I’m writing this perched at the foot of my mom’s hospital bed. We were at church this morning and the service was just starting when she said she had to use the bathroom. She was sitting on the toilet and I was crouched on the floor in front of her, helping with her pants and shoes, when she suddenly grabbed the handrail and slumped sideways against the wall.
“Are you OK?” I asked. No response. “MOM, are you OK?!”
The third time I asked, she mumbled something unintelligible. It sounded like her mouth was full of marbles. She was leaning so far over, I was afraid she’d slide right off the toilet and hit her head. I stood in front of her, holding her arms, tried to get her to sit straight again but she kept slumping back against the wall.
I thought she might be having a stroke. I was terrified. I told her, as calmly as I could, that I needed to take her to the hospital. It was probably only a moment or two before she said, softly but clearly, “I’m OK.” It felt like hours. I asked if she thought she could stand so that I could pull her pants up. Holding onto me and the handrail, she managed to do that. I got her dressed, seated on the seat of her walker, where she slumped forward again, and rolled her out of the bathroom. Then I ducked into the sanctuary and saw the pastor’s wife standing just inside the door. “I need help!” I told her. “I have to get my mom to a hospital.”
The pastor’s wife brought two men to help, who between them were able to lift Mom’s walker down the two steps to street level. One of the men scooped Mom up like she was a little girl to put her into my car. I pulled out my phone to get directions to the nearest hospital, and my hands were shaking so much I could hardly type. I still didn’t know what had happened to my mom, and all I could think was that I was wasting valuable seconds.
Thankfully, the hospital was less than five minutes away. Miraculously, there was no line in the ER when we arrived. They took her back right away, took her vitals and history, got her into a room where she was seen by the doctor. Everything looked fine except her heart rhythm, which he described as “very slow and irregular with long pauses.” He said that would explain her fainting spell and also the periodic episodes of lightheadedness she’s been having for the last six months or so. She was admitted for observation. They are making some changes to her medication, which might correct the issue. If it doesn’t, the next step is a pacemaker.
By the time we got up to her room in the cardiac ward, she was feeling like her usual self. They brought her a lunch tray and she ate heartily. Same with dinner. She doesn’t remember anything that happened at church and keeps asking me why she’s in the hospital when she doesn’t feel sick, but she’s lucid and her voice is strong… and I am so SO thankful that it was not a stroke.
And even though she probably took five years off my life with that scare this morning, I am hopeful that getting this properly diagnosed and treated is going to improve the quality of her life – and, by extension, the quality of mine.