On Monday, May 26th, I got word that Edy was in a serious car accident Sunday night. His car was hit and rolled, he was thrown... He was in surgery...
My heart stopped for a minute. Edy has been a part of my life for over 22 years... Milton had no information when I called him because he and Mirna, Edy's sister, were in Chicago on business. Their sons, Victor and Alex, were with Edy's wife, Vilma, and their two children, Luis and Diana.
I asked Liz if she wanted to go... but he was doing fine..
Edy did well in surgery and the segmental fracture of his tib-fib was repaired with two plates and four screws. He was awake and joking- Liz told me he was doing well according to Luis.
I relaxed and worked through the week, until I got a call from Liz on Thursday- Luis said Edy was much worse, needed surgery again, it was bad.
I checked in with Milton via text as he was in the ICU and could not take my call. Edy had a perforated bowel and had developed peritonitis and was now septic... They had to leave his abdomen open after his emergency surgery early in the morning... He was in critical condition.... the next 24 hours...
His last message terrified me, " It would be good if Liz can come"
Holy good mother of God... Edy might be dying...
There were no flights that night, not out of Cincinnati, not out of Dayton, not out of Louisville or Indianapolis. .. We would need to drive down, so I called Liz and told her to pack a bag. I called Connie to ask her to watch John, as he had two more days of school. I called my boss and for the first time, I felt my strength giving way to my terror. I described what was going on and Brett was amazing and kind. I called my friends in Florida to find a place to stay...
I have amazing friends who helped me in a hundred different ways. My cats were fed, my son was taken to school for his last few days, I had a bed to sleep in… I was surrounded by kindness.
I went home, took John to Connie, and Liz and I left our house at 6:45pm, heading south. I prayed Edy would still be alive when we got there. Drive time without stopping was nearly seventeen hours. I was a woman on a mission.
I drove through till 4am, stopping only once for gas. Liz took over and drove till just passed 6am... she suggested we sleep, but my fear motivated me to push on. I drove till 10:30 and then Liz did the final stretch to the hospital.
Milton and Luis met us in the lobby, and the kids went upstairs to the ICU waiting room while Milton filled me in. Mirthala, Edy’s mom and Olga, her sister, had come from Guatemala. Don Mario, Edy’s dad, could not bring himself to come and see his son in such a state. His brother Mario also stayed behind.
Edy remained the SICU in critical condition. He was in a medically induced coma. He has 6 fractured ribs, 3 hairline fractures in his pelvis, and a broken scapula in addition to his repaired tib-fib.... They will operate on him again in the morning but don't think they will be able to close him until the next surgery which would likely be Monday. And we discuss the worst case scenario… What would happen if the worst happens.
"Can I go in and see him?"
"Of course..."
Edy was swollen, both in his face and his arms and hands. His bowel repair is opened and being irrigated, he has nasal suction hooked up. He had greyed in the over ten years since I had last seen him. Milton only stayed with me briefly at the bedside... and then I sit with Edy, and I am overwhelmed. He has so much wrong with him. I am numb with grief and exhaustion and beg God for his life.
I whisper to him, begging him to fight... begging him to live.
Then I checked his machines and vital signs... the nurse in me objectively assessing... Pulse elevated in the 120s, BP stable, O2 sat at 97 on the vent with 50% O2... He was on medication to keep his BP up, has an arterial line, getting antibiotics via central line for sepsis, Fentanyl for pain, propofol to keep him under…
He was young... strong...
I meet Mirna in the hallway, and tell her what I saw when I was with him. She asks me, simply, if it is possible for Edy to live. I tell her he will need more surgery... it will be a long recovery... but yes- I believe he can live. We embrace and she cries.
And I pray he does live. I just can't imagine my life without him as a part of it.
I leave Liz with her family and crash with my friends, sleeping at long last till Mirna calls me late in the night to ask about the nasal drain.
How hard this all is when you are not medical... How scary...
I am asleep again in moments and sleep till morning. I check in when I get up- surgery went so well that they were able to close his abdomen... He was back in the SICU. I return to the hospital and Mirna asks me to sit with him- she does not want him to be alone but is too emotional to stay in the room. It is too frightening for her.
Sitting beside him, my hand over his swollen hand, I am numb, exhausted, and still afraid. The nurse, Lee, updates me. Edy has pneumonia- the antibiotics he is already on will cover him, but it is a complication- more work for his body to do to heal. They have started him on Lasix to reduce his swelling and potassium to keep his electrolytes balanced as they pull off all that fluid. He is unchanged. Every day he is unchanged is a day he is not worse. Lee points out that if he remains stable he could be extubated Monday.
Please God, when you answer my prayer, please say he can live...
I sit with Mirna and Milton and give them the update. We talk about the last time I was in Florida with all of them- could it really be 11 years ago?
I get to know Edy’s children. They are such good kind young adults. They have exams and are studying and Liz helps them- they are family and it is lovely to see.
Vilma asks me to go back to explain what one of the bells was. It is his Propofol and it is out. I mention to Lee, his nurse, that the propofol is out- she can’t get the pump to run as it senses the air in the line and goes to get a flush, but Edy is waking up and is afraid/confused- Vilma whispers to him but he is coming off the bed and pulling on his restraints, his blood pressure soaring. I stand beside Vilma, I tell him where he is, what is going on and order him not to pull and struggle, that he has a tube in to help him breathe and a big wound on his belly… I am loud, direct, firm and he hears me, I am sure, and finally a bolus of propofol settles him down. Lee thanks me for helping out and I head back to the waiting area.
His strength is a good thing, I remind myself. I update the family and Milton and I start talking about the last time I was in Saltan- 1998. How I was there for nearly three weeks but never met Vilma… How all the men thought I was there to be with Edy… The kids came in as I was telling the story of Edy not wanting to tell Liz she couldn’t ride the cow like her Uncle Mario… And about when I lived in Saltan as a Peace Corps Volunteer... how I was not supposed to visit Quiche as a volunteer and didn’t know Pachalum was in Quiche… All the old stories…
Luis was surprised- he thought I knew Edy from here in the US, but I reminded him- his dad was already married when he came here. That Liz was older than him. How I had met him as a baby…
Later I went back in to see Edy and the rehab doctor said Edy would likely be unable to weight bear on his left leg for three to four months- but Respiratory gave us some good news- if Edy’s vitals stayed good overnight and he continued to take breaths above what the vent was doing, they could try to extubate him the next day.
It was a long day and I was ready to sleep when I got back to my room.
Sunday came and I was back at the hospital- As it was the weekend, we were unsure when they would try to extubate Edy, and I warned Mirna and Milton that it could be hard to watch, so Vilma, who had stayed overnight, along with Victor, went home to rest and I promised to be at bedside for the CPAP test.
Lightening the sedation, Edy was responsive and okay for the first half hour, and acknowledged me and indicated he wanted to see Vilma. The test was going well- he was breathing on his own.
But as they stopped his pain meds as well, he became increasingly agitated. He wanted the tube out and was in tremendous pain. I kept reminding him it would only be a little longer…
It was horrible to watch…
The pain became too much and even with me there to calm him, his pulse and blood pressure soared, and his nurse Bridget had to restart the sedation and turn the ventilator on again. I asked her how long they would wait before traching him…
“5 to 7 days. They don’t wait too long here.”
It was already day 4.
It was the first time since my arrival that I felt true despair. After telling the family they would try again the next day, I tried to get the trach out of my mind. When I got back to my room, I laid down and cried out the tears I had swallowed all day long.
Monday is Diana’s birthday- her quinceañera- she is 15. The family will have cake at the house, and come later in the day. Vilma and I will be at Edy’s side for the test, and Mirna and Mirthala wait in the waiting area.
The CPAP test is different today. Lee, his nurse, continued his pain meds, and it made all the difference. That and Vilma, holding his gaze. The extubation is as smooth as I have ever seen- night and day compared to yesterday. The arterial line is also removed and he is put on a nasal cannula.
He looks from me to Vilma, back to me, and again to Vilma- I smile and tell him I have met his wife, that we are now good friends. I ask if I should leave and he shakes his head no. Vilma then asks if he wants to be alone with me, and again he shakes his head no.
“Hombres son asi” I tell Vilma, and Edy shakes his head annoyed, to indicate I am wrong. I remind him to try and cough and tell Vilma I will let the others know the tube is out.
When I tell Mirna, together we cry- What a gift for Diana! Mirthala joins us and I urge her to go see her son, as Mirna and I let everyone know the tube is finally out.
His first words, “Tengo hambre”
I have never known him to miss a meal, God love him!
I am at Edy’s bedside the next day sneaking him small sips of water- he is still NPO but has the nasal drain so I feel okay breaking the rule- it will only suck out any water he swallows anyway. The Orthopedic surgeon comes to check on Edy, and I ask about 3 months of no weight bearing- he tells me that while he will not be able to walk without assistance for three months, he will absolutely weight-bear, the sooner the better. Edy is ready to get up right then, but I tell him he needs to wait for the PT order.
Such amazing good news. Such a good day. And for the first time since the Wednesday night he went septic, everyone went home to sleep.
On Wednesday, Mirna, Vilma and I leave the hospital to go out and have amazing Cuban food. I am leaving in the morning and they thank me. When we are alone, Vilma confides that she did not know me in Saltan because the people talk about everything, and I tell her I understand. We talk about Glenda- she did not know Glenda and Edy were novios before he met me. She confides that she thinks Glenda messaged Edy’s phone- it was an unknown NY number… I tell her she should message back that he died, and together we laugh.
I say goodbye to Olga and Mirthala, and go in to Edy to say goodbye. I tell him to listen to the nurses and do what the doctors say. To take care of his high blood pressure and his diabetes… He promises. I tell him I will miss him…
Liz is staying for the next week. She will keep me posted. I head for home, grateful for my miracle. God is good.
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