Back to Amy

I guess I should finish up the story about Amy. I left off after she had been admitted to the hospital. For me this is part of my therapy. It has been a rough couple of months. I must say Amy is doing well, but I definitely had moments that I thought we were going to loose her. Most of it is a blur when I think back on it, so that is partially why I am wanting to record it.

Okay so she was admitted to the hospital and stayed there from Thursday until she was released on Tuesday. She vaguely remembers her hospital stay and the weeks after. She said it is like being really drunk and not remembering, but when someone mentions what you did, it starts to comeback to you. So I am hoping by documenting those weeks in her life it will help her remember. If you were to meet her on the street, you'd never know what she went through.

When she was first admitted, we still hadn't been told by the doctors it was a stroke. I wish I could say we had the best medical care for her, but we didn't. At this point I am just glad she had medical attention at all. It took a couple of days before the neurologist told us that it was a stroke and not a brain tumor. He didn't realize we were in the dark and hadn't been told by the admitting doctor what was going on. We learned after Amy was out of the hospital that the admitting doctor was in practice with the doctor from the ER, who diagnosed Amy with a standard migraine. I do believe if she had insurance from the get go, the doctor would have worked her up and found she already had a stroke. Instead she was sent home after blood work only and had a second stroke. The second stroke was the one that did the most damage.

It was very odd to watch my sister go through all this. We are very close and I probably know her better than anyone else. Her strokes were in the front right lobe and has a big impact on personality. Amy has always been a vivacious person, very lively and active. It was a very hard ordeal to go through. Each person is affected differently by stroke. It depends on what type of stoke, where in the brain it happens and how much damage is actually done. So during the time I was watching her heal, I had no idea if these were permanent changes. I would say she is probably about 95% back to herself. It was almost like watching a computer get rebooted after the power goes out. It needs to do a system check before it reboots to see if any files have been corrupted. (See I told you, I learn things from Alex by osmosis. I don't know if what I wrote is technically correct, but just the fact that I would go to a computer analogy shows he has been brainwashing me!) At first it was like her personality was completely stripped away. She wouldn't make eye contact when she talked to you and she was very monotone when she spoke. She made Ben Stein sound like the most animated person. (Bueller, Bueller) Then when you weren't talking to her, she would stare at you. It was an unblinking stare that would make you uncomfortable and self-conscience. She slowly came back to being her old self. She has had some changes though. It is hard for her to multi-task and she doesn't have the energy or focus that she used to. But she has made a remarkable recovery in a very short time. In just 3 months, she has gone from being paralyzed on her left side to walking, talking, driving, you name it.

It took a couple of weeks to get all the blood tests back that they ran in the hospital. We found out she has Factor V Leiden. It is somewhat common in Caucasians, about 5% of people have it. It's most dangerous when you don't know you have it. Once you know, you can take care of yourself better. I am very proud to say that she has quit smoking. Hold on that needs more highlighting:

Amy and Paul have quit smoking! It has now been 3 months!
I am so proud of you!

These past couple of months have been so tough on the whole family. She had to quit cleaning houses because she could just physically not do it anymore. So that has been hard, but it has been more than that. I have been so angry at her and I couldn't figure out why. I was so angry I was avoiding her, then I would feel guilty because I was abandoning her in her time of need. If ever there was a time she needed me it was now. But I just couldn't figure out why I was so mad.

Once I started working through my issues with this blog, it came to me. Our little family here is not that big. We have my Stepdad Paul, Amy and her daughter Olivia, Me, Alex and our children, and my cousin Kris. That's it. We are all very close, maybe even too close sometimes where we get on each others nerves, but either way we are close. Amy and I also have different fathers, her father passed away when she was just a teenager. She doesn't know his side of the family at all. As for my father, he passed away a year ago May. He wasn't much of a father to me, more of a source of pain. Paul has been there for us since before I started school. He is really the only father I've known and I am immensely proud of him. But I digress. I now realize I've been angry at her for almost dying. How dare she? Who does she think she is trying to die on me! Girl, if you go and die, I'll kill ya!

And like Forrest Gump said, "That's all I'm going to say about that!"

The ER Experience

Needless to say the ER is an experience all it's own. Every one who works at a hospital seems to wear scrubs, but their colors signify different things. I noticed pink was for Maternity, green was for Surgeons, purple were for Physical Therapists just to name a few. So when you first check in and are not familiar with the color scheme, you wind up telling your whole history to the triage nurse who is not the triage nurse but a candy-striper.

So I pulled up to the ER doors and run inside to get a wheelchair. I was just there a few weeks earlier when we thought Alex broke his ankle playing catch with the football on Easter Sunday. So I knew exactly where they stored them. I somehow manage to get Amy out of the truck and into the wheelchair without too much drama, but she did spill her water down the front of my pants as if I couldn't hold it. Great! She was really mad because I wouldn't stop on the way to the ER to pick her up some strawberry milk. Damn that strawberry milk!

I never knew you could be seen so fast by a doctor in the ER. We had her checked into triage by the time I parked the truck and walked back to the ER. They immediately wheeled her back and was seen by the doctor right away. I was amazed! Hell, women giving birth to twins in the parking lot won't see a doctor that quick! But I digress. The doctor asks her what brought her to the ER and of course she answers, My Sister did. So I go into the full story about the spray paint, migraine, the visit Monday night and her actions that day. I explained how she didn't care that her front door was standing wide open or anything. They ordered a CAT Scan and she's back within a few minutes. The doctor comes back and said she can't tell exactly what is going on from the CAT Scan alone, so she'll need to do an MRI. She said it looks like either a stroke in a very odd place in the brain or a brain tumor. Amy is only 38, this can't be happening. They both were earth-shattering to me, so I wasn't sure which one was better to hope for. I felt like I was in a movie when they zoom in on the central character while panning out at the same time. It just couldn't be real. We lost our Mama 3 years earlier to cancer. Both of our fathers had passed away as well. (We are half-sisters, but grew up together and often forget we are not full-blooded sisters. We have the most wonderful man for a Step-father, Paul, who has been there with us since I was 3 and Amy was 6. I have often wished I was his blood daughter, but I know he couldn't love me any more than he already does. I am his daughter.)

When they came to take her for the MRI, and I asked the doctor to please knock her out for it. She had a migraine and I knew the pounding sound would just be torturous. After the MRI, she was resting and I was able to make a few phone calls. I called Paul and Olivia to tell them of the news we were waiting on, my husband Alex, and our only other family member in town, my cousin Kris. Plus her cellphone had been ringing off the hook all morning from her customers who were concerned. When Amy woke up, she thought she would be able to go home or at the least go outside and smoke a cigarette. Ha! I told her sorry, she would be in the hospital at least over the weekend and she has smoked her last cigarette, ever. The results came back , she had 2 full blown strokes, not a mini-stroke but full strokes. They started an IV with Coumadin and other meds and then we were just waiting for a room to open up for her to be admitted.

Paul, Olivia and Kris all showed up about 6 pm right as her room was ready. By that time she had lost a lot of strength on her left side and couldn't walk or lift her left arm. So Kris said he would stay the night with her and I was finally able to go home. By this time, my boobs had become engorged because I hadn't nursed the twins all day and forgot my pump at home. It was all just surreal. How could this be happening?

She's alive? I'll kill her!

Well that Thursday, we were going to have a family discussion with Amy after Olivia got out of school. I thought I'd give her a call and just let her know Paul and I would be coming over later. She answered her phone and was able to talk, but something was definitely off. She kept talking about the phone trying to get her because it wouldn't stop ringing. The phone was just doing it to piss her off. Then she started rambling about strawberry milk. She'd spilled it on her bed and from there it just got so crazy I couldn't even follow what she was trying to tell me. I knew something wasn't right at all. But what?

Amy had just been to the ER Monday night and the doctor said it was just a migraine, but my gut was telling me something else was going on. We've always laughed that Amy is a little crazy, but this was a lot crazy. So I'm thinking I need to take her to the doctor again and looked online for a free clinic. There are about 20 in the Charlotte area, but no walk in clinics. So I see this one number that doesn't have hours listed, so I thought let me check that one out. Lo and behold, it is the personal cell phone number to the Director of all the Free Clinics in Charlotte. It was an old list and not supposed to be on the Internet at all. Well she asked what was going on with Amy, and I told her a brief history and she said get her to the ER immediately! Take her to the same one she went to on Monday, so they'll have her history. At this point I am beginning to panic inside. I keep hearing the thought in my head "immediately" and I remember thinking "do not pass go, do not collect $200". So I called Paul to let him know I was taking her to the ER and the family talk would have to wait. Olivia wouldn't be home from school for a couple of hours so I'd call him and check in with him later when I know something.

Amy's house is about 20 minutes away from mine. So I jumped in my husband's truck and took off to her house. I called her 18 times on the way. I wanted her to know I was coming and to get ready, plus I realized since I took Alex's truck I didn't have her house keys with me. 18 calls and she never answered once. I was really starting to panic! What if something really bad has already happened and she's dead. I'm thinking maybe she had an aneurysm or something. So I pull up to her townhouse, which is in a bad part of town, but all that she can afford. I pull up and see the front door wide open. Now my heart completely sinks. Someone has broken in and killed her! That's why she didn't answer the phone. I am in a full out panic and afraid of what I am going to see. About a year earlier, there were a rash of robberies in her neighborhood and someone had tried to kick her front door in. Luckily about that same time, she had just rescued a stray dog and he had been there only a few days while she tried to find him a home. Well when the person tried to kick the door in, Charlie went nuts and they didn't get in, but the door is really loose and would be easy to kick open. And now she has a very protective dog!

I call out to her when I walk in, and Charlie comes running down the stairs barking and growling. Then I hear her, she upstairs in her bedroom. She's alive! She's alive? I'm going to kill her! I am going to kill her. Is she trying to scare me to death? I race upstairs, but now I'm angry! Why the hell didn't you answer your cell phone? She said it wouldn't stop ringing so she put it under the pillow on her bed. I told her her front door was wide open, and she starts telling me about the homeowners association. I'm just confused. I told her the homeowners association would not come unlock her door and leave it open. Then she goes back to the strawberry milk again. She's out and really thirsty and just wants some strawberry milk. So I tell her forget it, we are going to the ER. She thinks I'm just over-reacting and she's not going. I finally convince her after about 20 minutes and a few choice words about how she would be more sober if she were on heroin, than she is now. She says she'll go but needs to pee before first. She fell twice on the way to the bathroom, her left leg kept buckling out from beneath her. I realize I am never going to get her down those stairs on my own.

She looks down the stairs and says again I am just over-reacting and she's not going. I lost it with her. I started yelling at her, get your f***ing ass down those stairs before I drag you to the truck by your f***ing hair! That wakes her up. I am 3 years younger than her and although I have been known to cuss like a sailor at times, I've never spoken like this to her before. She starts laughing at me! She tells me I have a lot of Mama in me. So I go to reach for her arm to help her and Charlie tries to bite me. With promises of strawberry milk, I persuade her to scoot down the stairs on her butt like a 2 year old. So finally, we are off to the ER.

Amy, Amy, Amy. What to do, what to do?

So back in April my sister, Amy, called me and told me she was really sick and couldn't go out to dinner with us all. We had reservations at Kabutos for her daughter's 16th birthday. She was spray painting the Rock outside Olivia's high-school and thought she had spray paint poisoning. She called me and said she was throwing up and had the worst headache in her life. The wind kept whipping the paint back into her face. My thoughts were why in the hell did you paint into the wind and not paint the other side of the Rock? But I knew she didn't want to hear it just then. So I got online to research huffing and tried to figure out if she should go to the ER. She doesn't have insurance and can't afford it. She cleans houses for a living and doesn't even make enough to get by, but you do what you've got to do, you know? Well, everything came back about respiratory symptoms and nothing about a migraine or vomiting. So I told her to lay down, rest and take some Tylenol.

During the following week, I called her everyday to check on her. She tried to work a couple of days but just couldn't make it and had to take off. The whole time, she and I laughed that only she could get spray paint poisoning outdoors. It's typical for her. (Remind me one day to tell you about the helicopter story. It's hilarious!) I had been thinking all week something was seriously wrong, so I called Poison Control for their advice. They thought she was a teenager who had been huffing. They said there is no way she had spray paint poisoning from paint outdoors. It would have to be in a bag and breathed in intentionally. So we thought it was just a standard run of the mill migraine. But after a solid week of having a migraine without relief, she decided she should probably go to the ER. Olivia went with her since it was about 10pm. The Doctor said it had nothing to do with spray painting but it was definitely a migraine. She sent her home with Fenergan and Ibuprofen 800mg. That was a Monday night. They didn't get home until almost 3 am in the morning, so Olivia didn't go to school on Tuesday. Wednesday, I called to check on her and she had not gotten out of bed all day and didn't take Olivia to school! I'm was getting pretty ticked off by this point and thought she was just milking the situation. I could understand why she was depressed but Olivia HAD to go to school. Her only chance at paying for college is with a scholarship. I made arrangements with Paul to get Olivia to school on Thursday, just in case Amy didn't get out of bed again. Which surprise, she didn't! So Paul took Olivia to school and told her to ride the bus to his house after school and he would take her home. I planned on meeting Paul and Olivia at Amy's house to have a serious family talk with her after school. At this point it had been almost 2 weeks since she had worked and we were really worried about how she would be able to pay the rent. (Oh, Paul is our Step-Dad, Mama passed away 3 years ago) Plus bad enough as that was, we were not going to let her neglect Olivia. That is just out of character, her life revolves around Olivia. Oh Amy, what to do, what to do?