“Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you think everything’s ok and everything’s going right.” Accurate, Alanis. My pregnancy thus-far, despite needing medication to actually get pregnant, has been otherwise complication free. Knock on wood. Yet, life has a funny way of sneaking up on you…
I’m now three weeks away from my due date, which means baby can come any day — though as a first time mom I’m slightly more likely to deliver closer to my due date or after. I’m hoping baby stays in and cooks until August, even though my hands and feet would appreciate a break from the swelling and arthritic-like symptoms that being this pregnant tend to cause. I’m hopeful my body will return to normal once baby is out.
The same can’t be said for a close family member — who isn’t having a baby — but who is very ill, and whose medical condition cannot be considered stable at all. My grandmother passed away just days after my wedding, so it would make perfect sense in the story of my life for someone this close to me to be so ill precisely the weeks my first child is due to be born.
This illness is very serious and the hospital is still not sure exactly what it is, but they seem to think it might be a bacterial meningitis infection. I am shocked that it took so long for the hospital to put this patient on antibiotics given that the same patient had, just a month ago, been released from a different hospital with another infection and similar symptoms. The only difference this time is that the patient did not have a fever initially upon arriving to the hospital — which I think threw them off and led them to think the delirium was not a result of infection and instead something else.
We still do not know if the cause of this behavior is bacterial meningitis, but based on Dr. Google and their current path of testing I believe it likely is either bacterial or fungal meningitis — and my prediction is that it was possibly caused by eating slightly old deli meat (the same reason pregnant women avoid eating deli meats is why older people, especially those with compromised immune systems, should.) But, the source of said infection is irrelevant at this point. What is relevant is that this patient did not receive antibiotics immediately and while meningitis has a rather high mortality rate its effects can be minimized if antibiotics are administered immediately upon blood cultures being taken. They like to do a spinal tap first to confirm the type of infection — but in the case of this family member and other weakened health, it was impossible to do a spinal tap immediately (even once they figured out, a day later, that he had a fever now and probably has an infection) due to issues with patient’s heart. They are still working on this, and should be able to do the spinal tap today. I believe they began administering antibiotics yesterday, over 24 hours after patient first entered the hospital.
In my additional research, it is clear that the delay in administering antibiotics in the case of bacterial meningitis can be the difference between having long-term ill effects from the infection, such as brain damage, hearing loss and blindness, and having relatively minor long-term impacts from going through the infection (assuming the doctors are able to first cure the infection.)
In our country, we barely talk about aging and illness. When we do, we discuss life and death but not how death is not always so immediate. We avoid discussing human suffering and how to handle this. How to watch or know of someone close to you, who is out of their mind, being held down by restraints in order to be poked and prodded by needles in the spine, neck and elsewhere (which must feel like pure torture if you do not know what is going on) and then to know that even if life can be preserved, that the resulting life may result in a person being the shell of who they once were. And that is, by most accounts, a positive outcome of such a serious prognosis.
My hope was for this family member to be alive long enough to meet my soon-to-be child. I know it would bring this family member immense joy. Despite having a terminal illness unrelated to the infection itself (though possibly causing a weakened immune system leading up to this series of infections) I thought maybe this person would make it long enough to meet baby. I mean, I wanted this person to beat their other terminal illness, but I knew that was impossible — according to doctors who gave a diagnosis 12 years ago that this person had 2 years to live, there is no doubt the person is living on borrowed time. But, it is tragic that just weeks before my child is born, even if my family member again beats the odds and fights off this illness, this person may be “gone” mentally. For the last 48 hours, this person does not know who family members are, does not know what month it is, and does not know where they are. The person is aware of pain and suffering and anger, but not much else.
I remain mildly optimistic that this person can recover — I saw, just a month ago, the same person go through an infection and have a similar early delirium… but in that case the patient was treated quickly with antibiotics due to having a fever, and after about 24 hours that delirium went away and they returned to being their normal cranky-yet-fully-aware self. This time, it’s unclear if the person will ever mentally “return.”
And, if that is the case, how is one to mourn this loss— which is not death, but, depending on the severity of impact, may be close to it? If someone’s close relative dies, others certainly understand the mourning process. But if someone’s loved one has lost their mind, has forgotten who they are, there are no ways to talk about this in society without it seeming like TMI. We don’t know how to react to the reality of suffering that is a normal part of our lives — of aging, of our family members aging, of even children and adults who have illnesses that make us uncomfortable to discuss until they happen to us or our loved ones.
So here I am, 37 weeks pregnant, sad to know I may never see this person again, or, at least, I may not see this person come back to awareness so they can meet my child. For as bitter and stubborn as they are, I’ve been excited about that moment of them meeting, the short time they’d have together, and now I’m not sure that will ever happen. I’m not the first person in the world to suffer loss of a family member too young, nor am I in denial about how fortunate we have been to have had this much time already together, despite it being across the country, and despite visits being volatile due to other matters.
But one can’t blame me for saying the timing of this all certainly sucks. I’m trying my best to remain positive — to focus on how I’m about to meet my first (and maybe last) child — how my husband and I will very soon become parents. I await news and hope that the universe offers yet another surprise in allowing my family member to heal despite poor health, at least temporarily, and that I can introduce this person to my child in a few months, and that this person knows who I am, and who my child is.
life with interest 