Gwen's Fight

On Thursday, Dec. 11, 2008, my mom, Gwen Corn was helping a student at Friona High School with a math problem when her speech began to slur. She felt dizzy and put her hands on Trevor's shoulders to steady herself. He turned around and saw that she was struggling so he sat her down and ran for help. Mom was in the midst of suffering a stroke. An ambulance transported her to Parmer County Hospital where she was given a cursory evaluation and MRI and then forwarded by life-flight to Baptist St. Anthony in Amarillo.

The doctor in Friona painted a grim picture telling my dad, Ed that she'd suffered a severe stroke and that things didn't look good from his educated standpoint. Dad drove himself, alone, to Amarillo. It was during this drive that dad contacted myself and my brother and sisters. He in turn painted an anything-but-rosy picture and said he'd get back to us as soon as he got to the hospital and had a better idea of the severity of mom's condition.

Dad's sister, Heidi Taylor who is Dean of Nursing at West Texas A&M University cast her vote for neurologist and Dr. Sean Milligan was quickly on the scene. He had a second MRI done for comparison and both this one and the previous one from Friona showed no abnormalities. Whatever it was was small. Good news under the circumstances but we were told that this was her darkest hour. Without being able to pinpoint anything his suspicion was a brain stem event. If you google 'brain stem stroke' what you'll find is that they're often fatal and at the very least severely debilitating.

As I was traveling to Amarillo the limited info I was getting over the phone was just that she was trying to speak but wasn't making much sense or even forming complete words. What sentences she was putting together were nonsensical and alluded that she thought she was still in the classroom where this all started earlier in the afternoon. We were simply told that by this stage what she had endured may not be life-threatening any longer but was definitely life-changing.

By the time I arrived at the hospital and got in to see her she was making complete sentences, still her speech was a very confused hodgepodge of present and past. It looked like she had just been roused from a deep sleep, or, if you've ever seen it, someone coming back from anasthesia. It appeared to have affected mostly her right side. Her face showed limited droopiness but was kind of slack and she was complaining of numbness around her mouth and right cheek. Her right eye was open but the left was closed, she was obviously struggling to open it and frustrated that it wouldn't. You could see her struggling to put together nearly every word but everyone in the room was amazed at the progress she'd made over the last two hours. Her sister, Tammy was shouting hallelujahs at the ceiling. I understand that these things happen every day and that this is all part of the Human experience, but nothing can prepare you for seeing your mother in a state of utter helplessness and struggling so hard against some invisible enemy. (This was our second time around since mom was diagnosed and defeated stage IV inflammatory breast cancer six years ago.)

No sleep that night for anyone but mom.

The next morning appeared to be nothing short of miraculous. I got a text from Christi, the oldest girl of our clan, at 4:45 am saying mom was "a million times better than last night". I was on my feet and back at the hospital within a few minutes and she was right. Mom was alert, speaking with reasonable clarity. The nonsence that cluttered her rational thoughts the night before seemed to be gone. She was sitting up and very proud of the fact that she was moving her right arm with muted authority. She was cracking jokes. Her eyes were opening fairly evenly. Don't get me wrong, the stroke was still very, very evident, but the change throughout the night was drastic.

We met with the doctor and he seemed very happy with the progress she was making. He announced his diagnosis of a small stroke of a part of the the 'mid-brain'. He called it a basilar ischemia. Great! When can we go home?

What He giveth He taketh away...

By noon any progress she had made overnight seemed to be diminishing...quickly. When we walked in, ready to throw a party, she couldn't speak at all. With her eyes closed she threw her functional left arm over to her right side and forced the word "numb" out of the left corner of her mouth. We called the nurse in, fearing that she might be having another stroke. She decided it'd be best to notify the doctor. A few minutes later he called back and said that if the symptoms were the same as when she arrived but not worse that there was really nothing he could do. Ughhh! Okay, but to us it looked like we were watching mom slip away. We left the room, scattered and broke down. For the first time we really saw what we were up against and it was going to be way harder on everyone, especially mom, than any of us could imagine.

Later in the afternoon she really seemed to improve though not nearly to the extent that she had earlier in the morning. I'd call it a not-so-happy medium. She seemed to stabilize and spent the rest of the evening half-resting and half-trying to converse with whoever was in the room. We left her to sleep, cautiously optimistic that she would stay this way throughout the night.

She did.

I think now that we have a very clear picture of the level of rehabilitation it's going to take to get her seaworthy again. The type of stroke she suffered doesn't effect cognitive abilities. She still thinks clearly and is quite aware of everyhthing going on around her, only some of her motor, speech and optical functions are affected. While she appeared nearly catatonic to those observing her at the time, she can clearly remember the event itself, the ambulance driver's name, the helicopter flight and everyone around her once in Amarillo. She's got to be incredibly frustrated.

We just met with Dr. Milligan who has traced the cause to a previously undiagnosed irregular heartbeat. He called in a cardiologist, Dr. Hernandez who is currently tracking down what's causing that but I think they've about got it figured out. One thing's for sure, she's got a long row to hoe before she's able to get back anywhere close to normal, but I think now we know what her starting point is.

Thank you all for your prayers and keep 'em coming! She's the strongest broad I've ever met, but she needs all the help she can get.