THE HARDEST DECISION OF MY LIFE

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We were taken to the intensive care unit to see Tony, and by now I was desperate to see him and comfort him as he must be so frightened in this strange hospital, but first we must wait in this big waiting area with the circular bench unit in the middle with all the crying people for visiting times to begin, this was a ritual we were to get used to during the coming days, it was almost barbaric to see these crowds of people with dying or seriously ill relatives in rows of beds, comforting one another in Spanish while I stood there with the children dazed. 

Was this really an intensive care unit? Surely it should only allow minimal visitors as was the case in our country, how could they allow whole families to breathe their germs on these desperately ill people.

We waited until the bell rang and the doors opened to allow us to file in with all the people to look for Tony, it felt like we were visiting a prisoner in a cell. We finally found him lying on a bed next to other patients with no curtain or any partition to offer privacy.

We were relieved to see him awake and expected the questions to start. Why am I here? What happened? Get me out of this place, but he seemed quite conditioned to his surroundings and didn’t even ask why he was there, this was the first sign that I had that he had suffered some problem with his brain function, later I was to realise that the haemorrhage would have caused this, and he didn’t realise what had happened to him, he had no memory of it, I was scared.

We stayed as long as we were able to making small talk, Tony wasn’t even surprised to see the children, and they were scared too, but we put on smiling faces and kissed him goodbye hoping and praying that this was temporary.

We were now left to find accommodation to stay in while Tony was to be in the hospital and I had chosen a small hotel close to hospital where we checked in to a shared room exhausted and bereft.

Once again I faced another sleepless night crying for most of the time and speaking to close friends and family in England and the USA where my sister and elderly mother lived in Miami.

I was unable to talk sensibly to them all about his condition, I still didn’t understand the enormity of what I had been told, and they had all looked on the internet to read about how only 1% of sufferers survive a subarachnoid haemorrhage caused by an aneurysm, and if they do only 4% will survive without disability, they did not share this news with me, and I was fortunately ignorant of this information.

The following day we made our way to the hospital where we met up with Ana and our 2 neighbours who had helped me when Tony had collapsed.

 It was Monday March 24th, one of the neighbours was explaining through Ana in Spanish, that they knew of a professor in Spain who specialised in neurology, and who was purported to be the finest surgeon in Spain.

They were trying to contact this professor who had operated on a relative of theirs and were hoping he would be able to see Tony.

Pablo our neighbour and Ana (my angel) spent hours on the telephone trying to contact him, and eventually managed to speak to him about his condition. He advised them to find out if his blood pressure was normal by checking his charts, and to report back to him with the results, which they did.

Meanwhile Katie Rob & I did everything we could to find out about his condition from our doctor in England, and to arrange the insurance money we needed to pay for our accommodation, etc.

We had holiday insurance and contacted the company as soon as we were able to, explaining that we had Tony in a public hospital but were waiting for another opinion on his condition from a professor in Zaragoza.

This information was not received well, and they appeared to put up as many obstacles as possible, which only increased our heartbreak further.

It was now Tuesday March 25th, and we had visited as much as we were allowed which wasn’t much. That day I had called our friends Ruth & Mel who lived near to Malaga as Ruth spoke fluent Spanish, and they arranged to meet us at the hospital when visiting hours were on.

Katie was driving a car we had hired and we had decided to drive to the hospital that day instead of taking taxis as the costs were mounting up. We got hopelessly lost and missed the whole visiting hour, we were devastated when we finally arrived as we had so little time with Tony, but fortunately Ruth & Mel had kept him company.

When we arrived we were called into an office by a doctor, and Ruth translated for us as he told us they had scheduled Tony to have an operation the following morning. They explained that they would have to perform delicate micro surgery on his brain to clip the aneurysm, this was extremely dangerous they explained as it could cause him to have a stroke, and may leave him with damage to the brain, but there was no choice as if he didn’t have the operation he may get another bleed in the brain and he could die.

The doctor was very curt and unemotional whilst he was explaining the situation to us, we sat opposite him silent and my heart was banging. I looked at my children and Katie asked as many questions as she could, I couldn’t talk at this point, I just kept thinking this was all a nightmare and it really wasn’t happening.

We thanked him finally and were told that the operation would take place at 7am the following morning. We were asked to sign a consent form which Ruth read and translated for us before I signed it, she assured me we could change our minds after we had signed it, but they must have our consent, I felt almost as if I was signing Tony’s death warrant, but I had no choice if he didn’t have this operation he would die. We were able to go and see him after this meeting and we rushed to the intensive care ward as visiting hours were finishing, when we got there Tony’s bed had gone. My heart was in my mouth and we shouted to the nurses asking where was he, thankfully Ruth was with us and they explained he had been taken downstairs for an X-ray, we breathed a sigh of relief thinking that we had lost him again.

Those visits during the first few days were surreal, Tony seemed to accept that he was in hospital, but he wasn’t concerned it was almost as if he had been drugged and every time we went to see him, sometimes with friends he would chat to us as if nothing had happened, he seemed to accept the situation without asking any questions. We realised later that this was the effect of the bleed in the brain, apparently it takes 3 days for the brain to fill with blood and he had suffered a massive haemorrhage.

That evening we left the hospital and walked across the street and had a coffee with Ruth & Mel trying to justify the fact that the operation had to go ahead, but I felt very uneasy about it, especially as I had no idea who was gong to open up my husband’s head and operate on his brain, I hadn’t even met the surgeon who was going to perform the surgery. 

We left to drive back to our friend Pauline’s apt where we were staying, and we were still making and receiving frantic calls to Pablo and Ana asking if they had managed to get hold of the professor as he had asked us to keep him informed. I needed to tell him about the operation and I was running out of time.

We cried most of the way back to Pauline’s that night, Rob tried to be positive as always, but Katie and I were still trying to understand exactly what was going to happen to Tony and were so worried about the possible implications of the surgery. We were frightened, tired and emotionally exhausted. I had not slept for 2 nights and was still suffering pain from my surgery.

It was midnight and we were on a motorway driving to Marbella when my mobile phone rang it was the professor, Dr Vincente Calatayud finally calling us. He spoke English, but not very well, however he made himself understood and listened as I explained about the scheduled operation for the next morning. As I finished telling him what the doctors had said he shouted to me that I must not let them proceed, it was the third day after the bleed and the brain would be full of blood, he said it would make the operation much harder to perform and there was more chance of complications.

I was shocked I asked him how I could stop them from performing the surgery at this late hour, and what was the alternative. He told me to get Tony to his clinic in Zaragoza in the north of Spain, he explained if his blood pressure was stable, which he believed it was from the reports he had got from Pablo then he would be able to fly in an air ambulance. He was so kind and I felt he really cared, but I had to make this decision myself, he could only advise me. I finished the call by promising him I would let him know my decision as soon as I could.

We had pulled the car over in to a lay by now and we sat in the car crying and talking through this new piece of information, we were faced with yet another life or death decision, and this time we didn’t all agree.

I think that something happened to me whilst I sat in the back of the car listening to Katie begging me to let them operate as scheduled, she wanted her daddy alive, and she didn’t care at that point in what condition, she was convinced that if he was moved he would die, and I knew if this happened she would never forgive me. Rob however, wasn’t convinced that it was the right decision and he wanted his dad to have to the best chance of surviving normally.

I recalled many conversations that Tony & I had over the years about suffering brain damage, and whether we would want to live if we had to be looked after for the rest of our lives by each other, and also being a burden to our kids etc. It is often a topic of conversation amongst friends who are parents of older children, and who are heading towards their older years, we had always said we would rather not live like that if we had a choice as we would have no quality of life.

It was then that I realised the decision had to me mine and mine only, I couldn’t let my children have this burden, it must be my decision, and I would have to accept the consequences. I knew what it would be, but first I had to speak to Tony’s brother and sister.

I think that night had to have been the longest of my life, the kids were exhausted from crying and they fell asleep immediately. Katie had just started a relationship with her boyfriend Paul and had only known him for a short time but she needed him during these terrible long hours and she used to call him, which helped her to deal with her emotions.

Paul was always fascinated with medical television programmes, and both he and Katie would sit up until the early hours of the morning sometimes watching operations performed, one of which I was to discover later was clipping an aneurysm, so they knew all about the seriousness of the surgery.

I called my sister that night in Miami, and we cried together, she couldn’t advise me and I didn’t expect her to but she was there for me and it gave me comfort, as did the calls to my very closest friends, they were the only ones I could speak to during the long days and weeks that were to follow, my emotions were running too high to be able to deal with the many questions that caring friends and relatives had for me, so I relied on these few friends to pass on the information as Tony’s condition was now becoming a topic of conversation around the world.

During that night I spoke at length to both Tony’s sister and brother and told them our options, they trusted my judgment and assured me that whatever decision I made they would stand behind me, they were devastated as I was and we were all just trying to come to terms with what we had been faced with. Tony’s life hung in the balance that night and I finally received a sign that confirmed my decision, it was made.

Tomorrow I was going to get Tony out of that hospital and fly him to Zaragoza.

Arrangements had to be made and quickly. With the help of my friend Pauline and her husband Keith we started looking for hotels in Zaragoza. We called Helicopter Sanitarios and arranged for a plane to collect him from the hospital and fly him to Zaragoza.

My children were to fly on a commercial flight and I was to fly with Tony in a fully equipped hospital plane from Helicopter Sanitarios . We had to get to the hospital in Malaga as early as possible to arrange for Tony to be transported to Zaragoza.

We arrived at the hospital at approx. 7am and waited once again to see a doctor that would understand us. We finally managed to explain that we didn’t want the operation to proceed and we had made arrangements for Tony to be transferred to a Clinic in Zaragoza under the care of Dr Vicente Calatyud.

The doctor we spoke to was horrified, he said I was a crazy lady and that Tony could die on this journey, but I was insistent, and made it clear I had made my decision.

He explained that Tony was running a temperature and they didn’t know why, which was another reason they did not recommend he was moved.

We were asked to wait in the waiting area until he returned and asked us to follow him, we did not know where to, but did as we were asked. We were escorted into a large office where a very handsome doctor was sitting behind a desk, and who spoke perfect English to us all, asking us to take a seat.

He then went on to explain that he was the head of the hospital and it was he who had been scheduled to operate on Tony that morning. He asked why we felt it necessary to move him and I then explained how we had been recommended to Dr Calatyud, and he had recommended that the surgery was delayed until the bleeding on the brain had subsided because there was too much risk in performing it on the 3rd day.

When he heard Dr Calaytud’s name he smiled, and explained that he was trained by this wonderful man. He then went on to explain there were different opinions about operating on the 3rd day but he had no other slots to perform the operation and was unable to take up space in this public hospital by waiting for the bleeding to subside.

He asked if we would like him to put in a call to Dr Calatyud and we said yes.

 We sat opposite this doctor for at least 20 mins trying to decipher the conversation between them, but to no avail. Katie had already picked up quite a bit of Spanish and could string together some words but our understanding of the language, which was always spoken with speed, was nil.

Finally when he came off the phone he gave his permission for us to remove Tony from his care and transport him to Zaragoza, but not before he reminded us there was considerable risk, especially as he had a fever and the journey could be dangerous.

He also assured us that he was a very eminent neurosurgeon and was very capable of carrying out the surgery to place a clip on the blood vessel where it had swelled to ensure that there will be no further bleeding in the brain.

I was not swayed, I had made my decision but I am sure both my children were thinking differently at this point. The fact that we had been able to finally speak to an English speaking doctor and the fact that he was ready at that point to operate on Tony may have made them want to keep him safe in that environment, but I was thinking that if he had a fever that would make it even more dangerous to operate.

 I had an angel on my shoulder who was guiding me, and I knew Dr Calatyud would be the one to save Tony’s life. I silently prayed that the decision I had made would be the right one, and thanked the doctor and proceeded to the Intensive Care ward where the Helicopter Sanitarious hero’s in their red suits were waiting for us.

The children and I managed a tearful goodbye while they were taken to Malaga airport for a commercial flight to Zaragoza. It was another heart-breaking moment as we were to be separated and they didn’t know if Tony would make the flight safely, or whether they would see him alive again.

I was taken with Tony in an ambulance to Malaga airport to a private jet plane which when we boarded looked almost like a hospital operating room. There was all the equipment necessary to monitor Tony’s vital signs and at least 3 paramedics on board monitoring him all the time. My heart was in my mouth until we finally landed in Zaragoza where an ambulance was waiting to take us to Clinica Maz where Tony was to be cared for by Dr Calatyud.

We arrived at a modern, clean building, which was like a palace compared to the crowded public hospital we had left behind in Malaga. We had witnessed patients standing in crowded stairwells with trolleys they were wheeling, containing their medication and smoking cigarettes! We had sat with large families in the waiting area in front of the intensive care unit often having to stand for ages while waiting for visiting hours. The hospital was old and run down even though their reputation was good the facilities were antiquated compared with the modern private hospitals we were used to in the UK.

Relief swept over me when Tony was wheeled into a spotless intensive care ward with a visiting window. While they were preparing him and assessing his vital signs we were taken to meet Dr Vincente Calatyud. 

When I met this little man with a kind face I knew I had made the right decision to put Tony’s life in his hands. He spoke English and we were able to discuss the procedure for Tony easily without translation. He knew that Tony had a fever and was going to monitor him and hopefully find out why before he went any further.

He took me himself to meet up with my children at the hotel we had booked to stay in near the hospital, and became a father figure and a little hero to us all from that moment on. He wasn’t just a doctor, he was a caring kind and sweet man who wanted to look after us. I couldn’t get over the fact that he looked so much like my paternal grandfather, and that gave me even more comfort.

To be continued.......