Of Frailty and Mortality

February was a medical roller coaster ride, one that I would most definitely not want to ride again.

February 1st dawned, a lovely sunny day. It was a Tuesday, and in the world of Busy Little Bee, that means Sanity. I picked up my friend T and brought her back to the house so we could grab a coffee before I dropped her at her dentist's appointment later that morning. Tertius and Quarta were both home sick, and played quietly in their room. As we sat chatting, I started feeling... funny. Not HAHA funny, but rather, somehow off in a way that I really couldn't describe. Within 10 minutes of the onset, I felt like I needed to put my head down, so I must have felt some sort of low-grade dizziness. Then I had to close my eyes, and I absolutely felt dizzy by that point.

I thought I was having a blood sugar issue, and my blood glucose tests seemed to bear that out, but when the nausea hit, and the clammy sweat began, and the falling sensation started, we knew I needed to get to a doctor. T called our friend A, and the three of us figured out a plan for getting T to the dentist, and me to the ER. I texted Hubby to let him know what was happening, and that I'd keep him updated.

When A arrived, I was sitting on the sofa with my head laying on the arm. We talked about her driving the kids and I to my parents' house, dropping the kids off there, then taking me to the hospital to get looked at. Once Tertius and Quarta's coats and shoes were on, she asked me if I could get up and into her car on my own, and that's when the world started moving out of my control. I sat up, then laid right back down again, on the other couch cushion, unable to stand. A took decisive action and called the ambulance, and I called Hubby in the middle of class to tell him the ambulance had been called - he only answered because he knew something was going on, and me calling would only be in an emergency.

The EMTs got there and did an assessment; the decision was made to transport me to the hospital. I had the chance to call the kids over and explain to them that Mummy was feeling very dizzy and sick, and that the nice men were going to take me to the hospital to help me feel better, and that A was taking them to stay with Granpa and Grandma while that happened. A put my shoes on and the EMTs helped me to stand, walk down the stairs, and get me onto the gurney (I felt like I was falling the whole time, and also like I was leaning horribly to the right). The wave of nausea crashed over me hard, and the dry retching started.

T got picked up, A bundled the kids into her car, and we were all off. I think the door got locked, and my purse was grabbed and put in A's car. The ambulance stayed parked at the end of the driveway for a few minutes while they got some Gravol into me and asked me some more questions. Then I went for the worst car ride of my life. If you ever feel dizzy and nauseous, please avoid driving anywhere.

It took a while to get into the ER proper, and the awesome EMTs stayed with me the whole time. Hubby arrived not long after I did, followed quickly by A. She stayed until I was safely tucked into the ER, and Hubby never left my side. The diagnosis was vertigo, brought on by a nasty viral infection. T kept in touch with Hubby to see how I was, and A went home and made soup for my whole family for dinner. Arrangements were made for my dad to pick the other kids up from school, and they hung out with G&G until I was discharged around 5, I think.

I was still not feeling well; having frequent dizzy spells and nausea. The prescription for vertigo meds was filled, and we headed over to my parents for rest and dinner. Hubby was only able to get a few spoons full of soup into me, so he popped out to the store for Powerade and the prescription. I was still getting hit with overwhelming waves of dizziness and nausea every time my head moved. Mumsy hated seeing me so powerless, and as she also has vertigo, she knew exactly how bad off I was. It was decided that I just couldn't make it back up the stairs that night, so we arranged for Uncle J to kid wrangle overnight, and Hubby and I would couch surf at the 'rents. My father has been experiencing increasingly poor health over the past two years, and his hemoglobin levels had slowly been declining, causing extreme fatigue for him. We've been very worried about his health, but his GP (who retired in December) just chalked it up to getting older.

And here is where I see the hand of God in all of this.

Because I was on the couch, I could hear my father labouring to breathe in his sleep, and his restlessness. Because I was on the couch, I heard my parents whispering at 6:50 AM, talking about how horribly he'd slept, and about the angina he'd been feeling all night. At that, I was wide awake, trying to sit up, and informed them that I was calling an ambulance. By God's grace, Dad didn't argue. Instead, he sighed and said, "Okay."

He spent the next 16 days in hospital, trying to build up his hemoglobin, and undergoing numerous tests to try to determine the cause (without much success, I might add).

It's one thing to come face-to-face with your own frailty, but quite another to be faced with your parent's mortality. I have watched my parents' health decline to the point that I worry for them almost daily.

This wasn't in the manual.