Crystal Hennin
It took 4 days. 4 days until I was on the brink of death. What I thought was maybe just the flu -despite my flu shot. Covid-yet I was testing negative. But it was a strange pain in my upper left lung. A sharp pain. I wondered if I was having a heart attack. A trip to the local emergency department yielded little. A mild pain killer, prednisone. A simple X-ray of my lungs would have shown that my left lung was developing an abscess. That my lungs were filling up with infection. 4 days before I was back to local hospital. Quickly rushed to St. Mary’s in Kitchener where there was nothing they could do. My family barely saw me before I was airlifted to Hamilton General. When they did, I was prone on my stomach. My sister, a very experienced OT, knew what that meant. I was already on a ventilator. Yet I was still very hypoxic. There was one chance…. ECMO.
I don’t remember the next several days. I was in a very deep medically induced coma. Completely paralyzed for those days. But my family was given a grim prognosis.Only when they removed the ECMO line, did they start to back off sedation. I can’t remember the thoracic surgeon’s name who did the ECMO surgery. I remember a Dr. Mo the ECMO fellow (I think that was his name). My nurse Tawnya who was beyond amazing to me, but also very kind and helpful to my family.. Her caring and patience will never be forgotten. And the respiratory therapist who would wake me during my sedation breaks with that calm but strong voice. I don’t remember your name but I was happy to hear you and see your face above mine. I can’t say I was happy with you when you put that vent back on! And to Dr. Alison. My brother and sister loved her. She was “a boss” for sure. An expert, a leader, but also so down-to-earth and patient with my family. I finally woke up and just watching her for a few hours, I felt like I was in good hands because she was a lady who took charge! I’m sorry that I can’t remember the names of all the other professionals-the nurse the first night I was out of the coma. The cleaning staff who commented how dedicated my family was. The OT who was so kind. The upbeat and always positive PT who made sure I got in that sit-stand and I stood up for a whole 20 seconds the 2nd day I was awake. And the countless other nurses and healthcare professionals in that ICU unit at the General.
My family would have loved for me to stay in that ICU, but after 10 days, that bed needed to be for someone sicker than me. So off I went to the ICU at St. Mary’s again for a week. Then the respiratory floor after surgery to fix a collapsed lung. For a week, I didn’t sleep. I had serious ICU delirium. Pretty sure I was hallucinating. The stories are quite funny now, but at the time-not so much. Then on to Freeport to rehab. I said two weeks I wanted to spend in rehab. And it was 2 weeks. And I was home. 6 weeks isn’t a long time to come back from that close call. The doctors and nurses gave me a fighting chance. My very loving, caring, knowledgeable family who are also all health professionals-trauma and OR nurse, occupational therapist, kinesiologist. But that knowledge wasn’t the only thing they gave me. My Dad gave me his wisdom having survived two heart attacks. It was he who I called when I was ready to give up. My sister who fought for me from home and the daily calls to reassure and give her advice to my sister and brother who were with me in the hospital. My nieces and nephews-the best reason to fight to come back. Beau’s painting was the first thing I noticed in my hospital room in Hamilton. My OT sister… while she was not calm, she always stayed calm in front of me. In my less sedated days after ECMO was removed, the sound of her voice calmed me as she is also “a boss” (kind of like Dr. Alison). I knew everything was OK and handled when I heard her voice. And my brother… I think you were the one whose voice I heard telling me to fight. And fight I did! I heard you and kept thinking that you were coming to get me out of wherever I was. But you were lending me your strength to do it myself. It wasn’t my time. There was only the will to fight back.
That was February of 2023. I was one of the few to successfully undergo ECMO after the Covid years. In 7 months I was back to work as a primary school teacher. The abscess continued to heal and within a year, my respirology tests were all within normal range. My respirologist finally said “no more CAT scans”. Only a very little bit of scar tissue remains in my lungs. I thank the team at Hamilton General, and all the healthcare professionals (including my family doc who has been my doctor since I was a kid. She was watching my case very closely. This is not normal for all GP’s. Mary Jo-you are a special one).
All of you gave me a chance to fight and come back. I will always be eternally grateful.