Help mom while she recovers from brain surgery

Hi my name is Jessica. Sunday morning I woke up to a call from my dad that my mom needed to go to the hospital. I didn’t know how serious it was, but from the tone in my dads voice I knew it wasn’t good. I rushed to the hospital. As soon as I stepped into her ER room, she said “Dad called you??” See my mom doesn’t call me when she’s in the hospital because she never wants me to worry, but thankfully my dad knew better. The doctors took my mom in and out of the ER room, once for an MRI and once for a CT Scan to confirm if she had a possible brain bleed.

Earlier that morning around 6:30am. my mom woke up with an excruciating headache. She couldn’t get comfortable so she went downstairs where my dad was. They figured it was just a bad migraine. He tried to make her comfortable. But shortly thereafter my mom started throwing up and convulsing, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. My dad called 911 while trying to tell her to “stay with me.” My mom came to and by the time first responders got there, they loaded her in my parents truck, and my dad was rushing her to the hospital.

Fast forward to a couple hours later back in that hospital ER room, my dad and I are talking with my mom and all of a sudden I hear a noise I’ve never heard her make and she is wincing in pain. My dad tells me to get help and I run out to the middle of the ER begging for help. Everyone runs towards her room and all I see a my mom seizing, toes curling down. I’m trying to process everything that is happening. I’m trying to hold my dad back as the doctors close her door to try and put a breathing tube down her throat. Tears are falling down my face as I continue to hold my dad back, saying, “We’ve got to let them work on her dad.” It breaks my heart because she isn’t just my world, she is my dads world and his world is crashing in front of him.

We’re asked to go to the Quiet Room. And the confusion sets in. I don’t want to go to the Quiet Room. No good news is ever delivered in the Quiet Room. We wait for what feels like an eternity. Someone comes in to bring her belongings. Another eternity passes and the doctor comes in. All I hear is “ruptured aneurysm.” He tells us they’re going to transport my mom to a bigger hospital up north and tells us to meet her there. We get in the car and rush to the hospital. The longest car ride of my life. We’re both sitting there with the radio in the background taking in what we were just told and holding onto any positive thought possible. I don’t want to break down, I have to be strong for my dad.. and for my mom.

We beat her to the hospital. Her surgeon speaks with my dad and I. I’m writing down as many of her words as I can in my phone because I know I won’t remember. She suffered a ruptured aneurysm in her brain and was bleeding. The surgeon laid everything out. First, they needed to drill a hole in her head and stick a tube in to drain the blood that was already there. Second, they needed to clip the aneurysm but this was a very unstable aneurysm. The death rate with these kinds of aneurysms she said was 40%.

We were able to see her before surgery and that image is forever stuck in my head. My mom, the beautifully sarcastic, strong willed, tough as nails, superhero of a woman was laid in the bed. Breathing tube down her throat, head shaved, heavily sedated. I broke down as I touched her leg. This can’t be real. You’re only 54 mama. It’s a week before my birthday. I’m not ready to lose you yet. That walk back to the lobby was the longest walk of my life. My granny is holding my dad up and all I can think is, this can’t be real. This is someone else’s story, not ours.

This is our story, but not the end. My mama survived the 4.5 hours surgery to clip her aneurysm. The surgeon was even able to identify a possible stroke and stop it. My mama is alive and talking, but she has a long road to recovery ahead of her. We don’t know what kind of life lies ahead for her, but we have to keep pushing forward.

She will be in the ICU for at least 2 weeks. And no telling how much longer after that. I’ve never done this before, I’ve never reached out for help before like this. But I am hoping that we can raise enough money to help cover their monthly bills so my parents don’t have to worry about anything but her recovery. Anything you donate will go towards their monthly bills (house payment, car payment, utilities, etc.). We are taking things one step at a time. If you can’t donate, would you mind sharing? Anything will help. My parents have worked so hard for what they have. We can’t control the hand we are dealt, but I know it will be okay. We just need a little help in the meantime. If you’ve made it this far, thank you. I will keep you updated.