Even though this is Mikey's blog, it would be a horrible mistake to not set the scene by including some of the story about his amazing Mommy. It seems impossible for me, now that we're 31 days past the worst day in my life, to think about what I witnessed in the ICU where my wife laid for 23 days.
This picture is from 5 days into dealing with this nightmare - she was in total kidney failure, respiratory failure and yet totally conscious. She was trying to smile here so I could show a picture to our daughters before bringing them in so they wouldn't be as afraid of what Mommy was going through. Even in this photograph, I can see her amazing eyes, pretty smile and courage to face anything.
There's many stories about those early days when she fought for her life - with all of us just hoping that her 'toughest girl you know' spirit would be enough to overcome this wicked evil. The one that seems most important to tell is the one where she saved her own life.
On her second full night in the ICU, I finally decided that I would make everyone happy and go to my room and sleep. Pretend to, anyways. I was sitting on the bed around 3:30am when my cell phone rang. It was one of the resident doctors in the ICU, asking me to come up immediately to speak to them regarding my wife's 'deteriorating' situation. So I did what I would think of later as my own personal fire drill and threw back on the clothes nearest to me and proceed to run down the hall, up the stairs and down the hall into the double doors of the ICU. The doctor and one of the anesthesiologists had a consent form in their hands for a drug called Factor VIIa. It had been discussed earlier by her hematologist and OB and pulmonary docs as an "heroic effort" drug. Something we'd do only if there was no hope of her surviving with the supportive care they were giving her.
He handed me a printout of a drug description in "doctor-ese" explaining all of the stuff you'd expect about a drug - uses, success rates, risks, off label uses, etc. He explained that this wasn't even considered an off label use because so few people with an amniotic fluid embolism and subsequent DIC didn't live to have it used.
Alarm bells went off in my head when I asked what would become my bellwether question:
"What would you do for your wife?"
His answer:
"I don't know, I'm not in your situation"
Trust me when I say this - that's a bullshit answer. It's a doctor that doesn't have a wife, kids, or perspective on what those things would be like. Never trust a doctor that can't, in the blink of an eye, say "I'd do this, this and then that." If they hesitate, that means they don't have the guts to make big decisions or lack the experience and basis in life to be making big decisions.
So I said I needed to talk to my wife.
I went in her room at 4am and proceeded to have a conversation that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
With tears in my eyes, I touched her hand and asked her to wake up and talk to me. (she had an airtube and an NG tube in and could not speak, save for our abiility to speak in sign language).
She flipped on the light and heard me say, "Honey, they want me to give you a drug that might kill you." Without blinking an eye, she asked me if I thought she was going to die, because she didn't think so. If she could have only seen herself in a mirror! The swelling from 20 pints of blood, tons of blood products and over 36 units of fluids had already started to set in and swell her into what I called the "Michelin Man" phase.
She then asked me for the clipboard and pen. She actually wrote two words at the top of the page:
Pros Cons
Drew a line down the middle and stared at me intently to help her fill them in. We talked about the risks, I read the paper further and further and kept answering her questions. She told me she wanted a second opinion, to which I went out and had them page the attending doctors that I knew. She asked if I could transfer her to another hospital if I couldn't get good care in this hospital.
What I realized was that my soul mate was doing for me what I knew I should have been doing, but wasn't thinking straight enough to do. She was so CALM! I've never seen such bravery in the face of battle. There's no war movie that could capture the spirit and courage that I witnessed that night.
She asked me about our girls and that if she didn't make it that I would be a good father to them both, as well as our new son.
During our conversation one of the doctors that I had paged came running into the ICU (around 5am) and made sure Factor VIIa was NOT administered. He had consulted at 4 am with 6 other hematologists around the country and asked for their opinion, which was unanimous.
A combined 200 years of training and experience was matched wit for wit with a woman lying in a bed fighting for her life yet still managing to have control, dignity, honor and love.
That is the story of a woman that I'm lucky to have met, let alone kissed, married, had children with. This is just one story about her courage, strength and love. All of which she passed on to our son, who was lying one floor down, almost right underneath her very room. I have seen the same strength in both of their eyes and it humbles me, honors me and gives me the strength to see the light at the end of the tunnel our family is walking through right now.
