Unfortunately, not all memorable events are pleasant. Although most people immediately think of a positive experience when asked, "What is your most memorable event?" The typical responses are happy thoughts, however; that is not the case at hand. By definition, bittersweet means both pleasant and painful; two emotions: sadness and happiness, endured at the same time. Hell with a silver lining describes it just as well, I believe.
Two weeks after my son Adyn's third birthday, my husband and I prepared for an appointment at the hospital for an EEG and MRI at the request of Adyn's Neurologist. Without a hitch, ending as quickly as it began, his EEG could not have gone better, the sedative worked as it should. Immediately following was the MRI,
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Without hesitation, the anesthesiologist administered another sedative, different from the last. My son's tiny body fell limp. My husband and I did not know at that moment, that the medication was on the brink of a lethal dose after being incorrectly administered.
Not moving and barely breathing Adyn returned back to his hospital room no more than twenty minutes later. Within minutes he began to turn blue, while his body was ice cold to the touch. In addition, his limbs extended, straight and stiff like a board, soon his eyes began to roll back into his head. Before long the alarm on the monitor was sounding. Heart rate, oxygen level and blood pressure plummeted before my eyes, beyond dangerously low. Attempting to hold him as he was incapable of flexing, I tried to warm him with a blanket and my own body
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Quietly, to myself, I begged, prayed and wished to whatever or whoever in the universe would hear me out. Without hesitation, I pleaded that I go in Adyn's place. Fully aware of the fact I physically had no control over the situation, I had to believe in something; the mind is profoundly powerful, especially when combined with a mother's love for her child.
No change in his condition had occurred. For only a moment, I stepped out to make a phone call to my mom, I had to fill her in on the situation. After a quick briefing, my husband met me on my way back to the room, excitedly exclaiming that Adyn is awake! Overwhelmed with pure relief and happiness; the emotions were intoxicating. This is what it meant to be on cloud nine. If only that feeling would have lasted.
That night, I stayed with Adyn in the hospital while he underwent a twenty-four hour EEG. The following morning I was feeling quite a bit of pain, after a trip to the bathroom it was obvious what was happening. With no chance of ceasing, my miscarriage progressed. In bed we laid well into the afternoon waiting for the doctor's release. Later that evening we arrived at home. Another surgery was out of the question, I could not handle it; physically or emotionally. For just over two days I practically lived in my bathroom, distraught with disbelief. By Monday, it was all
Put yourself in Mendoza’s position, you have been carrying your bundle of joy for 19 weeks, talking, singing, and bonding with your baby. Planning out the rest of your life, centering on your baby when suddenly, it comes to a tragic end. You no longer feel your baby twist, kick, and hiccup. You are suddenly robbed of that warm feeling. The feeling that trounces any horrible morning sickness and back pain. As if the pain of losing a child is not enough, you are bleeding, and there is no doctor available to perform the dilations and evacuations (D&E) procedure before decay begins. Labor induced delivery is suggested where you might possibly die or suffer severe damages, you are in both physical pain from bleeding, and mental pain from losing your child. How would you react? Would you ask for a D&E? Or would you induce labor and wait a few days to deliver a lifeless
He was an outpatient, who arrived at 8 am to get ready for his surgery. Feeling I was ecstatic and enthusiastic to get back into the field of work to do my clinical rotations. Although I was ready to have a new experience at the recovery unit, I was also extremely scared, because this unit was a specialized unit, where the patient needs vital care while recovering from anesthesia.
Webster CS, Merry AF, Larsson L, McGrath KA, Weller J. The frequency and nature of drug administration error during anaesthesia. Anaesth Intensive Care 2001; 29: 494-500.
“Get the doc now!” Mother shrieked. Bump, crash, bang, the stretcher carried my lifeless body down a populous hall. “Get and I-V now! Heart beats are slowing, we may need resuscitation, get me the shocks now!” “Oh my lord, no please don’t take my boy lord! Not now…” My mom snuffled. *Whimpers and cries”
I immediately rushed to the hospital to see if god had spared my Jacks. I was so confused about everything. I prayed over and over again that I wouldn’t hear the worst. My stomach was in knots, I felt like I was going to throw up at anytime. I drove with a heavy heart. If she was okay and I could get her back, I planned to redeem myself and spend the rest of my life with her. I debated whether or not I should tell her about cheating on her after the fight but I didn’t want to hurt her more. I’d have to think about it. As I walked in the building, there was a nurse in the entrance talking. I overheard her talking about a woman who was in an accident and I thought she was referring to Jackie but then she said the baby would be fine. I knew then, it wasn’t Jacks. I then approached the receptionist in hopes that she would tell me what I needed to hear.
So, I told my doctor I wanted to be induced. After all, my due date was only two weeks away and only five percent of women give birth on the day determined by their doctors. When I was finally there, I looked at the outside, the hospital was set in a suburban – like area, and when I went inside the building, I was in a welcoming ultramodern facility. I went straight to the labor and delivery section where they said my doctor had gone out of town; nobody believed that I was supposed to be induced that day. It took them like 15 minutes to confirm what I had told them, to finally decide to take me to a room to connect all kinds of tubes to my body. I went into the room; it looked very comfortable, but it was freezing. I lay on the typical hospital bed, one of those that make sleeping and resting easier.
The last hour I had spent preparing for this moment, because deep down I seemed to know that my family would never leave the hospital alive. Still, the words hit me at full force, and I feel my breathing quicken and heartbeat pick up as my eyes dart around the room. My pulse pounds in my temple as if I just ran a mile, and the doctor is trying to get me to calm down, but the room is spinning and inky blackness edges into the corner of my vision. My legs feel weak and shaky as I succumb to the horribleness of it all.
remember the first morning when I went to reposition him, he was very aggitated mouth wording leave me alone, let me die. I felt very bad, and explained the
One day that made all the other days seem to disappear. I woke up just like every other day, thinking all is well, only today is different, today is life changing. I’m a mother who has dedicated my entire life to my babies, and within a few hours, my whole life was turned upside down. My son has epilepsy, a seizure disorder that up until that day I knew nothing about. When you think of seizures, you think of thrashing around and foaming of the mouth, I sure did. For Blayk, my three year old son, yet, that was not the case. It started out that he was just quiet, which was not different from his normal disposition. A few minutes later, I noticed a spiked fever, followed by vomiting. To be honest, at this point, I didn’t think too much of his
They immediately came to her aid, and said everything was going to be okay while they injected an IV. She awoke to anesthetics burning her nostrils with the color of white blinding her. She sat up dizzily and looked at her legs covered by the bed sheet. Half of her leg wasn’t visible through the thin sheet. Her stomach dropped when she reached to feel her leg, and nothing was there. A cry pierced the room and Marley laid back on the bed with tears dripping down her cheeks. How could she go on? She wouldn’t be the same after her experience. “You’re a strong girl,’ the nurse commented as if reading my
I was never grew up to be the one with the best memory or have a gift of remembering every single detail in a story but when that memory or day is something very special, it’s sure to stay in your mind and become a part of what you could be thinking of daily. People would suspect by now that I’ve done enough things with my life and should be able to tell as if it was my favorite poem I know by heart. It’s funny though, I could never remember exactly what happened with all the vivid details and scenery. Our memories are stored in the way that we remembered them, not what really happened that day, that hour, that moment. There are plenty of memories that are of good moments, but with the good, there are some that aren’t so pleasant.
When it was Friday night, 5 friends were making their way to a haunted house. These friends were Alex, Brennen, Tommy, Gerardo, and Zeke. For some reason these kiddos thought it would be cool to make a reenactment of Paranormal Activity and bring all this equipment to hunt down ghosts and get Cheetos on the way as well. Unfortunately they didn't know where they were going they found the motel on google maps. After the Paranormal gang was prepped and had everything ready they went out to Walmart for some extra supplies. Alex was trying to persuade the group to get Cheetos, but instead they got Lays, which really ticked Alex off. Brennen and Tommy went to go get camping equipment and Zeke rolled up with a snuggie and asked for it. Gerardo, for
Later that night, my mom journeyed home with my brother who was in high school while I stayed. I became intrigued by the IV’s draped down his veiny wrists, tubes coming out of his abdomen, and this dark red bloody draining balloon dangling off the side of his white bed. Never seeing half of the medical equipment or knowing what was happening, I questioned
My grandmother rushes to his side, grabbing his hand, crying “Don’t leave me yet”. He cracks a smile at me and whispers “It’ll be ok”. We are escorted to a dimly lit waiting room, where we anxiously await the outcome of his life for the next eight hours.
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I believe that last time we spoke was in August of 2016. Wow, been that long, yet it feels like just yesterday we were laughing at each other dancing. I write to you to finally settle this once and for all because it seems to have just lingered into tension. You broke me; you caused me to forget how to love. Since the day I met you I was never the same; I became different. It started right at that party for our team when I decided to play air hockey against you; that’s where it all began. From that moment I was trapped in a prison of pain. The pain of never being enough for you; a pain of every decision I made caused disappointment in your eyes. You controlled me every action, emotion, and thought. I guess love