Better Place to Be

Where to start... I guess start with the here and now. That would be the easiest. Going back in time to where it all started would take longer than one post. I am sure that I will eventually go back and take a look at what has brought me to this point. For now, I give you the here and now.

My name is Stephanie, and I just turned 37 years old. Thanksgiving was Thursday, and I have to admit it was the best Thanksgiving I have ever had. Why why Thanksgiving so amazing? Well, that is a long long story. At the moment, Thanksgiving seems so far away.

My husband, Mike, is in ICU at the VA hospital here in town. He is quite a bit older than me at almost 53. But that has nothing to do with why he is in ICU. Just wanted to give you a taste of Mike. We have been married going on 4 years; we have been together for 5 years now.

Anyway, Mike is in ICU because he attempted suicide. At the moment it is just "attempted", and by God's good grace, it will just be an attempted suicide. Right now, it is touch and go. But I am writing this because he did attempt suicide. With all the resources available online, I haven't been able to find a forum or group that was able to offer the support I need.

Let me tell you how this all started...

Friday, Mike and I woke up both in rather agitated moods. MSG is a nasty additive and we have almost completely cut MSG out of our diet. But on Thanksgiving, I made gravy that had MSG in it. This is a HUGE no-no, and I should have known better. My thoughts were that we could live with just one dish with MSG. Wrong.

So Friday both of us were agitated - side effect of MSG. We had a little spat for us. Nothing too serious, and then we went to our separate corners (separate rooms), and I went to sleep hoping to sleep off some of the MSG effects after downing my enormous glass of water.

About 2 hours later I woke up for some reason. I am a hard sleeper. When I sleep, I can (and have) sleep through an earthquake. But I awoke, and just felt something was wrong. So I checked on the cats and dog. Nope, everything normal there. Then I went into the master bedroom where Mike was. I heard him violently vomiting in the bathroom. I was still pissy, but this concerned me because he never vomited. Honestly, I have never heard vomiting quite like this. It was bad.

Well, he laid down and for the next 30 minutes, I checked on him and he was napping. I woke him up to check on him and he said he was ok but he couldn't keep anything down. Now, Mike is diabetic. So I didn't think that was good coupled with the fact he was drinking gallons of water at a time and complaining of thirst. I took him blood sugar to see what it was and it registered as "HI".

After a call to the VA, I bundled him into the car, and together we made it to the VA about 30 minutes from home. The VA was relatively empty - thank goodness. He was the only one in the ER, and he was seen instantly.

They hooked him up to a monitor, took an EKG (I think that is what the heart test is called), and took hooked him up to an IV to get blood and administer liquids. The doctor first noticed that his blood pressure was low at about 90/60, and that his saturation level was about 87% on average. But over the course of about 30 minutes, his blood pressure continued to drop.

Kindly, the doctor asked to speak with him alone. Then the doctor said Mike needed admitted to ICU because he took many of his blood pressure pills. I was shocked to say the least, but it didn't look to serious... he was talking but groggy. He would be ok, right? The doctor said that there are many ways of killing yourself, and refusing treatment over the course of 3 years is one way of slowly killing yourself when the conditions you do have are completely treatable.

I was shocked and in tears.

Well, I drove home numbly. I was completely numb. I was shaking and it wouldn't stop.When I got home I went looking for my anxiety pills. Our pill cabinet was empty. No, the bottles were on the counter... they were ALL empty. Pain pills, anxiety medicine, allergy medicine, vitamins, supplements, everything. Close to 400 pills were just gone.

I called the ICU, and I told them... they said they were pumping his stomach as we spoke. They asked my permission to start doing medical procedures because he was in a coma and not capable of making these decisions on his own. His blood pressure was still dropping. Now, it was at 48/20. His blood sugar was over 1000 (the doctor said it was the highest he had ever seen). His saturation levels were below 60 and dropping. Now realize, this is with the medication and treatment they had him on already.

They wanted my permission to ventilate him. They put him in a medically induced coma and ventilated him. The doctor told me to contact family or friends that would want to say goodbye to him. I was losing my husband. He was falling further and further away.

I went to see him... I was in tears and trying so hard to stay composed. He had over a dozen drips. Tubes coming out of every vein and orifice of his body. The only way he would breath is when the ventilator breathed for him. He was cool to the touch. I tried to cover him the best I could, but the blankets got in the way of the various lines. He had an IV going directly into his heart to stabilize his blood pressure. He had tubes down his throat and stuff going in and stuff coming out.

At this point, I was told his chances of survival were minimal. Of course, they did not say that exactly, but what they did say meant the same thing. His blood pressure was not rising, and his blood sugar was still rising to close to 1200.

I stayed with him as long as I could, and the doctors and nurses were extremely kind. Often, I felt I was in the way, but they did their best to make me feel I was not getting in the way.

After I got home, I called family and friends. I asked my grandmother, mom, and best friend to have their prayer groups pray for him. I posted online for prayers. This battle was now between Mike and God. I needed Mike to fight for his life, but I needed God to fight for him too and show mercy.

This Sunday morning, I called the hospital to check on his condition. I visit in the morning and the evening, but I call every hour. They said that during the night, his blood pressure started rising and that his blood sugar was coming down. His blood pressure was consistently 115/62; his blood sugar was down to 375. All of his body was functioning as it should including his kidneys.

The nurse said it was nothing short of a miracle.

I honestly believe prayer helped, and God showed mercy. Thank you. Thank you.

But now, I am stuck in a conundrum. I am angry and hurt. I feel responsible. What if I had not been so snippy? What if I had been there? How could he do this to me? I hurt. I want to rush in and hold him when he wakes up in the next day to tell him I am there for him, but I also want to throttle him and tell him how much this hurts. I am torn between love and pain.

There is a lot of healing that has to happen on both parts.

So that is my story of the day. Partially written to act as a personal diary, and partially to let anyone who happens across this "diary" that they are not alone. In the future, I am going to track the process of healing in an attempt to remember.