Pulmonary Hypertension

“Mom,” Alyssa said, “you're wanted on the phone.”

I was? Who would be calling me at Alyssa's house?

I was spending the day with my middle daughter, helping her finish a tiny little blessing gown she had sewn for her new baby, Kaylan. The dress was adorable, like Kaylan, and I was having fun visiting and playing with her.

“Hello?”

“Gale, this is Keith,” my oldest brother told me over the phone. “I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning. Mom's had some kind of an attack, and is in the hospital up in Show Low.”

“Is she OK?” I asked in alarm.

“They don't know yet. I've been talking to Linda, she's with dad at the hospital, but they don't know anything yet.”

“What happened? Mom was fine when she and dad left this morning to go up to Alan's mother's funeral.”

“Linda says mom collapsed just after they got there. She and dad were a little early, so they went to Linda's house first. Mom was trying to get out of the car and she just collapsed. Linda and dad called 911, and they rushed her to the hospital. Alan had to go to the funeral, of course, he was going to go to the hospital right after, but his dad collapsed at the cemetery, so he's taking care of him.”

My goodness! What was happening to everybody? Alan was my sister's husband, and his mother had died unexpectedly the week before, passing out as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair. It was totally unexpected, since her health was good except for a cough she'd been fighting. Moe's mother had passed away a month earlier, but she'd been declining for years. Now mom was in the hospital, too, and I was scared.

“Are you going up to Snowflake?” I asked Keith.

“Yes. As soon as Becky and I can get away. Do you want to ride with us?”

“Let me see,” I answered slowly. “Moe is up at Blue Ridge, elk hunting, and I probably won't be able to get him on the phone, he doesn't get reception at his camp. The girls are in school, but I could take them out, I guess. I'll have to see what I can do.”

“Just let me know,” Keith told me. “We won't go for a couple of hours.”

After hanging up and explaining the situation to Alyssa, I drove home. She would have liked to go to Snowflake with me, but Kaylan's baby blessing was that weekend, and she needed to get ready for that. On the way home I called my oldest daughter, Linnea.

“Honey, I won't be able to do Grandma Day tomorrow,” I told her. “Grandma Russell is in the hospital up in Show Low, and I need to go up there.”

I explained as much as I knew about the situation while I drove.

“I want to go with you,” Linnea told me when I was done. “Jason can get a discount on rental cars through his business. I'll call him and get him to rent one big enough for all of us.”

That sounded like a great idea to me, but I still wasn't sure about how things were going to work out. I sure wished Moe was home, or at least near a phone so I could talk to him.

In the end, neither Kami or Krissi wanted to get out of school to go up to Snowflake, but our neighbor, their best friend's mother, volunteered to let them stay at her house. That was a big relief. Linnea's husband was able to get a good deal on a rental car, and we were able to get off by early afternoon.

We drove straight to Moe's hunting camp. He was surprised to see me, but said as long as the girls were happy with their friends, it was fine with him if I went on over to Snowflake to be with mom. We didn't talk long, then we headed on over to Snowflake.

“How's mom doing?” I asked Linda on the phone as soon as we got within cell phone reception.

“She's holding her own,” Linda told me. “They are going to do an angiogram, to see if there's another blockage or something, but for now she's doing OK.”

We got to Snowflake just after dark. Linda's daughters volunteered to watch Linnea's kids, so we dropped them off at her house, then drove on up to Show Low, where the hospital was. Mom was still in ICU, but I got to see her for a minute, and talk to dad.

Later that night, back at Linda's, we talked with the rest of my brothers and sisters. This whole thing was getting old. Six months earlier we'd all been together when mom was in the hospital for weeks, finally having quadruple by-pass surgery. Now we were on pins and needles again, trying to find out what was wrong this time. At least here my brother-in-law, Alan, was able to coordinate mom's care and make sure things were being done the right way at the hospital. It sure was nice having a doctor in the family.

It made me admit, albeit grudgingly, that I understood why dad wanted to sell our house down in Gilbert and move up to Snowflake, across the street from Linda and Alan.

Mom's angiogram came back clear the next morning. She didn't have any more blockages. The cardiologist performed a number of other tests, and eventually diagnosed her with pulmonary hypertension, a condition that affected both her heart and lungs. Apparently there were two types of the disease, one that responded to medication, one that didn't. The final word was that they would try giving mom medicine, and hope it would help. In the meantime, she had to use oxygen to breath, and that helped a little, although she hated the smell, the dryness, and the inconvenience of using it. Still, she was able to come home, and within a few days was up and around again. Thank goodness for small blessings. At least she was still with us!

The Indian Ruins

          We loved to go for walks with Grandma Russell when we were up at the cabin, especially to the Indian ruins.  There were many ruins scattered around the hill tops along Haiger Creek, but the ruins we enjoyed the most were on a big hill past the spring.  It was a long walk for little feet, but worth it. 

          The first time Grandma showed us the Indian ruins I didn't think much of them.  To my young eyes it was just a bunch of tumbled down rocks, with clumps of tall grass, prickly pear cactus, spiny agave, and once in a while Indian Paintbrush flowers pushing up through the rubble.  Then Grandma explained the ruins to us.  She showed us how the rocks were really tumbled down walls of Indian houses.  In some places they still made straight lines, and we could see the outline of a building. 

          Grandma picked up reddish brown rocks and showed us how they were really pieces of pottery.  They were light to hold, and smooth.  Once in a while she even found a piece that still had  patterns on it from being pressed against a straw basket when it was made.  At first the pottery looked the same as the red rocks, but with practice we could tell the difference.  It was the same thickness, all the way across, and lighter than rock.  When we were really lucky we found pieces of painted pottery, or the top of a jar with a smooth, curved rim. 

It always smelled wonderful up on the Indian ruins hill.  The sun shone hotter there, because there were no pine trees for shade.  The grass smelled like it was baked in an oven. Big, black horse flies and butterflies chased around through the remains of those long ago Indians.  Standing on the hill, we could see forever.  Below, to the south, was a meadow with a few cabins and gardens.  Across the creek above the bluffs lay big, empty meadows, climbing into hills and then mountains covered with pine trees, standing dark green against the blue sky.  We liked to imagine the Indians, living on their hill, able to see for miles and miles in every direction.

My little sister, Linda, was especially fascinated by the Indian ruins.  She would sit on a rock and daydream for hours about the people who once lived there.  Sometimes her eyes would be red and puffy when she finally got up and walked home.  I never knew why, until she finally admitted that she used to sit and cry for the poor people who had lived and died in that place.  Linda always was the dramatic one in our family.