Day 3 and 4

Wednesday Feb 12, I came into the ICU at 6:30 am, not wanting to miss the doctors. I had still been waiting to see the neurologist and talk to her. All kinds of tests were done. EEG, EKG, ultrasounds on arteries and veins, and blood work, along with yet another CT scan. No one could tell us for a certainty this was a stroke. None of the signs pointed to it. He does not have high blood pressure, no heart disease, arteries and veins all clear. EEG showed no signs of continued seizure activity. NOTHING to indicate that he was at high risk for stroke.

Scott has always been a big guy. This is the only thing I can emphatically say is the reason they thought it was a stroke. But being overweight is not enough to declare that one has had a stroke. Why would they not do an MRI? Why were they just continuing to say this when all signs were pointing to something else? No one would say. I was extremely frustrated.

But there I was, 6:30am on a Wednesday. I came into the room, and sat quietly and waited for Scott to wake up. He had been up already for more tests and they were finally letting him sleep. His nurse had had him up walking already, to see if he was able to come off bed rest. He was exhausted to say the least. No one gets good rest in an ICU. Not only are you hooked up with cords going every which way, machines beeping and buzzing, but every hour at least someone is coming to take vitals and ask if you need anything.

As I sat alone in the dark room waiting for Scott to wake on his own, I wondered again, what our new life was going to be like. I mourned the loss of the old familiar routine we had. I mourned the things we might not now be able to do. I wondered how our children would be able to cope if their Dad was never the same again. I mourned for the career Scott has and would have to leave if he could not drive or climb. I began to feel a sense of real loss and lost myself for a moment in pity. I wiped away my bitter tears and decided that this wasn't about all the things I thought I was never going to have, or the things I thought I might have lost. This is about a man I love dearly. This is happening to him. I knew I needed to be strong for him, but didn't know how to do that quite yet.

About 8:30, Scott woke up. He seemed more rested than the day before. I asked him how he was feeling and he said, "Fine. Let's get out of here." I looked at him again. Really stared into his eyes and at his face. He looked back with the familiar look I've come to know and love. I asked him if he knew where he was. "Yeah. I'm in the freaking hospital in Cheyenne. Who took my clothes? I want to go home!" I began to cry tears of joy. Scott literally woke up. My Scott. It was him. No gibberish, no disorientation. I hugged him so tight. I couldn't stop the tears because I was so grateful he had come back to me. For the first time in 3 days, I felt that there was finally some hope that all would be well.

He was discharged that afternoon and came home from ICU. That rarely happens. Usually a patient is discharged to the floor where they are monitored for a period of time before going home. But they really had no reason to keep him and he made it very clear that he wanted out of there. So they graciously complied with his request. Making sure to let us know that it would then be our responsibility to make an appointment for the MRI as soon as possible.

February 13, 2014

We were able to get in the very next day to the radiology clinic and had an MRI, angiogram and some other test I can't recall. It took at little over an hour and he was done. We left radiology and filled his prescriptions for anti-seizure medication, along with the stroke protocal meds and went home. It was good be home, but we still had zero concrete answers.

We knew he could not drive for 3 months. We knew he would continue to be unable to return to work. Everything about this just seemed so strange, wrong and unfair. What was the deal? Why had this happened? Why can't anyone tell us anything??? So frustrating. The hope was eluding us. It seemed we were just plucked out of our comfortable lives and dropped in the middle of desolation, without a map, or any survival gear. A hunter's worst nightmare.