The Unexpected

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 15^th, 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 15^th and May 16^th 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 22^nd 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 19^th.  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