It was Thursday, February 15, 2018, I was rushing around getting ready for work and getting my then four year old daughter, Mary, ready to go to the babysitters, my cousins, house. Off we were for a normal productive day, then while I was driving across town to drop Mary off, I suddenly became lightheaded, my vision became distorted and I could slowly feel my face begin to droop and my left side feeling tingly. I pulled up to the sitters house and barely made it out of the car. I had my daughter go up the few front steps to knock on the door. The sitter came to the door and realized that something terrible was happening. Her husband was home from work that day, so I begged her not to call 911 and startle the children and instead drive me to the hospital, which she did. By the time we pulled up to the doors of the emergency room, my left side had gone completely numb. A nurse came rushing out with a wheelchair and took me straight back for a CT scan, then MRI. As I laid on a gurney in the emergency room, awaiting results of the scans, the babysitter was standing next to me, gently rubbing my head, and wiping my tears as I thought "This is it. This time, whatever this is, it's going to leave a mark", she kept reassuring me that all will be ok and that she had called my family. The doctor came in and they set up a computer on a cart so they could video conference in live time with the stroke team at one of the bigger hospitals in Pittsburgh. They determined that I was not having an active stroke, but the stroke team doctor recommended they do another CT scan, this time with contrast and to get my carotid arteries as well. After the scan, the stroke team was sent my results. While laying on the gurney in the ER, I could hear the announcement for the ER doctor "Stroke team line 3", I knew that call was about me and what they thought. Next thing I knew, the ER doctor walked into the room and very gently, politely explained that I needed to be transferred to Pittsburgh because they had discovered I had a tiny tear in my right carotid artery that needed to be looked at further. I was so scared, but Jayson and my oldest son comforted me. My mother and my sister live five hundred miles away, but my son told me they had booked flights and were on their way.
The ambulance, transfer, ride to Pittsburgh from Greensburg was going to be a long hour or so drive. The medics arrived to pick me up. They got me ready for transport and told me it was rainy and cold outside, so they were going to bundle me up. they wrapped me in warm blankets, secured me to the stretcher, loaded me into the back of the ambulance and we were off. The ride was one of the longest, bumpiest, scary rides to the "Burgh" I ever had. I vividly remember two things about that ride: One, the headlights of my son's car as he followed behind the ambulance in his car. Two, the medic asking me if it was fully explained to me why I was being transferred and what to expect. I told told the medic that I was really not sure what was happening and why. He attempted to explain it to me, but I just didn't fully understand the seriousness or what was next to come.
After a long, rainy, foggy drive into Pittsburgh, we arrived at Mercy Hospital. I was taken into a room in the ER. I had never been to an ER in a big hospital with a level one trauma unit, so this was all new to me. It was loud. People were yelling for help, doctors and nurses were running seemingly a muck and it was just plain busy. Within several minutes I was greeted by a young, sweet, compassionate ER nurse. She immediately smiled at me, introduced herself and made me comfortable. It was then I realized the craziness of that ER was normal, busy and I realized this was how it was going to be until I was moved, after all I was going to be a direct admission, so how long could this all take?
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