CHAPTER TWO
CONFUSION AND CALAMITY
Psalm 69: 1
“Save me, O
God! For the waters have come up to my
neck.”
The winter of 2009 was spent in
Michigan. We took time buying furniture,
decorating the condo, making some improvements and enjoying new friends. We left in late April 2010, anxious to return
to the daffodils and tulips I had planted on our Canadian property.
A few weeks after we arrived in
Canada, I started experiencing periods of unexplained fatigue and
depression. I rested, pushed myself to
garden, and tried to figure what was wrong.
As a nurse, (I was a graduate of Columbia University- Presbyterian
Hospital School of Nursing), I constantly attempted to self-diagnose myself.
Finally, in early June, I was
planting some marigolds in the garden when I suddenly fell over from my
kneeling position onto the ground and could not get up. Dick immediately came to my side to help
me. But I did not want to leave that
spot until the marigolds were planted.
Wasn’t that more important than my physical condition? I thought so.
About a week later, I was taking a
bath in our upstairs whirlpool tub. I
did not have the strength to get out of the tub. Dick heard my calls and came to help me. Something definitely was wrong with me but I
could not figure it out.
In mid June our daughter, Diana,
arrived from Michigan with her family for their vacation days. We were excited to see them and I struggled
to get off the bed and greet them. I sat
on the porch, stood up to welcome them, then retreated to the bedroom. Diana told me later that I looked awful and
she knew I was not well.
The next morning I had difficulty
walking and suddenly realized I could not hold a pen in my right hand. With family persuasion I phoned my doctor in
Watertown, NY. I was crying when Elaine,
the nurse, responded to my call. Elaine,
who I had known for years, told me, “Get down here to Watertown Hospital ER
immediately. Please Janet, don’t delay.”
When we arrived at the hospital I
was very weak. Dick found a wheelchair
and I was ushered in to the ER admitting nurse.
I remember crying throughout the interview process. I was feeling so miserable and I just wanted
someone to say, “We know what the problem is and we’ll fix it.” I entered the ER, got into a bed and waited
for directions. Presently I was told I
was to undergo an MRI. That procedure
was comfortable and I was returned to my space in the ER.
Very soon I recognized my doctor
coming down the hall toward me with a paper in his hand. He had a look of compassion on his face but
also communicated that he was about to share with me something very grave. He told me the MRI showed some suspicious
fluid in my thalamus. He was sending me
directly to Upstate Medical Center in Syracuse by ambulance. The thalamus?
Where was that? And what did
‘suspicious fluid’ mean?
I remember that ride. Noisy, bumpy, weaving in and out of
traffic. But we arrived safely and I was
immediately admitted to the Syracuse hospital.
At that point I had no idea where Dick was.
Actually, Dick had returned to
Canada, picked up some extra clothes, phoned Glenn, our son, to tell him he
would be spending a few days with him in Manlius, New York (just outside
Syracuse) because I was in the hospital.
Diana drove to Syracuse with him.
While Diana stayed at Glenn and
Stephanie’s that week she opened up Carepages so that our family and friends
would be informed of my illness. Our
friends were concerned and immediately started active prayer chains.
The family was shocked. I was always the picture of health and energy
and no one could believe I was seriously ill.
At that moment I was not aware of the gravity of my physical
condition. I was admitted to the
neurological floor for observation. The
nursing staff was wonderful.
Since I had trouble walking, I
took it upon myself to get out of my hospital bed and walk the halls myself,
holding on to the wall railing with my left hand. My right hand and arm were useless. I knew that one had to keep moving to avoid
muscle deterioration. The physical
therapist spotted me and brought me a walker to assist me. No one wanted me to
fall. I was beginning to experience some
concern because I felt my body weakening and losing coordination. But I was determined to help myself and not
give up.
At this point in my
hospitalization I was being evaluated.
The doctors were not certain of my diagnosis. They were looking at three possibilities. Either I had a stroke, Lyme disease in the
brain or cancer in the brain. I had
another MRI and three spinal tests, but nothing appeared conclusive for an
accurate diagnosis. One of the doctors I
met was a renowned brain surgeon, who suggested a brain biopsy, which would
accurately determine the diagnosis. He
stated he himself would carefully examine the biopsy findings. He gave me the satisfaction that his expertise
would be trustworthy.
At the end of June, Diana’s
husband, Dave, and their boys Danny and Will, drove from Canada to Syracuse to
pick up Diana to return to Michigan.
About this time Carin and her family arrived in Canada for their
vacation days. Carin’s husband, Kurt,
immediately drove Carin to Watertown, NY where Glenn picked her up to take her
to Syracuse. Both Carin and Diana plus
our daughter Beth, who lived in the Adirondacks, and our son Glenn were very
upset and wondered what was going on with me and my health.
The testing and the evaluation
continued. The spinals were not painful
but I had to remain on my back for hours after each spinal to prevent horrific
spinal headaches.
I remember I had just returned to
my room from the second spinal when our son-in-law, Kurt and the children,
Jacob, Hannah, and Jared came to visit me and pick up our daughter Carin so
they could return to Michigan. I hated
lying on my back and complained bitterly.
I later realized this was not a good example for Carin’s kids.
Carin told me that their family
would take our beloved chocolate lab back to Michigan with them. Since they already owned a chocolate lab,
Becca, who was actually Bonnie’s cousin, I knew our dog would be well cared
for. Of course, at this point I still
thought I would resume my normal life very soon.
It was now the end of June and the
brain surgeon was scheduled to take a week’s vacation through the Fourth of
July weekend. The remaining staff
doctors decided to discharge me from the hospital with no procedure planned.
I did wonder what was going
on. Had they given up on me? Why did they discharge me when I was in
deteriorating health? No answers and the
doctors didn’t seem to know what to do with me.
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