About the Author
Barb Misheck is a signature member of The Ohio Watercolor Society. Her work has been included in approximately 65 group exhibits, national and international. She has won many awards. She lives in Willoughby Hills, Ohio with her Mom and sister Judy who also has Muscular Dystrophy.
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I think the worse part of all of this was not being able to talk. After two weeks of being intubated and with little hope of coming off the ventilator, my doctor felt there was no choice but to proceed with a tracheotomy. I was taken to the operating room and remember waking up with a very sore throat. Instead of having the intubation tube inserted into my mouth, it was now inserted directly into my neck. I was very scared and overwhelmed, and did not sleep for weeks. Being concerned that something would go wrong, I kept a watchful eye on the different machines that monitored my blood pressure,heart rate, pulse and oxygen levels in my blood. The nurses and doctors fascinated me. As I watched them, I wondered who would want such responsibility and so much chaos? I was scared to be alone. My lungs kept filling up with secretions, which made it difficult to breath. What if I needed to be suctioned? What if the tubing popped off my trach? Because I had not been out of bed in a very long time, my body was sore. I was having much difficulty eating, and because I was unable to consume an adequate amount of food by mouth, my only nutrition was from the IV's. Because of this, the next step was a surgical procedure to insert a gastrostomy tube into my stomach through a small incision in my abdomen. The purpose of this surgery was to enable me to receive balanced nutrition. An unwelcome result of this surgery was more pain with every breath I took. I was given Morphine for the pain and it was a great relief. The tube feedings,which consisted of a bag of liquid nutrition hanging from a pole similar to that of an IV pole and slowly dripping through the tube into my stomach, did not agree with me. Every time they gave it to me I became very sick. I weighed only 60 pounds.
In July of 1985 Judy was in the hospital, again very sick with pneumonia. My mom was away visiting Portugal and Italy with a group from church. Because the trip had been planned well in advance, both my dad and Judy had encouraged her not to cancel with the hope that Judy's condition would improve by the time she returned home.
My sister Carol and her husband Jim were on their honeymoon in Hilton Head, and Judy didn't want them to know what was going on for fear of ruining their trip. However,because Judy`s condition seemed to be getting worse, my dad decided to fill them in shortly before they were due home.