My Son's Overdose - The Hospital 2

My Son's Overdose:
The Hospital - 2

    Doctors started coming.

     There was a doctor for everything. A neurologist for his brain, a doctor for his kidneys, a doctor for his heart, a doctor for his liver, a doctor for his lungs.. all coming at different times and each telling me something different, until I thought I was going to go crazy. One doctor would say "He's going to make it", then two hours later another doctor would tell me "He's going to die." I lived through this up-down-up-down for days. Doctors can seem like God when you are afraid, their words seeming to hold some magical power over life and death. These gods could not agree on anything.
     Confused, I turned to the nurses who told me that doctors don't necessarily talk to one another at all, they leave notes for each other. Those notes obviously left out "And here is what I told the mother..." It was maddening, with none of them agreeing on what would happen to my son.

     We were confused about a lot of things. In the beginning, when they told us Josh's heart had stopped because his kidneys had failed, we somehow (secretly) got it into our heads that if his kidneys would just start working again, he would make it. I don't know why we thought that. I suppose we knew better, but your mind hears what it wants to I guess, and you'll grab onto any hope.
     We didn't allow ourselves think about the brain damage he'd suffered. We just talked about his kidneys, watching day and night, hoping they'd start working, as if that would somehow save his life. Of course, they never did. Eventually one of the doctors, seeing our "delusion", explained it to us in very direct terms. The reality was that even if his whole body were suddenly healed and fine, his brain was not, and never would be again.

     We watched the vitals monitor above his bed as if it were a bomb that might go off at any moment. Everything was touch and go. His heart would suddenly race, his blood pressure would drop, his oxygen level would go up and down, and we, standing there helpless, didn’t know if he would live from one moment to the next. Each day was a horrifying emotional roller coaster. One doctor would tell me "Josh wil probably die today." Then by evening another doctor would tell me to have hope. I can't tell you what that was like...terror, joy, terror, joy, over and over, day after day.

     Then Josh began to swell. His face, hands, feet, everywhere. He no longer looked like himself. It was so frightening. I asked his girlfriend to bring some pictures of Josh from her house (I was 100 miles from home), so that the nurses and doctors could see who he really is. I wanted them to see him as a person, a wonderful boy with a big heart and carefree smile. It didn’t do much good. Most of the nurses, while efficient, remained cool and aloof. All but one..one very special angel of a nurse named Barb. Without her, I would not have survived it.

     The days wore on, and the bite to Josh’s tongue began to cause other complications. They had given him platelets to try to slow the bleeding, and it helped a little, but it also caused the blood pooling in his mouth to clot. They had to be very careful not to disturb this, or the profuse bleeding would start again, instead of the slow trickle it had become.
      But as the days wore on, pieces of this would break off and slip down his throat, suddenly blocking his breathing tube. Without warning, he would start to strangle. How can I say how terrifying that was? Him lying there completely still as his face turned purple from lack of air. I can't get the visions out of my head. I'd scream for the nurses, and they would have to rush in and try to suction it out. I grew afraid to leave his side, terrified this would happen when no one was looking. My sisters or his girlfriend had to sit with him before I would leave the room. He was not to be left alone for even a second.

     On the 4th day, they asked me to step out for a minute so they could do his respiratory therapy ( a suctioning thing that involved putting water down his throat, which terrified me to watch)…so I left the room. Afraid they might leave him alone afterward, I came back and stood outside the curtain instead, waiting for them to finish.

       I heard the respiratory therapist (this particular one was a cold, unfeeling man)..I heard him tell the nurse he thought it was really stupid to do all this just to keep Josh alive. He said it so sarcastically, like why don’t they just pull the plug and get it over with??? Oh, I was furious. I yanked back the curtain and walked in, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I marched across the room and grabbed Josh’s picture and sat it on the table near the bed, and glared at the man. The nurse was so embarrassed she just left the room.
     How was I going to make anyone understand that this was my baby lying here? Yes, he is 21, but that is still a baby. He hasn’t even begun life yet, there is so much left to do.

    Josh’s girlfriend was terribly distraught. He had lived with her at her apartment for about a year, (his first real girlfriend), and I tried my best to comfort her. I was so grateful that she had done CPR. I knew it must have been awful and frightening for her to go through that.
      She was absorbed in her own pain, and I totally understood. They were young and this was their first time of being "in love". But like most young girls that don't yet have much life experience to draw on when making decisions, it was hard for her to see anything beyond their boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.
     We (our family) had moved away from this city the year before. Josh had decided to stay behind because they were dating and his job was there. So for a year, it had been just the two of them. Perhaps because of this, it was difficult for her to grasp that Josh had an entire family beyond her..... brother, sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, a mother, father, step-father, cousins...people who had known and loved Josh his entire life.

     Grief effects people in odd ways, and this was the first time she'd ever really had to "share" Josh with anyone. I could see a strange sort of rivalry brewing in her, and I remember thinking, oh no, what a horrible time for this to begin. You can imagine what I'm trying to say. My kids, my husband, everyone was falling apart, and I had them to worry about as well. Also, being a young girl with no children of her own, I knew she was unaware of what I might be going through as a mother. You have to be a mother to understand what it is to watch your child dying.

     This is supposed to be about being honest, right? To say how I really felt?

      Is it wrong of me to say that it was difficult for me to have her family and co-workers coming in and out of the room? They were complete strangers to us. Most of them didn't even know Josh. She knew our family, but hers had lived in another state so we'd never met any of them.
     Never in my life will I ever be in a more fragile state, never more anguished or vulnerable than I was at his bedside. It was difficult beyond belief, having strangers coming in to "observe" me and my dying son. He was so pitiful. I resented people looking at him. I know how that might sound, I swear I do, but right or wrong, it was how I felt at the time.
      He would not have liked people looking at him the way he was. In a coma, completely helpless, when my son had always been a strong, courageous, and charismatic boy. But these were people there to support his girlfriend, as our family was there to support each other, so I stiffened my spine when they stared at me, and did my best to hold my emotions in check in front of people. But it was hard, nonetheless.

Why does it make me feel guilty to say that out loud? It shouldn't. My child was dying,

    I've thought about it a lot, and realized I am only human. Had the tables been turned, and it was his girlfriend lying there, I’m sure it would have been difficult for her mom to have our family (who she does not know), and Josh’s buddies from work strolling in and out of the room during her moments of personal anguish.
     I can only hope that one day his girlfriend will come to understand how hard that time was for others, and how much I held myself together for her sake. Her friends and family had of course, all been very kind, please do not misunderstand. They truly were, and I did appreciate it. It’s just that between a mother and child, those moments were so personal. My anguish was so great, and it was just hard to be around strangers. I felt I had to hide my grief, if that makes any sense.

     She doesn't know about this webpage, and probably never will. By now I'm sure she has gone on with her life, as she should. Life has to go on, after all.

I'm sure some of you reading this have lost children that were around my son's age. They probably had boyfriends or girlfriends too. Being adults, we know that life takes a lot of twists and turns before we settle down for good. In all honesty, while my heart broke for Josh's girlfriend, I simply could not see her as she wished to be recognized.... I could not see her as "a widow". They were too young, not married, not even engaged. If these comments seem strange, read on and you will understand. Things took a most heartbreaking turn.