On February 22, 2007 at 2:30 a.m., I(kelly) am awakened by the bathroom door slamming into my shower door. I sit up with a start and turn toward the direction of the noise to see Rick collapsing to the floor! I am to him in 1 flying leap and yelling, "Rick, what is going on? What are you doing?" He tries to sit up on 1 shaky arm, eyes wild and unresponsive, and then goes down again. Of course I can't find the portable phone, who can when you need one, so I go to the land line and call my Dad next door. (It hadn't even occurred to me to use my cell phone.) In the meantime, I run back into the bedroom and he is standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I get to him, all the while trying to figure out what is happening to him, but I can not get him to respond to me! I try to move him to the bed, but his knees buckle and I go down with him to break his fall. His body starts seizing (my Dad says I am not supposed to say that because they will yank his license) but that is what happened and his breathing went weird, like a gargling sound...aka "the death rattle". Anyway, at this point I am freaking out inside, so I lay him on the ground and run to call "911". I was so shaky it took me 3 tries before I dialed the correct number. I am shaking even now as I write this blog! "911" wouldn't let me get off the phone, but Rick was in the other room and I didn't know what he is doing...she told me I could put the phone down to check on him but not to hang up. He had obviously come to again because he went from a perpendicular position with the bed to being parallel with it. His head was up against the bedside dresser and he was out cold. Finally, my Mom comes bounding in, yelling for me to call "911," and headed into my room with the blood pressure aparatus. Kendal stumbled out of her room and I am yelling at her to find the portable phone...which by the way ended up being on the dresser next to Rick. My Dad finally made it over...he doesn't move so well when he firsts gets out of bed, plus he had to go to the batheroom to boot...now you know why his nickname is "tiny tanks". About 10 or 15 minutes had now gone by and Rick was still not moving. My Dad got a systolic pressure reading of 60, when that reading is what his dystolic pressure should be. I don't understand the different readings very well, other than knowing it is really bad! He gave Rick the epinephrin, but it took 3 stabs for the medicine to release. Kendal was outside with a spotlight so the ambulance would know where to go and the dispatcher finally let me get off the phone once the ambulance was in view. I went into our room as Rick began to start coming around...of course, he immediatley struggled to get up because wanted to go to the bathroom. My poor Mom was holding his legs straight up in the air with her little body trying to keep the blood circulating thru his organs and his legs looked like death, there was no color! I hear d him say, "I'm okay, I'm okay now, I'm going to make it." It wasn't until later when I was with my mom, following the ambulance, that she told me what he had said while he was not out of it. He was saying, "No Baby Papa(this is my grandfather who passed away 5 months ago), No, I don't want to see you, I don't want to be with you yet." There is no doubt in my mind that Baby Papa was there in the room...we can all just picture him bending over Rick asking him what all the fuss was about. Rick doesn't remember it, but my parents do! The paramedics were able to move him to the ambulance once they had him stablized at a 78 systolic pressure. By the time he saw the Dr. in the ER, Rick was as honory as all get out. Lonnie turned to me and said "he is becoming high maintenance". After Rocky and Lonnie gave him a blessing, his mood did mellow a bit. By late morning, Rick was wanting to go home. A new ER Doc, one that Rick actually liked, wanted to admit him overnight, but my dad didn't think it was necessary so he got Rick released into his care. I was so mad a my Dad and Rick, that I don't think I spoke to either of them on the way home. They have no idea how traumatized I was and how scary the thought was of having him home. Rick's grandparents and his Uncle Lyle were on their way to the hospital, so they met us at the pharmacy so they could see Rick. We had a nice, emotional visit. Coincidentally, my very good friend Stacy was coming out of Long's as my dad was going in. It is amazing how people are put in places for your benefit...Stacy lives in the Bay Area and just so happended to be in the very same Long's at just the exact same time. Angels were definitely looking out for us that day! Rick is fine...we haven't gotten any tests results back yet from the bloodwork, but because his body depleated the antibodies, it may take another month or two for any allergy to show up in his bloodstream. In the meantime, he goes in next monday for a CT scan of his sinuses...his allergist says he is very obstructed and thinks surgery may be a good solution. Yeah, no more snorring! Rick's body is still recovering from this ordeal, he is tired all the time, but that may have something to do with the pint of blood he gave up for tests...who knows. I, on the other hand, am overly hyper-sensitive to any noise Rick makes, especially when he is in the bathroom! Can you blame me?!
