Dedication

Dedicated to Intensive Care nurses everywhere

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

(VI) Long Night's Journey - Part one









A ‘strange loop’ had deposited us back where we came in - awaiting major surgery to clip a burst aneurysm.  During almost two weeks, Carolie had been operated on, had a near death experience from asystolic arrest and been put in deep coma, all the while battling oedema, high blood and intra-cranial pressure, weakened breathing and clinicians making terrifying pronouncements over her.  

 For me this was the worst case of déjà vu imaginable – a similar operating schedule; a desperate wait into the late evening for a surgeon’s call; desperate angst over my love’s bad luck.  The labyrinth was toying with us.  There was no simple exit or easy transit to rehabilitation; no celebratory news for friends and family - just a wild ride and a faint glimmer of hope for survival.

The line between fear, hope and grief blurred.  My lover, my friend, my confidante – was hanging on by a thread. Portents of terrible damage or death were writ large in various prognostications along the way.  Fear was a constant - after a while, I lost the sense of what being without fear was like.  It wells up and falls away like a restless sea. 

I fell back on coping mechanisms such as a few yoga exercises at night, chanting internally and a couple of strong drinks before sleep.  Abject despair lurked at the back of consciousness.  Grief bubbled up alongside hope - grief for the growing possibility of loss of love and friendship, shared memories, career potentialities and other future life possibilities - hope that some semblance of a life together was salvageable. 

All our plans for the future had been illusory.  In the event she survived, quality of life was uncertain, the degree of physical and cognitive damage unknown and potential for recovery unpredictable. My thoughts swirled around these painful scenarios.

Around midnight I received the news.  The new clip was in situ and doing its job; she was in post-surgical recovery.  There was no elation this time round, just a determined relief at another major hurdle jumped.   




The journey had not finished with us by a long shot – my wife remained in coma, her prognosis was unclear, the extent of brain damage was unknown; her response to treatment was uncertain; and her will to fight under intense examination.  I wrote to friends,

            Carolie has been in an induced coma for a week and a half after a series of BP & ICP problems.  She had a 2nd operation on Friday, which was successful.  The coma drug was stopped on Monday but takes a long time to leave the body. She is stable and we hope she will surface over the next few days. We have no idea how much damage has been wrought by all these events and wait with fear and trepidation.  She has some major hurdles yet. I'll let you know when I have some good news.

Defying all expert predictions, the coma dragged on interminably. A range of specialists canvassed a spectrum of possible scenarios with me, none of which eventuated.  Weeks after the Thio left her system she remained in deep coma.  Each prognostication left me grasping at straws.  No one made any sense to me on the subject of when and how and if she would awake.

To be continued...

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