From the journal...And the drama continues...

When I don't have access to my blog, I do keep a journal - it's a beautiful book that my mother bought for me during my last trip after I'd said "wow, this is a beautiful book" and then put it back on the shelf because I didn't want to spend that much money on a book I may or may not use. Mothers... you gotta love 'em.

So here's what followed after the first week back home to see my mum and help my dad out a little. I'd been home for a week and a half looking after mum, sorting her pain medication out (a two hour job initially), doing some housework and a little bit of cooking and helping my sister out by keeping an eye on the kids for her while she worked - my nieces are a joy, really. As it happened, I came at a very good time and turned out to be really useful, ok ex?

7/4/10
Hospitals smell like painkillers. The type you inhale from a portable thingummy-jig while the paramedics pump morphine into your veins in an attempt to quell the excruciating pain you are having, all the while loading you into the back of an ambulance.

So ended the night of my 43rd birthday. My mum attached to a vial of morphine and me riding behind her, trying to calm her and assure her that I was still there.

It was my first ever 'emergency' - I've never been in, nor called, an ambulance before (and I didn't call it, my dad did). Had it not been for the fact that I was accompanying my mum to the hospital, it probably would have been rather exciting - riding around in a van with two cute, capable guys - what's not to love! Being in the ambulance was, at the very least, reassuring - we had everything we needed at that point and mum was coping and calmer. When we arrived at the hospital, I didn't want to get out. I knew once they opened the door of this little medical haven, that things would change and there would be more pain. I wasn't wrong.

For the next hour, while waiting for a bed in the emergency department, the paramedics continued to try and control the pain that was ravaging my poor mother. Drugs send you stupid and my mother was no exception. They pumped even more morphine into my precious mother's arm while she periodically passed out, writhed in pain and hallucinated. It was hell for her and so painful to see. I couldn't help myself and I cried for her distress. And yet, her character still managed to fight it's way through the haze of drugs. You know how mothers are, always checking on you. She asked whether I'd bought the tomatoes for dinner, whether I'd cooked that meat up yet, had we eaten dinner and she even remembered it was my birthday and apologised for making it a terrible one. "Fancy having to spend your birthday here" she lamented. Only hours before she'd been insisting that I not cook the schnitzel I'd bought because she didn't think I should cook on my birthday. I understood where she was coming from, but I wanted schnitzel for dinner, not fast food crap! In the end, I gave in, told my dad to let it go and that we'd get bbq chicken and something else for dinner. Funny how things turn out. I didn't have to cook that night and dinner was a cheese sandwich at 3 am the next morning.

Doped up on drugs as she was, she became paranoid too. She was sure she heard the other ambulance guys telling each other that they were going to carry me off somewhere. She swore like a trooper and then apologised. In between tears, I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of what she was saying but it was as hard to do that as it was not to cry.

I'd like here to acknowledge to efforts of Nick and Charlie (who I know will never read this, but that's beside the point) - the two paramedics who calmly came and rescued us all from the pain mum was in. They calmed her, but they saved us too because we honestly did not know what else to do for mum. It was beyond us because we are not doctors and they came to the rescue. Their calm confidence was like balm to the whole situation. When they turned up and brought in their bag of tricks, I instantly trusted them. I had to I guess, because there was nothing else for it. All I wanted was for them to take the pain away from her - nothing else mattered beyond that moment.

The wait in the emergency room was interesting, scary and something I don't want to do again. Interesting from the point of view that it was like being in one of those horrible reality shows. I could almost hear the narrators voice announcing our arrival - "... and this is L. After having an operation on her spine to remove a nasty infection, L has found herself in excruciating pain and has had to return to hospital to find out what's causing it. Her daughter, who's looking rather scared and bewildered, has come back from overseas to help look after her..."

The other interesting thing was the demeanour of the paramedics. They don't get attached or emotional around the patients - they have to be that way of course because you could imagine the stress. They talk politely to you, they do their job and they joke around and talk with one another as if it were any other job. Amazing to see.

We waited for an hour with those 'nice boys' as my mum called them. The whe was wheeled into the emrgency department and tended to by a young nurse, Biance, who showed equal amounts of confidence and compassion. She was our nurse for a mere hour before her shift ended and nurse Brian took over. We didn't meet him until I'd pressed the 'nurse' button. I couldn't wait any longer to know when mum would be able to see a doctor. 20-something, cute-ish and with a gentle bedside manner, it was his doses of morphine that managed to calm mum's ever-growing pain. I liked his initiative - let's get to this pain before it peaks and keep you comfortable shall we.

My mum's pretty good with pain. Her arthritis means she lives with it everyday, but this pain has her floored. She's terrified that the doctor's won't be able to fix this and she's have it forever - she'd rather die.

Dr Nick eventually came around, I don't know how long we waited, but it didn't seem that long. He reminded me of David Cook, American Idol winner in 2008 - absurd I know. He listened to the whole story and I thought it was good of him because it's a complicated story. He listened, checked and thought about it and said he'd consult with her previous doctors. He said he didn't think there was an abscess or infection and at that point I wanted to believe him, but I didn't. I wanted scans and tests. I wanted problem-solving, the type you see on TV in House. I wanted my mum to be well again and she wanted her life back. Indeed, she was still thinking at that point that she would be coming home with us. I wondered at that point, what scenario we would actually get.

In the end, a doctor from Neurology came and saw her. He was present during her operation and explained that they'd actually removed some bone from her vertebrae (news to us). With some bone missing, the spine is weaker and the vertebrae is crushing together and hitting nerves and that's what's causing the pain.

As a side note, I must be getting old. All the doctors, nurses and paramedics look like kids straight out of a local soap opera - with the exception of Dr Nick, who looked about mid 30's. The guys from Neurology looked young. Neurology sounds so important doesn't it? You'd think doctors and surgeons from that department would be at least middle aged. Nope, definitely not. They guy looked 30, if that. But he spoke with a confidence that belied his young looks, so I could be wrong. And he was Eurasian and they always look like kids until they hit their 40's.

to be continued....