When Your Wife Has 30 Minutes To Live

The story below is the story I retold at the Pepperdine lectures. What a blessing it was to be there and share the class with Randy Harris. Rachel did a tremendous job and was able to minister to several hurting people in the audience. We already have more invitations to do this class than we can even handle. However, we will be doing this at Church In The Falls in Ohio next Sunday...A special place to both Rachel and I.

Pt.1
When Your Wife Has 30 Minutes To Live

It all started when I first felt my unborn child kicking at her mother’s stomach. Best I can remember that is when I first begun to second guess where we lived and what I did for a living. The life of a college basketball coach is not easy. In fact, for the first five years of our marriage I consistently worked 85-100 hours a week, lived on the road 5 months out of the year and spent much more time cultivating relationships with players than I did my wife.

However, I came by it honestly, as I knew at a very young age that I wanted to be a college basketball coach. That is the world I grew up in as my father has been a college basketball coach for over 30 years. However, the cliché’ is true “children change everything.”

I knew I hit “rock bottom” when it got to the point that even when I was home, I wasn’t home…I would get home at 9 or 10 and… Rachel and I sort of made that work but…

I knew I needed to make a change…I spent a lot of time with Randy as he walked me through the decision making process. He was a big help and offered an incredible amount of support as I decided to do the “Hard Right vs. the Easy Wrong.”

I had no idea what I would do if and when I stepped away from coaching. After all, that is all I had known for the past seven years. However, in February of 2005 I was able to spend some time with President Westerfield, the President at Rochester College. I grew up on RC’s campus as my grandfather was a founding father as well as President and my father has been serving there over 30 years. After a series of conversations I was offered a job at Rochester College…it seemed like a great fit and for the first time in 12 years I was headed home. I had no prior relationship with President Westerfield and he hired me to be part of his administration with virtually no experience at all. We moved to Michigan and began working at Rochester College in June of 2005.


We bought a house / started working and were enjoying raising a daughter


But then Monday, August 22, 2005 happened. Rachel woke up complaining of severe headache 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.

She came back that night with a negative cat scan test and orders to follow up with a neuro-surgeon and an eye doctor. At that time I wasn’t terribly concerned. B/C a few years back Rachel was diagnosed with a Micro-Adnoma.

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 tolerated the headaches and vision problem on Tuesday. And on 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 scheduled 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 remembered explaining to the Dr. “no you see she has a micro-adnoma…” And finally Dr. Zafar said, "Klint, this has nothing to do with a micro-adnoma, in fact, this is not good." I somehow 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 checked into the ER and were 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. I remember my dad’s body language as the doctor said this, he was on the other side of the curtain and he buried his head into the wall. The doctor suggested that we meet with him the next day (Friday) 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. 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 (remember, Rachel’s family was in town) on the computer with the computer mouse in one hand and the phone in the other. He was not satisfied with the first diagnosis and wanted Rachel to get a second opinion. He asked me, “Klint, tell me the top medical facilities in Michigan. And I said, “It’s Henry Ford or U of M.” 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.!!! Rachel and I were getting ready to head towards downtown Detroit for our appointment and without even discussing it we found ourselves in front of the mirror putting on our best clothes. For some reason we felt the urge to dress up, I put my best shirt and tie on. We were meeting with Dr. Rosenblum (top neuro-surgeon) and Dr. Mickelson (Oncologist-cancer 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 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.

Well that was Friday and we had a rough weekend. 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 (Tennessee and Idaho) to be with me-Wow, how's that for friends! I remember them begging me to get out of the house and I finally agreed to go for ice cream with them but felt awful and all I remember was wanting to get back to Rachel.


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.



Pt.2
When Your Wife Has 30 Minutes To Live

Monday, August 29th is when it all started. We woke up that morning and decided to take Abbey to the doctor. Due to the dye that was put in Rachel’s system because of the MRI Rachel had to stop nursing and Abbey was not taking ANY formula and we were concerned. I asked Rachel to stay home as she was not feeling well 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 doctor’s 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 start drinking 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 collapsed 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 tried resting, 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 and I thought she was dying in my arms.


As I held Rachel in my arms I yelled 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 we all 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 immediately got to work. There was an ER nurse that was there the night Rachel originally went in for the headache, he remembered Rachel and gave us special attention as he got us right in. The doctors were thinking she had a “grandma seizure.” Her vitals were not strong and I could see the doctors were concerned. They took her in for a cat scan (I threw a magnetic cover on and stayed right by her side). The doctors now are very concerned because the cat-scan revealed that her brain has "shifted" and they know she's in trouble. Furthermore, it was starting to affect 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 got so fed up with the repeated phone calls that they stopped answering our doctors calls. One of the ER doctors eventually grabbed my cell phone and started calling on it (b/c it obviously would not come up as “Crittenton hospital”). Henry Ford explained that they did not have any beds and would allow the transfer when they had more room. Our ER doctors were noticeably upset because they knew the condition Rachel was in and the hospital had no neuro unit.


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 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 hospitals 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! At this rate she will be DOA, which I knew stood for “dead on arrival.” 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.



Pt.3
When Your Wife has 30 Minutes To Live


When we arrived at Henry Ford I had know idea if Rachel was alive or dead. When the ambulanced stopped I quickly jumped out and ran around to the back. Rachel was still alive but the Meg (the nurse from Crittenton) looked at me and said, “she’s borderline." As the ER team and I rushed off with Rachel, Meg yelled from the ambulance that she could not get down. Meg was a very large nurse. I was torn but went back to help her. I pleaded with her to jump, promising her that I would catch her. She refused and finally I grabbed her and pulled her down onto me and I wasn’t expecting that kind of wait load and we hit the ground pretty hard. Little did I know at the moment that Meg blew out her ACL and we would be exchanging flowers in the next few days?


We then rushed up to the ICU unit and there was a nurse that refused to let me back while they transferred Rachel into a bed. This was the first time I was separated 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 by Dr. Rosenblum (her surgeon) as soon as he arrived (which was only a few hours because it was already around 4:00am). 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 had followed the ambulance. They said her glasses were down in their car. They went down to get them and I waited in the waiting room.


It seemed to be taking them a long time and 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 time it was worse and 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 pupils, there was NO response at all. The doctor immediately started working. He called down and ordered an emergency cat scan. 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. I didn’t know what to do. I remember the last thing I saw was her feet and I started towards the elevator to kiss them but the doors shut. I knew that’s that last time I would see her alive.


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 cat scan (a few hours ago) and that she had to go in right away 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.


I sat right there in hallway and buried my head in my hands. About 30 more minutes later a nurse came up to me and I remember bracing myself because I knew she was coming to tell me Rachel was dead. However, she handed me Rachel’s earrings but would give me no other information.


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 wife’s 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 and at one point bookended me and prayed. 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 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 out 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 transferred us into ICU and we began the recovery process. They explained the next 24-48 hours were critical. The rest of the story is details. She recovered nicely. We were released from the hospital. Her skull sat on ice for about 4 months as her brain healed. She wore a protective helmet. Her skull bone was replaced in mid-December and she is doing fine. She has lost most of her vision in the right eye. But she is alive and she is as beautiful as ever. We are optimistic that she will continue to make a full recovery. What an experience. 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 that I have known and believed all my life is true...we will be together forever.