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Brain Go BOOM! Author/Survivor: John Cooper Chapter 5: Big, Beautiful, Blue Eyes A s my eyes slowly cracked open from my Rumpelstiltskin-like sleep of my ten-day medically-induced coma, masses of people convened at my bedside. It was a madhouse. Doctors, nurses, students, lab techs, phlebotomists, x-ray techs, neurologists—you name it, they came to see me. The first question I remember being asked was “Do you know where you are?” I answered, “I’m in a Disney hospital.” I knew who I was. I knew I was married and that I had two daughters, but I didn’t know where I was or what the hell was going on. Place? Date? President of the United States? No clue! The days prior to all of this when I first saw my primary doctor had never happened to me, yet why did I think I was in a Walt Disney World hospital? Like a complex and confusing puzzle, I am still trying to put those missing pieces together. Some events are vividly clear and other events are totally erased. It’s as if those days leading up to the aneurysm bursting never happened. I remember dribs and drabs, but most memories of that family trip to Walt Disney World are nonexistent. I looked around and didn’t see any familiar faces. I had the wherewithal to do a quick nursing assessment of my situation. I could not move my left leg, my left arm nor my left hand. With my right hand I identified a nasogastric (NG) tube placed in my nose for feeding, a ventilator tube in my mouth and down my throat to force oxygen to my lungs for breathing, a Foley catheter in my penis to drain my kidneys, a central IV line for fluid intake, and wires that coming out of my skull. The pain was nothing like a vice grip or railroad spike. Instead, it was more like somebody had dropped a bucket of golf balls on my head. Through the tightly wrapped gauze dressing circling my head, I felt a large depression in my skull. Slowly sneaking my pointer and middle finger under the dressing, I could only feel a thin layer of skin, then my brain. It felt like ground meat through cellophane at a grocery store. I was dumfounded. It felt unnatural. (Why do people depress packaged, ground meat with their fingers before buying it? Is there a grocery store secret to that?) Page 22 of 167
Brain Go BOOM! Author/Survivor: John Cooper I was pissed off! I knew I had a living will. Why are they doing this to me? I was not going to live like this. I grabbed the NG tube with my right hand and yanked it out. For those that don’t know, the end of an NG feeding tube catheter is anchored into the stomach with a balloon of saline solution about the size of a small Super Ball (similar to the ones I used to get at the Five and Dime and bounce down my driveway of my childhood row home in Philly). As it came up, I had to pull really hard to get it past the back of my throat, nasal cavity, and then through my nostril. My eyes teared in pain, but they were more like the tears created when you are choking on something. I admit it was a quick, self-inflicted asshole move, but I wanted to get my point across—I was not going to live like this! I think I made my point clear. The next thing I remember is Laura appearing in front of me. Finally, someone I knew! What a sight! Her big, beautiful, blue eyes were a welcomed site. Her smile was synonymous with her tears and everything began to look up. She stoically stood and looked down at me, as if it was our wedding day. With nothing but pure love beaming out of her big, beautiful, blue eyes she said, “I love you, John.” I can hardly remember anything she said after. She tried to fill me in on everything that had occurred over that ten-day stretch of being in a coma. All I remember is her saying, “I love you, John.” I tried saying it back, but I don’t know if she understood what I was saying with the ventilator tube in my mouth. I was getting annoyed that she couldn’t understand me. I thought to myself, “Alright Coop, let’s get up so we can go home now. I just have to get this ventilator tube out next.” Page 23 of 167
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