Everything will be OK in the end....

I am writing this in a haze. 

I have so much pent up anxiety, fear, anger, and sorrow.

The emotion isn't from lack of warmth, support, prayers and concern from loved ones embracing my family.

It is from my own doing.

I have a hard time sharing my grief in a way that will let people in to help.

I'm not a lone soldier, yet my soul tells me this is my lone fight.

My shaken body is telling me that I need to get my emotions out on paper my blog diary to release the yesterday, so that I can deal with today and tomorrow.

We have admitted Jax back to a mental treatment center.

On 12/12/12 at exactly 12:00 pm, 

I signed authority to ambush my son into the psych unit.

I won't go into detail as to the current events that led up to the repetitive drastic measure, but I can tell you that it is out of love and concern for 

Jax, River, society, and especially Randy and I.

It's amazing how you think you would lay down your life for your child, until your life becomes threatened and you choose to love yourself more........ for survival.

Jax is doing ok, and I go in and out of hope for any kind of long term recovery.

Randy and I ache to have him home and can't bear the pain of even walking into his empty bedroom.

We also have moments of feeling relieved and comforted that Jax is in a safe environment and we have peace in our home.

There have been meetings with psychiatrists, psychologists and psych psych psych doctors up the ass!

Yesterday was a day of some life changing decisions.

While Randy and I were waiting for our appointment, with yet another psych doctor, Randy started having what we thought was a panic attack.

The anguish that we have endured is taking it's toll.

After the meeting, Randy went back to work not feeling well.

Last night, he was dizzy, disoriented, ashy skin coloring, and couldn't eat or carry on a conversation.  He said his heart was still feeling weird.

I kept a close eye on him through the night, and he woke this morning feeling unrested and weak.

I drove him to urgent care at their 8 am opening.

[I should have taken him in last night! What was I thinking?]

They immediately were concerned about his high blood pressure [ 158/118] and hooked him up to the EKG machine.

Once the report was printed, Randy was placed in a wheel chair and walked quickly to the emergency room.

His heart had been in atrial fibrillation for the last 20 hours.

The E.R. staff gave him a medicine intravenously hoping it would put his heart in a normal rhythm.   

His heart rate was bouncing from 110 to 178 in seconds.

The medicine didn't take effect.

The doctor sat at Randy's bedside and explained the next procedure.

It would be to sedate him, and shock his heart.

If this didn't work, they would have a call placed to the nearest cardiology center and have him immediately transported. The doctor said that because Randy had been in a-fib for so long, the end outcome would probably be a ride to the emergency cardiologist.

But in a "cross your fingers" effort, we will try this defibrillator process and hope there hasn't been too much damage already done.

[OH!! You know I have to get a picture of everything!!!

Documentation!!!]

The array of gooey stickers that they placed on his body was overload.

We prepared for his sedation, and he was the calmest I've seen in such nervous circumstances.

[What did it matter at this point?  He had already been poked 5 times because of veins that kept exploding.  He handled it well for a 'needle-weenie']

He was ready to do what  it took to make himself feel better.

The nurse gave him the "Micheal Jackson" drug, and within four seconds I heard him say,

"Wow!  I feel great!  This is better than bourbon!"

I gave a chuckle, and listened for the  E.R. team to ready their position to push the defibrillator button.

What I was NOT prepared for, was  to hear Randy's body bounce and his deep voice yell "OWWWWWWW!!!"

I rushed in asking , "WTF?!?!? Is he not sedated?"

The doctor heard my panic and told me that the procedure is very painful, and Randy's reaction is normal, 

but he won't remember any of it.

I was invited to stay in the room during the 'Shock wave' but I am now glad I didn't.

At the last minute, I backed out.

The sound of Randy's body convulsing in pain was more than I could bear,

 let a lone, to have the visual burned into my memory.

Life raced through my every being.

An overwhelming pain of acknowledgment came across me......

a heart can truly break due to emotional pain.

I thought of friends and family who have lost their spouses.

In that moment, I grieved for them.

I was dramatically and internally, preparing for my own grief.

I don't know how the spirit makes it through such emptiness of future living.

I was bitch slapped out of my selfishness of  'woe is me' within 10 minutes..

The entire medicated high/shock process from start to finish was 10 minutes!

It worked!!

It worked!!

He was back to a natural rhythm and his blood pressure had dropped to normal.

As he awoke in a drugged state of mind, he said,

"ahhhh, I feel GREAT!!!!  

I haven't felt this goooooood in soooooo long!!!

I just love you!"

The doctor asked him, "are you telling your wife you love her?"

Randy was still high and replied,

 "no....I'm telling ALL of you!!!  

IIIIIIII 

LOOOOOOOOVE 

YOOOOOOOU!!!!!"

He had mucho love spread to the entire room!

He remembers NONE of it!!!

Zilch!

The relief was felt by all in the room, that he was able to bounce back without further drastic measures.

[I say that sarcastically, because being voltage shocked into life is a pretty BIG drastic measure in itself!]

After an hour of stability, they released Randy with medication and gave instructions for him to get into a cardiac specialist within 5 days.

As we were driving home, I looked at my sore chested, tired husband and said,

"Is this a dream?  Did you just get your heart shocked back to life and then sent home?"

Randy weakly replied, "Yep.  And I can't even comprehend it all right now."

I brought my man home, laid him comfortably on the couch, and watched as he drifted into a peaceful, lowered heart rate sleep.

Thank you for all of your love, prayers, and energy sent to our family.

We needed it in a BIG way.

I will leave you with a quote that I took notice of yesterday:

"Everything will be OK in the end.....

If it's not OK, then it's not the end."