You Will Make It through This Storm (eBook)

One Couple's Miraculous Journey to Defying All Odds While Praying for Healing and More Time Together

Ken Rodli (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2022 | 1. Auflage
228 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-8039-6 (ISBN)

Infos

An inspirational medical memoir with a message of perseverance, demonstrating how love can create miracles; love really does conquer all.

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Ken and Dyanne Rodli's fairytale romance began in high school and blossomed into a glorious, 52-year marriage blessed with three children and five grandchildren. Like all couples, Ken and Dyanne faced tragedies and triumphs, but nothing could have prepared them for Dyanne's devastating, twelve-year medical odyssey that began in 2008. Doctors said there was no hope and the prognosis was dire, but Dyanne defied all medical and scientific odds, outliving expectations by more than a decade. Ken and Dyanne's unwavering faith and undying belief that everything happens for an earthly and an eternal reason, propelled the couple through unimaginable adversity. As Dyanne's only caregiver for more than twelve years, Ken's love and respect for her as a true warrior and survivor molded his commitment and deepened his love to a level far beyond any concern for himself. Buoyed by Dyanne's personal motto of, "e;Do Not Quit: Someone is praying for you and you will make it through the storm. God is good all the time!"e; the Rodlis never gave up and never gave in, treating every day together as the treasure it was meant to be. The love expressed through their story is sure to uplift, inspire, and enliven every reader, but especially those who are caregivers, or who are experiencing the serious illness of themselves or a loved one. Author Ken Rodli was born in Boston, raised on the West Coast, and now resides in Franklin, Tennessee.

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Chapter 1

Life-Altering Surgery

It was Monday, June 30th, 2008, an exciting day but a bit scary also, as we looked forward to a solution to Dyanne’s stomach issues. Obviously before any surgery, there was some reservation, some apprehension, some nervousness, especially since the previous four surgeries had only been semi-successful. Dyanne woke this morning and shared with me, “This is going to be really hard once again, but it will be so wonderful to finally have a solution to my stomach issues. At the same time, it is always a bit scary for me to be put under with anesthesia.” However, we were trusting that the outcome was ultimately in God’s control and everything will be okay.

Following a nine-hour surgery, which included a couple of hours in recovery, I met with the surgeon. He informed me that he had removed most of Dyanne’s stomach, which he determined was severely damaged. In addition, he had to reconstruct part of the upper bowel, specifically near the exit of the stomach. He also stated that he had removed approximately five pounds of old, hardened, undigested food and scar tissue that was a result of her ongoing stomach issues. No wonder she was having serious issues eating, as well as extreme pain. He then explained that everything considered, the surgery went quite well and we should expect a hospital stay of three to four days and we would be going home. Great news! Thank you, Lord! Finally an answer to what we had been dealing with and fervently hoping and praying for.

Following recovery, Dyanne arrived in her room in a lot of pain, and it continued to increase as the anesthesia wore off. Nearly half an hour had passed now, and she began to half-consciously mumble a request for relief from the growing pain. Our RN was becoming concerned due to Dyanne’s obvious pain level, which she could not yet get under control because the PCA (patient-controlled pain pump) had not arrived yet. The nurse told me that she had received all Dyanne’s medications but no PCA. She immediately made a call and discovered to her dismay that the surgical team had neglected to even put in the order. She placed a rush order for the PCA; however, another thirty minutes would pass before it arrived in our room. By this time, Dyanne had become quite desperate for relief. Dyanne then asked the nurse if she could turn off the foot pumps that were jerking her entire body every time they inflated, causing additional pain. Her nurse removed them immediately and informed us that she had just had a continuing education class, which informed them that the foot pumps do absolutely nothing to discourage blood clots, unless used in conjunction with leg pumps. Consequently, she immediately put in an order for the leg pumps.

By the time the PCA had arrived, was hooked up and functional, Dyanne’s pain was out of control. In addition, she was now completely disoriented, and in such a weakened condition that she was incapable of managing her own pain control with the PCA. Our nurse was now frustrated because our surgical team had gone home for the evening and the doctor on call was not responding. When the “on call” doctor finally appeared, he informed us that he was unable to make any adjustments to Dyanne’s care, because he was not familiar enough with her case. Are you kidding me? Lord, please help us now!

I cannot accurately describe my frustration, anxiety, or anger at this point. I never left her side, trying my best to comfort her in some small way throughout the night. It was a horrible night. Dyanne would literally pass out at times from the pain, regain consciousness for a time, then slip away once again. I remember referring to this night as a “night from hell,” praying for relief, literally begging the nurse to seek a solution. I had no idea that this was to be just the first of many horrific nights as well as days that were to come.

By Tuesday morning, Dyanne’s pain was still completely unmanageable and would continue throughout the day and through the night. The only answer I was able to obtain from the doctors was that they had her on a lot of pain medication already, and it would eventually get better. I have no idea how she endured. Minutes were swallowed up by hours of severe pain, with little hope of relief in sight. I sat by her bed literally praying my heart out for some kind of relief, but there seemed to be no foreseeable answer for my girl. As I watched and felt her pain, I began to question, “Are the doctors not listening? Do they even care? Do they not believe her pain is that severe? Why is there no sense of urgency here at all?”

We had never experienced a situation anything like this. Her previous four surgeries did not resemble this at all. We had wonderful medical care, and her pain was managed incredibly well. So what was so different now? I was becoming extremely frustrated, exhausted, and so tired of hearing “we are just following protocol.” Obviously, protocol was not working this time. I was now feeling terribly guilty, and questioning our decision to change physicians, to change locations, but it was far too late for that. Had I been guilty of convincing my girl to switch doctors and hospitals, and now she was literally being tortured? This was so far out of my control. What could I do differently to help her? I kept petitioning with no results.

“Oh God, please help my girl!” The phrase, “the fervent prayer of a righteous man…” frequently ran through my mind. I began looking for some failure within myself, because I was fervently praying, but to no avail, because there was definitely no relief. How long could this go on before my girl literally broke?

It was now late Wednesday morning; nearly forty-eight hours had passed and the insanity continued. The team of doctors had now given instructions that Dyanne must “get up” and move around in order to recover, which we all were well aware of. However, her pain was still at such a level, that when they attempted to just sit her up in bed, she cried out in pain and moments later passed out. I caught myself sarcastically, out of total frustration, questioning the doctor, “Is this what is called managed care?” That may not have helped the cause much at all; however, this was beginning to fall under the heading of “cruel and unusual punishment.”

As a result of them attempting to sit her up without managing her pain, now sharp, stabbing-like pain was telegraphing into her chest cavity, mimicking the effect of having a heart attack. Her body began to shake and have spasm-type responses to the pain. Consequently, she was immediately taken to Radiology and received an X-ray and CT scan. Fortunately, it was determined that there were no issues with her heart, but they did discover two blood clots that had taken up residence in her left lung. Imagine that! Her pain was not being managed, so she could not be up moving around, now resulting in the serious complication of blood clots lodged in her left lung. Blood thinners were now added to her medication regimen, but no additional adjustments to her pain management were made at this time.

Wednesday night passed and Thursday morning brought no change, just more anxiety and unrelenting pain. At this point, the team was telling me to be patient and it should get better. I’m sorry, but it was not. I was losing my ability to be calm or maintain self-control. Once again, we had never, ever, experienced a postoperative situation even remotely like this. You want to trust these people! You have to trust these people, but that trust had developed some very deep, dark holes in it. I was beginning to question whether or not they had a clue or even cared. I began to blame myself. If I just had more insight and knew more about what was going on. My experience as an advocate was so limited, and there was so much that was kept secret and not shared with me.

Due to the prolonged chest pain, Dyanne’s ability to breathe properly was now being affected. She would look at me with her half-conscious eyes and plead in a weak whisper, “Please help me. It hurts so bad.”

“Oh Lord! What can I do to get her some relief?’ Another CT scan was performed. The results showed a bile leak in her stomach cavity, which created a pocket of fluid, neatly tucked behind the liver. Along with this, there was additional evidence that due to this fluid pocket, infection had started to develop inside her stomach cavity. She was sent to Interventional Radiology, where they performed what I was being told was a very risky procedure. A tube was inserted through a portion of the liver in an effort to drain the fluid pocket hidden behind.

When Dyanne returned to the room, she was partially alert for the first time, and pleaded with me, “Please don’t let them take me down there again. They hurt me so bad that I was screaming and crying the entire time. It took three separate stabs into my liver before they were able to position the tube properly to drain the fluid. I was crying and begging them to please give me something for the pain, but they just kept stabbing and telling me that they had already given me some.”

Upon further discussion with the team, they revealed that they were unable to determine the origin of the leak. However, they informed me that they were not concerned, because usually this type of leak eventually closes on its own.

It was 5:30 p.m. now, and a laser scan was...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 19.12.2022
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-8039-X / 166788039X
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-8039-6 / 9781667880396