Caringbridge – How it Started Day 1

On the morning of our eye doctor’s appointments last Friday (8/6), I was working as I normally do to rally everyone together to get ready for the trek out so we could be on time. Athena was getting dressed and I believed Earl to be doing the same.  Sitting at my computer around 11:25AM I heard a faint voice coming from the living room.  Not fully sure of what was being said I called out, “Earl?” and I heard a response but it was barely discernable.  I walked to the living room to find Earl at the french door entrance to our living room, hunched over, holding on to the door and complaining that the house was shaking.   I reassured him several times that it wasn’t the case.  All was steady.   He stated that someone was trying to grab him and pull him to the right.  And I assured him that no one was there but me. Through a 1/2 hour’s worth of cajoling and convincing, I finally get him to the bed and get in contact with his mother who was at the laundromat.   

In my thoughts, I’m deeply concerned that he’s had some kind of neurological event… a stroke… TIA… something…  I contact our good friend who is a Doctor that I trust who walks me through the basics of trying to provide him palliative care through the next few hours.  Take BP and glucose readings regularly, make sure he’s comfortable.  The next four hours are our barometer.   He lays down but he’s not fully at ease.   His mom comes up and he is able to calm himself a bit more.   He gets to a point where he’s able to get up, use the bathroom, take a shower, and sit at his computer for a good long time.  At a certain point, he complains of leg weakness and seeks out our bed.  Unusual for him – he’s only ever in our bed when it is time to sleep so he must really need to layout and be asleep.   He lays down for deep sleep – complete with snoring. His mom comes up to check on him and is taken aback at how deeply he is sleeping.   She remarks it as restorative sleep and ensures me that if I need anything she’s right downstairs.

I start to go back and forth in my mind that this is a pivotal time.  The decisions made in the next few hours could shift history.  It could be a stroke / TIA event and if he goes to sleep tonight, he may or may not wake up.  We could go to the hospital and spend all night there and try to get a sense of what is happening despite my friend’s detailed diagnosis.  What I didn’t want to do was be at a point a few weeks from now saying, “If only I’d have taken him to the ER he might still be ___________”. Functional.  Alive. Healthy.  Whatever.  I, spurred by my friend’s encouragement to take hold of a situation that WASN’T an emergency along with Earl’s PCP’s reaction to get to an emergency room to access imaging ( ct scan ) got me to convince Earl that we needed to take advantage of the night and get to an er.

After ordering some dinner, because he’d gotten his appetite back, he showered, Athena showered, we delivered her down to Gramma, and Earl and I loaded into the car to head to King’s County that boasted of their advanced Stroke technology and care. We got there at about 11:14PM.  Found parking up the block from the hospital and walked into the ER.  He and I sat there quietly after check-in and they called him into triage.   While he was in there, I felt a tickle in my throat.  I needed to cough.   But coughing in this new climate is NOT well received.   So I took a moment to go out to the area directly outside of the ER and cough a clearing cough so that I could get it out of my system and not scare anyone in my direct vicinity.   I came back in, the clerk at the information desk said, “Hi…” and I responded in kind – sure that they’d all seen me before.   I sat down in the chair I’d previously occupied and slumped down waiting for E to either come back out or for me to be called in to wait with him.  After about 5 minutes, a security guard who OBVIOUSLY needed a refresher on how a mask works best if it’s OVER your nose comes to me and informs me that “you can’t be here”.  I ask him where I can wait and he essentially tells me that he doesn’t care as long as it’s not in there.  I exit the ER waiting room and initiate a conversation with Dominic (my older brother) that lasts the duration of my tenure there at King’s County – THANK GOD FOR REAL FAMILY.   

I eventually get back to my car, drive to get gas and find parking directly in front of the hospital.   While waiting and chatting with my brother trying to get a sense of what was happening with Earl, I hear and feel a severe tug on my car door handle.  I turn to see a man looking bewildered about why the handle didn’t work as I SCREAMED a stream of obscenities at him through my rolled-up window.  He takes a few steps back into oncoming traffic then stumbles to the car ahead of me and proceeds to pass out on his back on the sidewalk.   All I could see from my vantage point was his hand.  But I was pretty shaken up by it all.   

A few more hours go by and Earl announces that the ER Dr did a physical with him (no bloodwork, no imaging) and determined that he was dealing with vertigo and he needed to follow up with his PCP.   Vertigo by all accounts is NOT that serious if you’re not operating heavy machinery or driving. 

We get him home, we get him settled and the next day begins.