As stated several days ago, I'm going to do my best to retell the events of the past 3 weeks. This is going to be difficult but I believe it's important I share it. Here goes.
Monday, August 22 Rachel woke up complaining of severe headaches and loss of vision. Her mother, father and sister were in town and they were planning to spend the day together. Rachel called me at work and explained how bad her head hurt and that she felt "disoriented." I asked her to go to the emergency room. I have to back up a few years to fully explain the situation. Two years ago Rachel was diagnosed with a microadnoma (a small spot in the pituitary gland). We were told, at the time, that if Rachel ever experienced severe headaches or loss of vision to go see a doctor because the microadnoma could possibly be growing. Remembering this, I urged Rachel to go to the ER. Due to her family being in town she hesitated but finally went. She asked me to watch Abbey while she went to the ER with her mother. She came back that night with a negative catscan test and orders to follow up with a neuro-surgeon and an eye doctor. We did't think much of it. I assumed her microadnoma was growing and we would take care of it with medicine. We scheduled an appointment with our primary care physician so we could get referrals to see a neuro-surgeon, etc...
The appointment with our family doctor was scheduled for Wednesday, August 24th. She tollerated the headaches and vision problem on Tuesday. Wednesday we saw our family doctor and she ordered an MRI of the brain. She explained that the MRI was priority because that's what a neuro-surgeon would want to begin with. The MRI was scheduled for the next day, Thursday, August 25th. I took off work to take her to the MRI. It was scheuled for 2:00 p.m. Rachel and I arrived back at home around 5:00 p.m. and just a few minutes after we arrived I received a call on my cell phone from our family doctor. It was one of the sickest moments of my life. The doctor explained that Rachel and I needed to get to the ER right away. A tumor was found on her brain. I remember the doctor saying, "Klint, this is not good." She further explained that this had nothing to do with the microadnoma, it was a tumor. I explained this to Rachel, we got ourselves together and drove to the ER. At this point I'm sure Rachel and I were in shock.
We were checked into the ER and given a private room. Our family doctor was busy trying to locate a neuro-surgeon that was in our insurance plan that could see us at the ER. We waited and waited. Finally the ER doctor told us we would be admitted for the night and the neuro-surgeon would see us in the morning. I could not bear the thought of sitting through the night in limbo. To our surprise, the neuro-surgeon showed up just before midnight. He introduced himself to us and went to examine the MRI. He came back a few minutes later with the films and explained Rachel had a tumor. He pointed it out on the film (easy to see as it was the size of a golf ball). He went on to say that it looked like a "rare" tumor and he did not think it originated in the brain. His suggestion was that we meet with him the next day and schedule a time for it to be taken out ASAP (within just a few days). He then said there was no need to stay in the hospital and released us to go home. What a miserable night. I spent the next 5 days thinking that my wifes body was full of cancer. Needless to say, there were a lot of tears shed. My wife and I held each other and cried all night.
The next day (Friday, August 26) I woke up early to find my father-in-law on the computer with the phone in his lap. He was not satisfied with the first diagnosis and was wanting Rachel to get a second opinion. Remember, we had an appoinment with the original neuro-surgeon at 3:00 p.m. I agreed and we started working. We were making "cold" calls to U of M, Henry Ford, etc... We were also calling all the people we knew who could possibly "pull some strings." Some how, some way, the top neuro-surgeon at Henry Ford Hospital (which is one of the finest medical facilities in the U.S.) agreed to see us at 3:30 p.m.!!! I've never believed that God manipulates circumstances so that I get what I want, however, I have no other way to explain this...God's eyes were on the sparrow. We began to get ready to head towards downtown Detroit for our appointment. For some reason I felt the urge to dress up, I put my best shirt and tie on (I guess I felt like this would send a message to the doctors that we were serious). We were meeting with Dr. Rosenblum (top neuro-surgeon) and Dr. Mickelson (Oncologist-cancer doctor) and if your familiar with the Kirkpatrick story-Dr. Mickelson was Katies doctor. They both examined Rachel and then explained the MRI films. They both concurred that it was the size of a golf ball, however, they thought it was a tumor that originated in the brain (which at the time seemed like good news, seeing our previous neuro-surgeon thought it was in other places). The bad news was that they both believed the tumor was probably malignant. We scheduled a surgery for the following Thursday. I instantly broke down. I'll never forget that moment, as Dr. Rosenblum left the room he embraced me and told me he would do everything he could to make my wife well...I remember thinking...they don't pay this man enough. He was so gentle and kind. And I knew I was in the presence of greatness.
Well that was Friday and we had a rough weekend. As I stated earlier, I lived 5 days thinking that Rachel's days were numbered. Saturday is a blur in my memory. The only thing I remember was that I had two dear friends (Travis Bass and Andy Blackston) fly from great distances (Idaho and Tennessee) to be with me-Wow, how's that for friends! I remember Sunday because we decided to go to church, I did not want to go but Rachel did. Rachel had one special request, she really wanted to sing "Blessed be the name of the Lord." I called my brother-in-law, Randy Speck, the worship leader at Lake Orion church of Christ and he said he knew the song but he had not taught it to the congregation yet. I asked him to sing it anyway. He led the song that Sunday morning and there were 3 people singing; Randy, Rachel and myself. Our favorite part of the song is the bridge, "He gives and takes away, He gives and takes away, our hearts will choose to say, Lord, blessed be Your name." I remember motioning to Randy to keep singing that bridge...and with tears streaming down our faces, we sang.
Monday, August 29th is when it all started. We woke up that morning and decided to take Abbey to the doctor. Since Rachel had to stop nursing, Abbey was not taking ANY formula and we were concerned. I asked Rachel to stay home but she wanted to go. Abbey's doctor is a 1/2 drive there and back so I was concerned about having Rachel out. We must have been about half way to the doctor and Rachel started to feel awful. She complained of a splitting headache and she was dizzy. Moreover, she felt like she was going to vomit (which was a new complaint). This really worried me. I was hoping it was just because she did not have any breakfast and was on some powerful med's. We arrived at the doctors office and she did not even have enough energy to go in. She wanted to sit in the car and lean the seat back. I took Abbey into the doctor's office. This was very difficult because in the waiting room I was surrounded by several mothers with their daughters. Remember, I am still under the impression that Rachel has cancer and I can't help but think, how am I going to raise an 8 month old? We finally were called back to see the doctor and I kept running back and forth, checking on my wife and checking on my daughter. The doctor gave us some good tips and said if she didn't improve to bring her back in a few days. On the way home Rachel really started to feel bad. I stopped and got her some crackers and a soft drink thinking it would sooth her stomach. As soon as we got home she threw up. She callapsed on the chair in the living room and did not have the energy to make it upstairs to our bedroom. After about 30 minutes I carried her upstairs and put her in bed, she felt miserable as she vomited again. I was not sure what to do. We were scheduled to go to Henry Ford the next day, Tuesday, August 30th, for some pre-operation testing. I just kept thinking, if she can hold on to tomorrow. She rested several hours, however, she was very uncomfortable. She kept complaining of a splitting headache. I went upstairs to check on her around 5:00 p.m. and I found her lying in a puddle of her own urine. I knew she was in trouble. I tried to get her to respond to me and she was completely out. I pulled her up to a sitting position and I saw her eyes roll back in her head and she went limp. At this point she was totally unresponsive.
I called for Sue (Rachel's mother) who was downstairs with Abbey to call 911. I held Rachel in my arms and begged her to hold on while the ambulance was on the way. The fire dept. showed up first then the ambulance. They gave her oxygen, I.V., checked her vitals, etc... She was alert but I knew something was not right. We finally got her into the ambulance and headed to the hospital in Rochester (30 minute drive). I was given permission to ride in the ambulance. We arrived at the hospital and they immedietly got to work. The doctors were thinking she had a seizure. Her vitals were not strong and I could see the doctors were concerned. They took her in for a catscan (I threw a magnetic cover on and stayed right by her side). The doctors now are very concerned because her brain has "shifted" and they know she's in trouble. Furthermore, it was starting to effect her heart because she was not showing any "P" waves and she was having a 3 second pause in her heartbeat. I was bedside witnessing all this and trying to keep Rachel alert. The ER doctors were on the phone with Henry Ford pleading that they would allow a transfer. Henry Ford explained that they did not have any bed's and would allow the transfer when they had more room. Our ER doctors were noticeably upset because they knew the condition Rachel was in.
All this happened over several hours as I never left Rachel's side (at times even singing to her-and for those of you who have heard me sing!). The ER doctors finally, around midnight decided to transfer us up to ICU hoping Henry Ford would call soon. We got up to ICU and the nurses were great. They, however, understood Rachel's condition and explained to me that there was nothing they could do in the event of an emergency. This particular hospital did not have a neuro-surgeon on call. All the nurses started calling Henry Ford begging we get Rachel transferred. Rachel was not not doing good as she was going in and out of awareness. In fact, the nurses gave her an injection (more than once) of something that would bring her back when she was unresponsive. FINALLY, around 2:30 a.m. an ambulance showed up to transport her to Henry Ford. We got her loaded up (it took forever) and our family doctor INSISTED that an ICU nurse travel down to Henry Ford with Rachel on the ambulance. This nurse carried with her the drug that was bringing Rachel back when she would not respond. Again, I was able to ride in the passenger seat of the ambulance, however, the driver was not happy about it. We pulled out and headed to downtown Detroit (about a 45 minute ride that time of night).
The driver actually struck up a nice conversation with me and we were enjoying a nice chat. I was starting to relax a little knowing we were on our way to one of the top hospital's in the country. We got about half way there and one of the nurses poked her head through the opening and said, "step on it were losing her!" I'll never forget that voice or that moment. The driver turned his lights and sirens on and took off. I glanced over at the speedometer to see the needle buried over 100 m.p.h. I was sick.
When we arrived at Henry Ford I had know idea if Rachel was alive or dead. I jumped out when we stopped and ran around to the back. Rachel was alive but the nurse said she was "borderline." We rushed up to the ICU unit and there was a nurse that refused to let me back while they transferred her into a bed. This was the first time I was seperated from her all night. After about 10 minutes I went back and she seemed to be stable. The neuro-surgeon on call had evaluated her and said he wanted her to be seen first thing in the morning by our neuro-surgeon, Dr. Rosenblum (who was set to do surgery on Rachel Thursday). I went over to kiss Rachel and she asked for her glasses. I told her they were out in the waiting room and I would have to go get them. I went out to the waiting room and my brother, John Pleasant and friend, Scott Samuels were there. They said her glasses were down in their car. They went down to get them and I waited in the waiting room. After 10 minutes or so they still had not returned with the glasses. I couldn't wait any more and I went back to see Rachel. When I got back to her the nurse was concerned because she was unresponsive again. This time it was not good. The nurse even started to panic a little. She paged the neuro-surgeon back up and while we waited the nurse and I tried to get Rachel to respond. No luck. Moreover, her heart was acting up again and this had the nurses VERY concerned. The neuro-surgeon arrived and when he could not get her to respond he lifted her eyelids and flashed a bright light in her puplis, there was NO response at all. The doctor immediately started working. He called down and ordered an emergency catscan. They rushed Rachel onto a stretcher and took off.
I followed them to the elevator and there was no room for me to squeeze in. The doors shut and I was left in the hallway. I waited for about 30 minutes having no idea what was going on. The neuro-surgeon finally came up to see me. He explained to me that the swelling in her brain had doubled since the last catscan (a few hours ago) and that she had to go in for emergency surgery. He explained that she was being prepped as we speak and that he wasn't even concerned with the tumor, he was going in to try and "save her life." His exact words were, "I'm attempting life-saving surgery." He asked me to sign a consent form. As I cried I explained to him how much she meant to me and asked him to do his best work. He said he would. This was around 4:30 a.m.
The next 4 hours were the emptiest hours I have ever experienced. I sat in a cold dark hallway while a doctor was trying to save my wifes life. Needless to say, I had all kinds of thoughts and emotions running through my head. Thoughts of how I was going to make it without her and how I was going to raise a daughter on my own. However, the thought that KEPT haunting me was; I knew my wife was somewhere very close to me (a floor or two away) but she was lying lifeless on an operating table. I could not get this thought out of my head. I do want to mention that through all this, my brother and Scott stayed right by my side. At one point a nurse came up around 5:00 a.m. or so and handed me Rachel's earings but would give me know information. Around 5:30 a.m. my family started to show up, mother, father, sister, more friends, etc... I sat there motionless waiting for a doctor. Sometime between 8:00 and 8:30 a.m. Dr. Rosenblum walked in (which surprised me because he was not there when Rachel went in). He explained that he was paged in the middle of the night and got there as quick as he could. He went on to say (while holding me) that Rachel did not have a tumor but an abscess (an infectious mass). He further explained that there was a lot of swelling and Rachel was MINUTES away from dying before they even started surgery. He said that he got all the infection out but had no idea if Rachel would wake up. He then added, "And if she wakes up I have no idea if she will have any brain activity, and if there is brain activity, I don't know how much brain damage there may be." There was just know way to know yet. He said the only thing we could do was "wait and pray."
At about 10:00 a.m. we still had no word. I couldn't stand it anymore. I snuck away alone and started looking for the recovery room. I went down a few floors and a doctor (whom I had never seen) asked me if I was Rachel's husband. He explained that he was part of the "team" that performed the surgery. He took me into the recovery room and pointed to the room Rachel was in. I peeked in and instantly broke down. Rachel was moving her limbs and "moaning." I thought to myself, we are over the first hurdle because she seems to be waking up. I did not have the courage to walk all the way up to her at that time, she was connected to all sorts of wires and tubes (including one coming our of her head). I rushed back upstairs to inform the others that she was moving and moaning. I sat in the waiting room for another hour. I worked up the courage to go back and see her. I snuck away (alone) and found the recovery room. This time I went up to her and whispered, "I love you," she whispered back, "I love you too." I broke down. I figured that had to be a GOOD sign. I did not leave her side again until about 9:00 p.m.
They eventually transfered us into ICU and we began the recovery process. The doctor explained the next 24-48 hours were critical. Well the rest of the story is details. She recovered nicely. We were released from the hospital. She has lost most of her vision in the right eye. She struggles some with her short term memory and her personality is altered a bit. But she is alive and she is as beautiful as ever. We are optimistic that she will make a full recovery. In fact, she got her staples out today. What an experience. I hope I can keep journaling because I have learned so much. I stared death right in the face and I know it does not have the last say. My faith strengthened not weakened and I realized what a blessing family and friends are. I love my wife and I love my daughter and I am going to cherish EVERY moment I have with them. However, I realize that eventually we will part for a time...but if "the story" is true...we will be together forever.
Thank you for taking the time to take part in this journey with me.
Warmly,
Klint
