Every Little Breath

This is Dwayne and super-murse, Erich, yesterday at MTMC. He was getting to walk around (to help get some strength) in that crazy outfit because they thought he had MRSA. Turns out he didn't but that is a whole 'nother story.

Saturday we stayed in and watched the Derby and avoided the storms. Dwayne wasn't feeling too well and was very hot to the touch. I pulled out my handy-dandy standby remedy of two equate aspirins, a vitamin, a vitamin "c" tablet, and some Gatorade. He took that and fell asleep on the couch. I also apparently fell asleep and when I woke up it was around 2:30 and I put us in the bed.

I wake up around 6 because Dwayne is making a crazy and scary noise. I look over and his eyes are wide open and his hands are in the air, fists clenched, and he looks like he is in terrible pain. It looked like someone who was being electrocuted and couldn't let go of the thing electrocuting them. I shook him thinking maybe he was having a bad dream. Shook him and said his name again. I then realized something was indeed wrong. I started screaming his name, dialed 911, and went to his side of the bed.

His arms were at his side and he was convulsing, he spit up and still his eyes were open. The 911 operator told me to stop screaming so she could hear me and dialed an EMS operator. I gave them the address in between sobs and took deep breaths like they told me to. Repeated things when I got too upset for them to understand me. I knew in my heart that when he stopped convulsing he would be dead. I was waiting for it. After all, we've all seen it in movies and on shows, the convulsing, the spitting up, and the sudden end.

Dwayne did stop convulsing but didn't stop breathing. Instead he sounded like an animal who had just run a long way and was in need of a break. I followed the EMS instructions and pinched the inside of his arm to get a reaction. His head just rolled around, eyes wide, pupils completely dilated, staring into space. I tried the sternum rub- I dug my knuckles into his chest as hard as I could but still no response. I could feel his heart through his chest and it was racing. I begged the EMS operator to please hurry and I hung on Dwayne's every breath.

The firemen arrived first and gave him oxygen and talked to him trying to get him to wake up. There were little sounds of waking and even at one point he sat up and did a double-take at all the people standing in our bedroom but still no connection between where he was and what had happened. The EMS arrived and they continued to talk to him and ask him questions and managed to squeeze the gurney back into our room and got him ready for transport.

"I need to get up because my back hurts," were the first words he said. The EMS tried to help him get up but his knees buckled. "Whoa," he said. They helped him back onto the bed and ended up sliding him onto the gurney over the foot board. As they pushed him out of the bedroom he looked at me with a concerned look and said, "It will be OK. Don't cry." Even though he had no idea what was making me cry or really what all this commotion was, he was comforting me.

In the ambulance they asked him if he knew where he was. "Murfreesboro." That's right but where specifically? "Foothills Dr." (His parents address.) As we drove to MTMC the paramedic told me he was in a postictal state and from all indications he had had a seizure. This confusion was normal and he would be alright in a few minutes. This did not comfort me.

In the ER Dwayne began coming closer and closer to normal. An I.V. here, a push of anti-seizure meds, crying parents, insurance forms, etc. He says he doesn't remember anything except waking up in the ambulance and wondering who this guy was asking him questions he didn't have answers to.

I was on the phone will 911 for a little over 8 minutes. He was in a full blown seizure for about 4 minutes of that and it took him about 20 minutes total to become cognizant of his surroundings. We spent Sunday and Monday night in the hospital and he was released today. CT scans of his abdomen and head are clear. MRI is clear. Blood/Urine testing clear. All indications are pointing to a perfect storm of very high fever, high blood pressure, and anxiety all caused by an undiagnosed sleep apnea. The theory is that his brain was starving at 6 a.m. Sunday and went into survival mode- sending out impulses to get the oxygen it needed.

He has some more tests to do in the next couple of weeks but is expected to make a full recovery. He is very weak and is not able to drive for the next 6 months. Luckily, my employer, his employer, and my professors have been extremely flexible, helpful, and understanding. So, we are on the road to recovery. In fact, he is asleep on the couch behind me right now and I'm here and I'm still hanging on every little breath.