I've wondered for a while now how I'd react if my mum came to me in pain and asked me to call an ambulance. Would I panic? Would I hesitate to pick up the phone, or follow any of my mother's instructions? Would I stammer on the phone? Would I just lose my shit? I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out.
I have since found out :P
Monday night, 4 am. I was just messing around on my computer, playing games with online friends overseas (my sleep's all out of whack), when I heard my mum get up. As she slowly walked towards my room, she said "Call an ambulance", mentioning how it was getting difficult for her to breathe. I was obviously worried, but I didn't freak out—I just left my computer, went to the phone, and dialled 000. My mum sat down on the lounge as I made the call, and she had her hand over her upper chest, very aware of her breathing. The operator said 'Police, fire or ambulance?' and I asked for the ambulance. As they patched me through, I kept my eye on my mum to make sure nothing sudden happened while my attention was elsewhere.
After being connected, they asked me for our address and phone number, then what the problem was. We went through a bunch of questions about my mum's history, and they told me to stay with her as we waited for the ambulance, which was on its way. They also said to call back if the problem worsened. My mum said it was starting to hurt when she breathed, so I called them back to tell them that. Thankfully, that wasn't a critical development, so they just reassured me that the ambulance was on its way—according to them, it was about to turn into our street.
I tried to think of everything that I'd need to do to prepare for their arrival: turning the outside lights on, unlocking the door, keeping watch out the front to know when they arrived and to indicate to them that they'd found the right place. I bounced between my mother and the front door, checking on her and then on the ambulance. I heard no sirens and saw no flashing lights, not for a while. I was getting more and more concerned, but still remained confident they'd get here eventually. Mum's condition hadn't changed during this time.
They then rang the phone and said "We're out the front, but there's a fence and a gate with a padlock." Our house has neither a front fence nor any padlocked gate :P I did actually know where they were—they were on the street right behind ours, near a chain link fence I have to walk past to get to uni—but those streets don't have similar names, so how they got lost I don't know. Surely, if the street you're on has a different name to the one you were told to go to, you'd assume you're at the wrong house. My mother's life was in the hands of people who couldn't read a map :P I should also mention that the people who called to tell us where the ambulance was asked if I could "get [my] wife to go out the front and let [them] in". My wife? Since when did I sound old enough to be married? o.O
They quickly came round to the right place, though. They brought bags of supplies and small equipment inside to where my mum was seated. The paramedics weren't rushing, so while I was certainly tense, I wasn't worried that what my mum was going through was going to kill her or do significant long-term harm. The paramedics took out a breathing apparatus and put it around her face, then they started to ask her more questions about how she was feeling and her medical history. When asked if my mum had any lung problems, she said she had emphysema. I was like "Oh noes... that's that disease they talk about in the government ads about what smoking does to you... hhhheeeeyyy, she told me she had a life threatening disease, but not that it was fuckin' emphysema! >.<" The more you know :P
I watched them administer things and keep asking her more questions, wondering if they'd just patch her up and leave or if she'd have to go to hospital. My mum looked at me as though she was about to cry, reaching for my hand so she could hold it. Those ads I mentioned earlier where they're all like "Don't smoke; it's bad" and they show people in hospital with masks on 'em and tubes coming out of 'em, they're nothing compared to seeing someone in front of you looking at you as if to say "I'm so sorry you had to witness this." At this stage, I didn't really know if it was the emphysema causing all this to happen, but it was my best guess.
They asked if I wanted to come up to the hospital with my mum or come up later on, and I decided to go in the ambulance. I didn't want to hold them up, so I just went in my pyjamas, grabbing my phone, wallet and keys on the way out. I went up to the bed they'd put my mum in, and I held her hand again just before they put the bed in the back of the ambulance. I wondered if they'd stop me from doing that cos it might fuck with her heart rate or mess with the equipment (you never know, right?), but there wasn't a problem. I got in the front passenger seat and the driver talked to me a little while we went. He asked if I was on school holidays—I'm like "...I'm on uni holidays..." On the phone, I'm old enough to be married; in the flesh, I'm not even old enough to be out of high school. What the fuck is going on here :P I told the driver how while I did know my mum had issues with her lungs, I didn't know she had emphysema; he said that it wouldn't have made much difference either way because the disease takes its toll whether you're informed of its name & symptoms or not. And he's right: it's not gonna wait there all like "Has she told him yet? Does he know we're here? Maybe I should remind her again... I think he should know before we start on her, I really do."
We got to the hospital and they took us inside. I stood there in my pyjamas, waiting to be taken to another room or something. Given that I've appeared on stage in numbers including a rastafarian, a diaper, and pink pants with a matching fairy hat, pyjamas is nothin', so that wasn't bothering me at all. Even the fact my mum was here wasn't getting to me too much. She wasn't in a critical condition, they weren't rushing her from place to place—there was no sense of urgency whatsoever, so while it was tense, I was still calm.
We finally went to casualty, where a nurse spoke to my mum and asked her some questions. They were really dumb questions: 'Where are you?' 'What day is it?' 'What year is it?' I'm like "...does emphysema induce amnesia or something?" Makes me wanna admit myself to hospital just so when they ask those questions, I can be all like "It's 2097, and I'm in a realm beyond the fourth dimension. Computers are people, and people are robots. Ninjas are also robots. Corporations are the big smiley in the sky. LICK MY LOLLIPOP for your destiny awaits! And when Jesus returns, hair will be combed and Maltesers will be had, HAD I say! :D".
That's something else I wanna quickly mention: the hospital, as morbid a place as it can be, is a great place for comic material. I told my mum a few jokes during the ordeal, and that kept her smiley. Even the nurses had a dark sense of humour—one of them asked for a mucus sample, and asked mum to 'hock up a big one, a big yellowey-greeney one, all icky and congested'. They'd have to have that kind of attitude to work in that place, though. I was anxious to write material down, hoping I could turn my phone back on, having turned it off before I got in the ambulance in case it messed with the equipment. Apparently, you can have your phone on in the hospital now, so once I found that out, I turned that sucker on and typed like I've never typed before :P
They hooked up some more things to my mum (heart rate monitor, nasal cannula), and they drew some blood. Early on, they took her for a test of some kind, but that was over fairly quickly. The worst of it was over at that point, so I just waited with my mum for a few hours, getting her cups of water to prevent her legs from cramping, as well as talking to her to keep her company. I eventually had to go home to lock the house up properly (I'd left a window open and neglected to turn the alarm on... oops :P), get changed into daytime clothes, and to have some noms. I walked home cos I didn't feel like calling a cab—for a guy who looks
fourteen and has the voice of a middle aged man, walking home from the
hospital in thongs and pyjamas, I was getting relatively few funny
looks. Thanks, local peeps, for not being judgemental assholes :) I packed my laptop and my iPod too so I wouldn't be totally bored if my mum decided to take a nap, and so I could get some writing done.
I took a cab back and went back to my mum in casualty. She looked a little better, the pain having subsided a little. She could manage breathing without the nasal cannula, which was a good improvement; and she'd also had some tests and x-rays done. I was wondering at this point how long she'd have to stay here, hoping she wouldn't have to stay overnight, for both our sakes (though I did bring chargers for my stuff, you know, in case of a real emergency), but we didn't know when the tests would be analysed.
Another nurse came over to draw more blood. She was super cute and looked heaps like the girlfriend of a friend of mine, but that's... besides the point >.> (she was probably a few years my elder anyway by the look of her :P). She had to draw blood three times, twice from my mum's arteries, which is extremely painful. It later turned out they never needed to draw that blood. Damn it, cute nurse, you didn't sound silly when you came over and spoke to us, so what the fuck, man >.<
My mum tried to get some sleep, but she kept getting cramps in her feet. I couldn't tell you how many times I got up to refill mum's little styrofoam cup with water, but it didn't make too much difference (she actually started to feel sick from having too much water :P). I managed to get a fair bit of writing done (wrote my monologue for the RAW comedy competition, yyyaaayyy ^_^), and listened to some George Carlin to ease my tension (his bit on the Ronald Reagan administration and the right wing never fails to make me chuckle).
I eventually had to go home again to get some sleep, cos I was dead tired after being up for so long. I walked home (which did nothing but wake me up... stupid idea :P), took off all my clothes (summer in this country... uuuggghhh) and collapsed on my bed. Had a few hours sleep, then had a phone call interrupt my slumber. Thankfully, it was my mum saying she'd been discharged, meaning she'd just need me to bring up some clothes and shoes for her to wear home. I walked back (again, moronic decision given how fucking hot it was -_-), mum got ready, and we caught a cab home. It was finally over.
I think I handled the whole thing pretty well. I never panicked, I never lost control, and I didn't crumble under the pressure—I just did what needed to be done. I'll have to remember to lock all the windows and turn the alarm on next time (which hopefully won't happen :P), but that's no biggie. My mum's gonna prepare a bag with some basic supplies such that if this does happen again, I just go get that bag, get my things, and get in the ambulance. Now that it's happened, it won't be difficult to go through it again, but watching my mum in such distress will never be comfortable.
It also means the ambulance people should have less trouble finding our house next time :P
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