Ding…Ding

Ding, ding, ding…
The sound of a telemetry box ringing. Someone’s pulse ox is low, or the monitor has picked up an irregular heartbeat. Another one of my weirdly favorite hospital sounds is when an IV finishes. It starts with a friendly little beep and then gets louder… and louder… until it’s basically screaming at you while you sit there waiting for a nurse to come reset it.

Nights are the worst.
You hear the raw cries of loved ones, a patient moaning in pain, and at least once a night the overhead announcement: “Code blue, code blue, every available person report to room 322.” I remember Googling the meaning once and then asking an RN to confirm. It means someone has coded and the team is actively trying to save their life. I picture CPR, someone shouting “clear,” the whole scene straight out of a medical drama… except this is real. And every time I hear it, I can’t help but think: What if this was my mom’s room?

I’ve been hearing these sounds since February 10, 2019 the day my mom fell ill.
She didn’t have a fever or cough. Instead, she slipped in her hallway and broke her back. Not exactly a typical way to break a bone, but of course nothing about that day was typical. Her spine had become fragile, riddled with tumors. The break was pathological caused by cancer quietly eating away at her bones.

Those first few days were horrific.
Doctors initially told me she had a mass in her brain and cancer throughout her body. They practically sealed her fate right there on the first floor. Luckily, someone with more sense stepped in and said they needed more time to review tests and scans before making any final diagnosis. About two weeks later, she was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma.

Also oh, shiny bike!
I know, I know. I have ADD, so reading this is probably a fun little ride of back and forth, like a giant swing that just won’t sit still. But that’s how my mind remembers it chaotic, emotional, and constantly distracted by the next wave of fear or hope. More later….