started with my mother quite literally falling into my room onto my bed yelling my name.
Ok... quite an out there happy birthday greeting if I do say so myself.
After arousing from my sleep and noticing the profuse sweating and confused jumble of words I realised this was not a hello but a "HELP!" I held her hand for a minute and got her a wet towel... I helped as best as I could with words but after 4-5 minutes I knew this was not some random menopausal hot flush with an extra kick. Left the room and called Dad on the portable (they are not together but still remain friends). His experience in first aid was invaluable but in the interim I called an ambulance which arrived 10 minutes after Dad.
There was a moment where - after hanging the phone up on the emergency service - that I went back into my room and found Mum in a shocked, almost vegetative state. I *swear* I was unsure if she was alive or not... then she breathed. What a combo of relief and renewed panic!
Dad arrived and I felt a huge sigh of relief as he comforted her. I look back now surprised that I put aside any panic and rearranged furniture for the medics to enter ... and off Mum and Dad went.
So I had the job of telling her sisters the news before getting a lift to the central hospital where she was in the emergency department. She had been through the plethora of tests which had only revealed high blood pressure. We went up for the CT scan later which revealed the prognosis.
According to the neurosurgeon, it was mild. Her speech and response to stimuli is good as gold which is great. She has been tentatively booked in on Thursday for some non invasive coiling surgery.
All signs are positive. It's mild and it's treatable... so they've said. Apparently - strange as it seems - this is a really good way we've found these little buggers out. There was only the one, rather than discovering 4-5 aneurysms throughout.
Well that's off my chest. To see my Mother for the first time in my life so debilitated ... to see someone so close to me for the first time say the words "I'm frightened" and you can do *nothing* to stop the pain or truly alleviate that fear is harrowing.
A birthday to remember for sure... thanks for reading.
.
