Habari,
 |
| Mama and Me |
Well folks, here I am again apologizing for a break in
blogs. But, once again I have a good
reason. On the morning of May 15th,
my brother rang my phone at 6:38am. When
I first heard his voice, I knew something was wrong, but I assumed it was with
one of our elderly relatives. As he was
explaining to me what was wrong, I had no idea who he was talking about. I was half sleep and he kept referring to the
person as ‘She.’
It wasn’t until he said, ‘they put her into a medically
induced coma,’ that I realized he may be talking about our mother. I bolted up in the bed and said, “Are you
talking about Mom?” He confirmed that he was definitely talking about our
mother. It wasn’t until then that I captured
the details of what happened. Apparently
my mom had an allergic reaction to something that caused her lip to swell, then
her throat and lungs. The doctors were
forced to put her into a coma to slow things down and gain control of the
situation.
After I had a minor meltdown, my brother told me he would
call me and let me know if I needed to come home. LOL.
I’m sorry; but didn’t he just tell me that my mother was in a coma? I got up out of the bed and started looking
for the first flight leaving Nairobi. I
found a KLM flight that was leaving that night.
I still had to wait an entire day before leaving. I sent a message to my team and my manager
letting them know that I wouldn’t be in that day. I packed my bag and informed my driver Brian
that I wouldn’t be going to work, but needed to get to the airport that
evening.
My mind was an absolute mess the entire day while I
waited. I got numerous emails and text
messages from my team and other colleagues with prayers and well wishes. I
couldn’t talk to anyone because every time I said, ‘coma,’ I would
breakdown. The idea of my mother being
intubated and placed in a coma, brought images to my mind that I wasn’t ready
to deal with. All I kept saying was,
‘I’m not ready.’ Three members of my team (Kangai, Ciiku and Mutiu) came to my
apartment to see me off. Kangai and
Ciiku accompanied me to the airport along with Brian. I was thankful for the prayers, hugs and warm
wishes. I left Nairobi scared to death
about what I would find when I got home.
May 15th and May 16th were the longest
days of my life to date. You see, it
took me 25 hours to get home. The plane
flew from Nairobi to Amsterdam then to Atlanta and then home to
Philadelphia. The layover in Amsterdam
was a short hour and a half, but the Atlanta layover was three hours, which
seemed more painful since I was already on American soil. While in Amsterdam, I was temporarily held in
security because my trip hadn’t reached the system yet. When the security officer asked me when I had
purchased my ticket, I hesitated because I had to think about it. I had already travelled over night and was a
little disoriented. When I saw that his
line of questioning was going to become more intense, I blurted out that my
mother was in a coma and I was trying to get home. It was the first time I had said the word
‘coma’ since I left Nairobi and my eyes immediately teared up. The poor man was taken aback and quickly took
me over to the customer service desk and cleared me to board the plane. I didn’t feel any embarrassment about the
incident at all. I just got myself
together and got on the plane.
When I arrived at my seat, I saw that God was going to
continue to test me, because I was in the second seat of a 4-seat row, between
a very large man and a basketball player.
WTH. The basketball player and I
got real cozy since I was trying to escape the large man and he needed to
stretch his legs by sharing my legroom.
Sorry girls, although he was very cute, there was no love
connection. He reminded me of my nephew
Greg (plus he couldn’t have been more than 22) and I found myself talking to
him like I was his mother. SMH. The 9
hour trip from Amsterdam to Atlanta was very entertaining, to say the
least.
By the time I had reached Atlanta, I had been traveling for
20 hours and I was exhausted. I did
receive good news from my brother once I landed. The doctors were taking my mother out of the
coma. They were able to stop the
swelling, but she was still not breathing on her own. By the time my layover in Atlanta was over,
she was off the ventilator and breathing on her own. My brother’s message made things sound so
good. I boarded the plane for the last
leg of my trip in good spirits.
By the time I got to the hospital, everyone in ICU was
expecting my arrival. I was completely
exhausted, but anxious to lay eyes on my mom.
When I walked into her room, I was a little shocked by what I saw. The woman in front of me didn’t look exactly
like my mother. The lower portion of her
face was swollen and she was clearly still under the influence of the
drugs. I looked at my brother and said,
“This doesn’t look better to me!”
She was completely out of it and wasn’t quite sure it was
me. My brother assured me that she was
much worse. He then proceeded to show me
pictures!! WTH. Men…I will never understand them. My other brothers and uncle found time to
take pictures of my mother during this whole ordeal. I will not horrify you by including them in
the blog but believe me, they took several. SMH.
After getting something to eat with my brother while the
doctors examined my mother, we came back to spend time with her. The one good thing about ICU is that you can
stay with the patients all hours of the day and night except for the hour
that the doctors do examinations. I sat
with my mom after my brother left. She
was in and out of consciousness and I found out later she didn’t remember any
of the time we spent or the day after. LOL.
Over the next couple of days, my mom regained her strength
and I was able to take her home that Sunday.
It turns out that a medication that my mother had been taking for years,
Accupril (also known as Quinapril) caused this near fatal reaction. The drug is used to treat hypertension and
heart failure. Although the doctors told
us about the possible side effects of this drug, no one mentioned that the
reaction could happen after 10 days or 10 years of using it. AND, Accupril, which is an ACE inhibitor, has
a higher incident of angioedema in black people. That should be plastered
on every piece of paper concerning this drug.
I was thoroughly disgusted after hearing this, but these are the risk
the drug companies are willing to take.
SMH. It’s a shame. The message is that we have to be very
vigilant when it comes to the medications of our parents and ourselves. I felt I had a good grasp of my mother’s
medications, but I didn’t know this.
Well, you live and you learn.
I returned to Nairobi on the 22nd of May. It was a world wind week and it took my body
awhile to adjust. Many of you know I had
been looking for an opportunity to extend my time in Kenya for another
year. After this incident, I decided not
to look for anything after my current assignment ends. So, I will be returning to the States
permanently on July 19th. The
celebration of my departure has already begun.
I will write about that next time.
Asante Sana,
Della Rochelle
Copyright © 2013 by Della Rochelle Williams
