Barbara recounts a time when her little brother, Johnny, nearly died, and the fear she felt that day.
It all started when my younger brother, Johnny, had a seizure. He was then eight, and it was a day we'd never forget.
Johnny has several serious medical problems, and he has had to live with going to doctors, going into the hospital, or having problems crop up unexpectedly since he was little. He has muscular dystrophy and is in a wheelchair, and he also has problems seeing and hearing.
He also has epilepsy, which causes him to have seizures, or convulsions, where he'll unexpectedly cry out and then slump to the floor, where he'll then lie stiff and still for a few seconds, then he will start to shaking all over, like a dog that's been struck by a car. Sometimes he'll turn blue in the face and stop breathing, or he may lose control of his bowels or bladder when he has a seizure, and it can be a very scary thing to see. Usually one of his seizures lasts anywhere from one to five minutes, tops, but sometimes they'll go on for longer period of time, and this is when we usually have to call for an ambulance.
On this particular day, Johnny was acting like his usual, normal self: that was, he was at his computer, playing one of his games, when we heard him emit a loud, strangled cry, and then saw him go stiff in his wheelchair. Mom went over quickly to him, quickly shut off his computer, and got him out of his wheelchair and lay him onto the floor, on his side. She knew that he was about to have a seizure, so she knew exactly what to do. At first, Johnny lay there, stiff and unmoving, bu then he started twitching; and soon he was jerking all over, as he went into a full-fledged seizure. She pushed his wheelchair out of the way and moved him to a spot free from any obstacles, so he wouldn't injure himself during the course of his seizure. Johnny was making funny, gasping, grunting noises, and his face was all blue; and it scared us to see him like this; but this is what happens whenever he has a seizure. His body was now writhing uncrontrollably, and his hands were clenched into small fists.
We figured that his seizure would be over soon, but when five minutes ticked by, and we saw that there was no letup in his seizure, mom instinctively knew that something was seriously wrong; so she had me dial for the paramedics.
Less than five minutes later, we heard the ambulance pull into our drive, and then the paramedics shouting and banging on our front door; and I never was so glad to see them in my life! I took them to where Johnny was (in his bedroom, on the floor); he was still convulsing, and by now, his face was nearly black. Suddenly, without warning, he threw up, and he started choking on his own vomit.
The paramedics immediately sprang into action. They went to work by suctioning my little brother and trying to get an airway tube down his throat; once it was in place, they then hooked him up to an EKG monitor and the one paramedic attempted to start an I.V. (but it proved to be unsuccessful). Johnny was still convulsing, but not as hard as before: he was lapsing into unconsciousness. Soon, he went limp. He was NOT breathing.
The paramedics knew time was of the essence if Johnny was to have any chance of surviving the crisis; they started "bagging" him by attaching a rubber bag to the airway tube, so they could get oxygen to his brain and to his lungs; and they quickly got an I.V. established and quickly put him onto the gurney, strapped him into place, and quickly rolled him out of the house and into the back of the waiting ambulance that was still sitting in our driveway, its lights still going.
The paramedics, knowing that our mom is a nurse, allowed her to go into the rear of the ambulance, so she could be with my little brother; but he had daddy ride up front. Before they left, daddy told me to watch over the remaining kids, and that they would call us from the hospital once they found out what was going on with Johnny.
Meanwhile, in the rear of the ambulance, mom watched the paramedics working on Johnny. Johnny was still unconscious, and his color still looked bad. He was not responding as well as they had hoped, and mom was absolutely terrified. (So were the paramedics.)
Suddenly, Johnny threw up again, and he started choking. He was immediately suctioned, and he again was being assisted with his breathing. His chest rose and fell irratically, and the EKG was starting to look abnormal, according to mommy. It was apparent that he was a.) about to go into another seizure, or b.) stop breathing again.
For over an hour, we kids sat around, doing nothing. We didn't feel much like playing or doing our assignments because we were all so worried about Johnny. He was our little (or older, depending if the kids were younger than he) brother, and right now, he was on his way to the hospital, once again, fighting for his little life. We were worried that he was going to die--or had already done so. Each time the phone rang, I literally jumped out of my skin; I was so scared that it was mom or daddy calling us to tell us the sad news that Johnny had just died. But the calls turned out to be mostly soliciters, trying to sell us stuff, or stuff like that; or our friend, M'buti, calling to talk to mommy. (She was upset to learn that Johnny was sick and was on his way to the hospital.)
At the hospital, Johnny was immediately taken to a room in the E.R. department. He was still being assisted with his breathing, and his color was still funny. Nurses and doctors surrounded the bed, and they were working on him like angry bees. Tubes and lines were inserted, and the EKG started emitting a loud, shrill alarm, which meant that Johnny was about to "crash" again. This prompted a flurry of activity, and Johnny was now receiving lifesaving drugs and full CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation). His heart, as well as his breathing, had stopped, and Johnny was now in a dire way. Basically, he was clinically dead.
Mom and daddy were sitting in the E.R. waiting area when they heard the terrifying words: "Code Blue, E.R., Code Blue, E.R.; All help to E.R., STAT! Code Blue, pediatric code, to E.R., Room #3, STAT! All available help to E.R., Room #3, STAT!" go over the loudspeaker. At the code call, mom started crying and wringing her hands, and daddy started to pray ferverently to God, asking Him to spare their little boy's life, and not to let him die or have any brain (or other) damage.
I, thankfully, wasn't aware of all the medical drama that was going on back at the hospital--that was, until the phone rang. It was daddy, and he sounded all upset and worried.
I was scared that Johnny had died, but daddy assured us that he was still alive, but he was still receiving CPR; and the best thing we could do for him right now was to pray for him.
After I got off the phone, I told the kids that Johnny was very sick, and he needed our prayers. At the moment, he wasn't doing well, and daddy told us to pray for Johnny, w hich was exactly what we did.
The littler kids (and Jodie and Todd, too) weren't able to fully understand the situation, but what they WERE able to understand, they knew it wasn't anything good. They stared at me, their eyes huge and dark with fear, and their small faces pinched and pale from worry; but I tried my best to reassure them that Johnny was going to be okay, and we were doing the right thing by praying for him, as daddy had instructed us to do.
Ronee' knew all too well about Johnny: she had seen him go through similar things before, and she had gone through several Code Blues herself. She was especially close to Johnny, and she was really upset. She burst into tears at the news, and she was so certain that her beloved brother was going to die. I tried my best to comfort and reassure her that Johnny would be fine, but at the same time, I had a funny, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my chest ached from worry. I was scared, too, for Johnny, but I tried to put on a brave face for the littler kids, so they wouldn't have to worry more about Johnny than they were already.
It turned out that Johnny started to breathe again; but it would be at least several days before neurologists (and other doctors) knew if he suffered any permanent brain damage as a result of the seizures. He had something called "status epilepticus", which is where one seizure takes hold as soon as the previous seizure ends, with no breaks in between; and it can be life-threatening, or even deadly, if it is left untreated; and he also had an allergic reaction to one of the anticonvulsant medications he had been on; it was like poison to his delicate little system, and this was why he had reacted so badly to it. It turned out that he was in the hospital for a week, so he could be closely monitored by doctors, but in light of everything that had happened that day, Johnny survived, and miracles of miracles, he had NO lasting physical OR mental damage! He managed to survive his crisis unscathed, and he managaed to come through his alarming ambulance ride, thanks to God's Mercy and Loving Grace!
lord have mercy. such an experience, such an excellent write. your skills are improving greatly, karen. i love to read the evolution of a writer in progress. prayers and blessings to you and yours!
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It all started when my younger brother, Johnny, had a seizure. He was then eight, and it was a day we'd never forget.
