My mom knew she wasn't going to die from breast cancer - the horrid disease that took her own mother. I don't know how she knew, but she was right.
She had been officially sick for almost a year before the disease took her, but we all knew something was going on well before she was diagnosed. Swollen legs, ankles, and feet. Always out of breath. Not even able to walk from the car to a store or restaurant without taking a break. Stubborn like the rest of her family, she didn't go to a doctor until it was almost too late.
The Sunday before Thanksgiving my dad called me in the evening asking me to come over and talk some sense into my mom. He thought she had had a stroke, as she was lethargic, confused, and unable to speak properly, and wanted to take her to the ER, but she refused. When I got there I noticed the signs my dad mentioned and would have also guessed that she had a stroke. She had been sleeping most of the day and the previous day. She was slurring her words. She thought her potassium might be high, but she couldn't say "potassium;" she kept saying pistachio. We checked her blood sugar, as she was diabetic, but it came back normal. We couldn't convince her to go to the ER. She didn't think her condition was serious and she didn't want to make a fuss at the hospital. We reluctantly gave in and let her stay home, but told her if she was the same way in the morning we were going to the ER for sure. She agreed.
She slept on her recliner that night, as her bed was on the 2nd floor and the stairs were becoming too much for her. The next morning she couldn't get up. Was barely able to move her limbs. She decided at that point her condition was serious enough to warrant an ER trip. My dad, with his weak arms, somehow got her into the car and drove to the hospital.
They spent the entire day in triage as no rooms were available. My mom was out of it the entire time. Keith, Enora, and I came to visit. She was so much worse than the night before. Talking in her "sleep" about ponies and family members, not even able to hold a simple conversation. After some blood draws the doctors told us her kidneys were failing, her temperature was very low, and (as my mom suggested the night before) had a very high potassium level. She later had an ultrasound on her kidneys which showed nothing amiss, but they did determine she had an infection and began antibiotics. Late that evening she was finally moved to a room.
The next morning the doctors were able to give us some more information. Her kidneys were still in bad shape, however the creatinine levels were not as bad as before. They said her infection is what was causing her disorientation. She was still sleeping almost all the time - the doctors said it was as if she took four sleeping pills at once. They did a CT scan of her chest to check for clots, but found nothing. All we could do was wait for the meds to take effect.
On Wednesday, her third day in the hospital, she finally started to wake up. She remembered nothing about the past two days, which makes sense since she was asleep most of the time. Apparently she had been having a lot of headaches the previous week, and therefore took a lot of advil, which, surprise surprise, is bad for your kidneys. Her heart rate was high that day. The doctors gave her meds to slow it down and became concerned about pressure on her lungs and heart, so they ordered more xrays and ultrasounds for the next day. We weren't prepared for what those tests would show.
The doctors discovered via ultrasound that the right side of her heart was larger than the left. This meant her heart had been struggling to pump, slowly growing muscle on the problem side just as body builders do when they lift weights. Apparently this was a rare condition that only three hospitals within the 10 closest states could treat. Thankfully one of those hospitals was U of M. So, on Thanksgiving evening of 2013, she was transferred to University Hospital in Ann Arbor for treatment of pulmonary hypertension.
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