September 18, 2002, I woke up as usual thinking in my head what I had to do that day. The phone rang about 9:00 am, it was my 17 year old granddaughter. She said she had called off school and taken her Dad to the ER. I was aware he had had the "flu" for the last few days, so I was in no hurry to rush to the hospital, figuring he was dehydrated. Candice (my granddaughter said he had a terrible headache). Oh well, that goes along with the flu, doesn't it?
I got to the hospital about 9:45, Candice met me and said her Dad was having a Catscan, and she was hungry. (What 17 year old isn't). Anyway, we went to get something to eat (not knowing how long a Catscan takes). On the way back, I said, "Candice, I don't feel right, please hurry." She did. We may have ran a few stop signs. When we got back to the hospital, a nurse met us, and said for us to hurry to room 1A. I went to my son's bedside, they were putting in IV's, checking BP, etc., and said "what is wrong?". He said they had found blood on his brain and was going to fly him to Rockford by helicopter. He was completely alert, but being the big teaser that he is, I said "Oh, you are kidding me". He said no and the nurse who was trying to find his veins looked at me very seriously and shook her head.
At this moment, the doctor motioned me out into the hallway. By this time, my heart was pounding. When he said "I don't know how to tell you this but direct, your son has an aneruysm and the helicopter is on the way." My knees felt like they were buckling, but I still stood.
Lights went off in my head, I went where parents go when their child is seriously ill, no matter how old they may be. My first question was will he make it? The doctor said he was stable now, but if the aneruysm bursts during the helicopter ride, all bets are off. My next question was has anyone called his wife. A wonderful male nurse was on the phone with Mike's wife (who had gone to work, not thinking he had anything but the flu), and he motioned me to pick up another phone. She was completely hysterical. I told her to calm down, Candice, very pale and shaken, left the hospital immediately to go get her mother, all thoughts of food gone now. I wondered later why I let her leave in this state.
My own brain was not working at this time, I called my #3 son, for whom I was suppose to babysit for at 11:00 and told him I wouldn't be able to babysit because I had to go to Rockford and told him about his brother. He said Mom, I am on my way. His wife was there in minutes and he was there shortly after. He had already called his 2 other brothers. They were on their way to Rockford. As soon as the helicopter crew got there, I left, no one could stop me and my family tried to, but I am very independent, stubborn, and sometimes a loner. I really thought I could beat the helicopter there. I really thought I could.
I live 53 miles from Rockford, the helicopter makes it in 22 minutes. Two of my sons are policemen, and I broke every traffic rule in the book, speeding, running stop signs, reckless driving, illegal passing, etc, etc, etc. Thank goodness, I did not get stopped, or cause an accident. I think God was riding with me on that terrible day. I know I cried and screamed all the way to Rockford. I was so hysterical, I got lost in downtown Rockford, but even with all that, I walked into the hospital 1 hour later. Does that tell you anything about my driving?
We were so lucky, Dr. Todd Alexander was on duty that terrible night. He just happens to be the best Neurosurgeon in northern Illinois, maybe in the whole state. He had done surgery on my neck 3 years prior, so I remembered him and trusted him. He drew us a diagram and told us what he was going to do. I asked what Mike's chances were and he said 50-50. He said the most dangerous part was when he cut into the skull and that it could burst at this time. It was already ruptured. He said if it burst, the ballgame was over, it was out of his hands. My heart sank.
The entire family sat in the waiting room that night. I have never been so proud of my sons in my life as on that terrible night. Mike never showed fear, although he had been told all the results that could happen. My other three sons were all supportive, encouraging, My #2 son's truck was broken into that night and when I asked him what had been taken, (he had about $4,000 worth of tools), he said "Mom, it doesn't matter, I didn't even look, don't even care, as long as Mike comes through this". I was so very proud of him. Maybe I just need to get this all off my chest.
After the surgery, the doctor came into the waiting room and we all surrounded him. He said, "he is fine and the surgery was a success, if you want to see him, they will be bringing him down the hallway in about 15 minutes". We were all elated. It was like a Dallas Christmas. Santa had come early.
After answering all our many question, Dr. Alexander said "Do you guys care if I leave now, I have been operating since 6:00 am". (It was now 1:30 am Thursday morning). That gave us a little chuckle. We told him it was okay.
We sat about 10 minutes and then everyone went to the hallway where they were bringing Mike down. I don't think it had sunk into anybody, the severity of this thing, we are an optimistic family, because when he had tubes running out of every orifice of his body, we were all quite shocked. I started to try to get up to him (motherly thing), and my son, Greg, gently took me by the arm and told me to let Brenda (his wife) in there first. Big duh for me!!!!
There were four nurses with him, and they said he came out fighting, (which we found out is very typical, because Mike has never been a fighter). Said they thought they would have to give him the old 1-2, but because Mike is such a big guy they had to give him the old 2-4. It had taken 4 nurses to hold him down after his brain had been invaded. This is quite a common reaction after a person has had brain surgery. They come out fighting - if they are alert. So, this was a good sign. The nurses laughed about it, like they were happy he came out that way. It made us feel good. We were giving him the old college cheer, "fight, Mike, fight"
We sat in the NICU for 7 days. Mike talked fine, teased the nurses, welcomed visitors, and talked endlessly. I brought him home from the hospital 10 days later, and he talked all the way home, nonstop. Like he was trying to say everything that he ever known, just to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
The endless talking has stopped, Mike is doing okay. He still has short term memory loss, is very short tempered and very tense. He cannot concentrate, and he is an engineer, so hopefully, this will subside.
The most amazing thing to me is that he remembers hardly nothing about his hospital stay. I thought he was alert and fine. We have so much to learn about these aneurysms. They are a terrible thing. I don't understand why the doctors say they are not hereditary, but they do "run in families". To me, that is the same thing. I am encouraging all my sons to get tested. They also said Mike was probably born with this. Is this something I gave him? We are still young with this aneurysm thing. In fact, my family has just learned how to spell it, but I have so many questions.
There is no end to this story, but hopefully, it will be a happy one. And I think it will with the support and all the good signs we have had from Mike's condition.
Mike is walking every day. He is still short tempered, tired, nauseated and has headaches (scale of 1-10, it's only a 2-3), so not bad. My family still needs emotional support. Michael has prayer groups from St. Patrick's Catholic Church in Dixon and the Baptist Church in Dixon to the churches in southern Illinois, and I think it has helped. I hope you will all pray for us to come out of this thing in one piece. Thanks.