Sunday, January 5, 2014

Wednesday, December 11, 2013 - The day my entire world changed forever.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I woke with a bad headache that day, I remember, and had to take some medicine when I got to work. About 9:30 one of my cell phones rang and I see it's Amanda. First I'm shocked that SHE would be UP at 9:30 calling me, then just happy at the thought that she wanted to call me so early. I answered saying, "Hey Baby! What are you doing up so early?" Silence...then, "Uh...is this Amanda Garrett's mother?" Instant alarm...yes, it is, who is this. It was a nurse from the hospital and I'm thinking she's been in another accident. I asked them what was going on. They said Amanda had been brought in by EMS with a possible overdose and where was I at at that moment. I told them I was at work at the Wesley Campus Ministry just 5 minutes away and would be there immediately. There was still ice on the roads so they told me to hurry but to be careful.

Tim had left earlier to WM for supplies for youth group and unbeknownst to me had left his phone as it was dead. I'm in total panic mode. I need my husband. I'm calling and calling and all I get is voice mail. Finally, knowing I need to NOT be on the phone and concentrate on the roads, I call our pastor, Dewey, to ask him to please try and get ahold of Tim and to have him meet me at the hospital asap.

I get to the hospital and of course, the one time I need to park close to get there quickly, I have to park way away and make my way through the ice-covered parking lot to the ER. Of course, when I get in there, there is NO ONE in any of the cubicles to assist. Finally, I see a lady and I burst into her office and tell her my daughter had been brought in by EMS for a possible overdose. She gets up and runs to another lady. So then I have 2 of them. Next the ER nurse comes and I have 3 of them with me. They begin walking me back to the ER when the ER doctor meets us and so there are 4 of us and I'm thinking, "this isn't good. This can't be good." I see the EMS standing behind the nurses' desk and they won't even look me in the eyes. They usher me into the next room over from Amanda, though I didn't know that at the time. They are trying to explain to me that she had been brought in by EMS for a possible overdose. That she had been found without a heartbeat and they don't know how long she had been without one. They said that the only reason EMS decided to work on her at all was because she was so young and her "body was still warm." They were able to get her heart started again but her body was very unstable. She was on life support, they said.

Finally, Tim got there and Pastor Dewey and John. I try to catch them up to speed and then we get to go to the next room and see our girl. She was in the same clothes I had seen her in the day before. There was some blood on her face but they said that was from them inserting the breathing apparatus. Her eyes were slightly open. We go to the side of her bed and just hold her hands and talk to her. I sing to her. Tim touches her feet trying to get a response. They said she'd been completely unresponsive. I remember at some point the ER doctor asks a question that Tim and I were just blown away by as we didn't understand at all...He said, "Can you think of any reason why she may have ingested windshield wiper fluid?" What the heck?? Why would ANYONE ingest that?? Why would you ask us that?? Apparently her blood was super acidic. I asked what could cause that and was told that it could be in part from however long her heart was stopped. When the heart stops pumping blood, acid builds up in the blood stream; or it could be in part from whatever she took. They said either way, in all their years of medicine, they had never seen an acid level that high.  I asked if it was meth or what? Was it heroin? They said all they knew for sure was that there were opiates and alcohol in her system. Apparently heroin is an opiate. My question now is, though, is there a way to tell if that was OLD heroin in her system, like how metabolized was it, and if they could tell what came first, alcohol or whatever else it was. I mean she had already admitted to having used it several days prior so how long does it stay in the system? Then the nagging begins in my brain about that boy threatening to kill her. Did he? Or did she just make a bad choice first to go over there at all, and then maybe to use and then accidentally overdosed? Or did something else go down? If nothing funny had been put into her heroin and if they all used the same stuff, why didn't anything happen to them, too? And supposedly, he went in to wake Amanda up at 8 a.m. and found her that way. The guy has no job. Usually if you are partying at someone's house and they are in a separate bedroom, you are just gonna let them sleep it off and then they go home later. Was there a reason he went in to check on her?

We talked to the detective and police who also said that it looked like Ryan had tried to clean up the scene before calling for help. They found hypodermic needles and alcohol bottles in the trash. Erica, according to Amanda, had been a 10-year heroin user. They had a little boy but didn't have custody of him because of their lifestyle.

Anyway, John and Dewey stay with us off and on throughout the day. More people from church came. My dad came. I asked at one point why her pupils were so big, was it from whatever they gave her to get her heart started? Is it from the drugs? What is it? "That's brain damage," they said. They kept pumping her with this bicarb stuff to try and bring her blood acid level down, but it kept going back up. I remember they gave her a less than 1% chance of surviving just based on how acidic her body was and just based on what they'd seen and her lack of responsiveness, even IF she survived that, she would likely be a vegetable the rest of her life. Trying to process this and refusing to believe she is going to die, I asked them when we could do an EEG on her then. Oh...not for about 2 days. !!!!???!!! Her body was getting cold. They had to put her under a blanket thing that kept very warm water flowing through it. I remember her fingernails were bluish. We would talk to her, cry, pray, and sing. I remember telling her that if she could fight this, then to fight it and come back to us, but if she couldn't, then to run to Jesus. Just run to Jesus, baby.

They talked about the quickest way to get her blood acid under control was to do dialysis. Okay, so do dialysis...oh, but we can't, she's not stable enough. I remember at one point, she began to crash and we had to get out of there so they could work on her. The machines were doing all they could and they were doing all they could, but at one point we were told that we should probably just gather the family and say goodbye.

Finally a neurologist came in and they sent us out. He did an EEG and multiple other neurologic tests, including putting ice cold water in the ear which, if there is any brain activity, SHOULD register something as it is supposed to be extremely painful. He came in afterwards (around 8 p.m.) and said very matter of factly, that he did this and that and no response. There was no frontal brain activity and more importantly no back brain activity whatsoever and oh, by the way, "I pronounced her brain dead at 7:39 p.m." I was stunned. I couldn't breathe. I'm looking around the room at all of the people there just hoping someone could tell me this wasn't true. What he said after that, I will never forget...He said, "I'm very sorry for your loss but she chose this path for her life." I'm sorry but how the hell does HE know if she chose this? It wasn't suicide, of that we are certain. Yes, she clearly made an unwise decision to go over there that day, but her whole life was a struggle. She had bipolar. She was searching for acceptance and ways to help ease her internal pain. Maybe she chose to do the heroin that night. I have no idea and honestly, neither does HE. The only ones who know what happened that night are Amanda, Ryan, Erica, and God.
We go back into her room afterwards. We are crushed. In disbelief. We know what he said, but we had just had such beautiful days with her and how can this be??? I had just spent the day with her the day before singing and laughing and talking and holding hands and being silly. I got to tell her how much we love her and how there was never anything she could ever, ever do that would make us not love her or go to the ends of the earth for her. I remember her saying, "That's what Daddy said the other day!" So how? why? Noooooooo baby! Why??????

We talked about donating her organs. Luckily it wasn't something that we had to guess at; she was a registered organ donor. A team came in from Oklahoma City and arrived around 1 a.m. They set to work doing whatever testing they have to do. Tim and I had to go with a lady, Karen (who ironically was from Lancaster and went to AV High), and do a bunch of questions/paperwork. A while later, the team came in and said because of how acidic her blood was, it had made her whole body toxic, so donating organs was out of the question, but there was still a slight chance for tissue. They even got their medical examiner on the phone trying to see if there was anything else they could try to be able to honor our wishes in some way. Unfortunately, there was not. We had hoped something positive could come out of her death for at least one other person, hopefully many. Now that hope was gone, too.

All we had left was to decide to disconnect her from life support. We had been in touch with Michael, of course, all throughout the day. He was devastated and in disbelief and shock like us all. We had gotten him a flight to come out the next day. He had wanted to see her before they did anything permanent with her. We talked to the organ donor team and the hospital staff. They said that even with all they were doing, she was so unstable that she would not last until 2 p.m. the next day when Mike would arrive in Durant. I was actually glad that Mike would not get to see her like that. It is an image that Tim and I cannot get out of our minds. That is not how we would want anyone to remember her. Tim and I had to go in and ask them to go ahead and disconnect her machines. We, in faith, knew where she was and that she was whole and healed and no more bipolar, that she was better than we, based on her decision for Christ years ago and her baptism. But how do you let your child go?
They stopped her respirator and fairly quickly her oxygen level dropped to zero. But her heart...her heart kept right on beating. But she is brain dead? How can that be?? And it would raise up, then go down some, level out, then raise some more, level out and hold there for a while, and then go down a little. On and on this went. Tim and I are just telling her over and over how much we love her and will miss her. Finally, I'm thinking that somehow she can still hear us and doesn't want to leave us, either, but I tell her it's okay to let go, to go be with Jesus, that it's okay. Shortly after that, her heart stopped, 4:13 a.m. they pronounced that her heart had stopped beating and her body was finished. And even then, how do you leave your baby? How?? We are so broken. We know God didn't cause this but was there to welcome her into heaven. We know we live in this broken world and that where she is, she has no more struggles like she had here. She is free. But we are broken, crushed, devastated, and in shock. How did this happen? Oh my God. My baby is gone?! How do I NOT be her Mom? She can be a pain in the butt, but she was OUR pain in the butt. I remember telling her at one point earlier that I didn't even care if she woke up and cussed me out about something, at least she would be there and I'd hear her voice. Now all I have is a voicemail she sent me and some videos that she's posted of her singing or being silly, and that big, beautiful, wonderful, full-of-life laugh. At least I have that.

Tim and I clung to each other for a while in her room and then we knew we had to leave. We went back to the Wesley for a while, not wanting to be around anyone but each other. We cried. We couldn't eat. We couldn't sleep. We just lay there in utter disbelief and pain like I have never, ever felt before. Even when my mom died, and I have had pain over that for years. It's different when it's your child. I felt robbed of all of the years we should have still had with her, being able to see her on the other side of her struggles, but I guess we will one day, just not the way we had thought. We would never get to see how far she could go with her life if she applied herself. We would never get to see her fall in love and be loved in return. Tim would never get to walk her down the aisle or dance with her at her wedding. She would never get to make us grandparents. We would never get another text or call from her. She would never make me laugh like no one else could...or make me mad like no one else could. I would never be able to hold her hand again or hear her sing. I miss her singing so much. I would never get another hug from her this side of heaven. I miss every single thing about my baby, even the stuff that made me crazy before. I would take all of it back. Every single thing, and yet, knowing how broken she was here and how whole she is there, would I really want to have her back here?? I just hate having to be away from her at all. We chose to have her cremated and Tim is going to make her urn, in the shape of an owl, and we are going to keep her with us and have her buried with us. I think of those last 5 days that God allowed us to have with her. What a gift they were. He knew what was going to happen, and while part of me wonders why the heck he didn't stop it, I have to be thankful for those days and that she is in heaven where I know I'll be with her again. She was SO happy in those days, so open and loving, and we were just eating up being able to have that time together, so together is where her final resting place is going to be, with her Mama and Daddy.

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