Ten years ago today I was woken up by my phone ringing. I wasn’t happy about it. It was Tuesday and the last day of my long weekend. I wanted to sleep in.
I stumbled across my room to where my flip phone was plugged in and answered it. It was my sister. My mom was a preschool teacher and taught out of our converted garage. She was never late. She never had substitutes. So when my sister called saying it was time for preschool to start and my mom hadn’t unlocked the door for her daughter and the other 11 kids, I knew my mom would be so mad!
I ran upstairs and glanced in the preschool room. Nothing. I ran to my parents room to find my mom sleeping peacefully. So peacefully that I couldn’t wake her up. Strange.
I went over to my dad and knew something was very wrong. Not only does my dad never sleep past sunrise, but he wasn’t all there and couldn’t talk. I panicked and ran to my brother’s room. He woke up just fine, although he did have a headache. He came with me to see the parents and then pointed my very fuzzy vision (seeing as I hadn’t had time to put my contacts in) toward our sister’s car.
I ran barefoot to tell her something was wrong. She brought her kids in and immediately called 911. My brother was getting the kids a snack to keep them busy when my sister told us to get out of the house.
It felt so strange to be told our house was unsafe but to leave our parents inside. It was January in Utah. Luckily there was no snow, but I was barefoot in my pajamas without a jacket on the cold sidewalk waiting for the sounds of sirens to come help my parents. The 911 operator had said it sounded like carbon monoxide poisoning. I didn’t know anything about that…yet.
I don’t remember the other preschool parents clearing out. I just remember watching firefighters wearing all of their gear and their big, heavy boots rush into my house. I remember watching my parents being carried out. They called for more help and set my brother and me up in the firetruck with oxygen masks.
I’ve been in a firetruck and I can’t tell you anything about it because I was so worried about what was going on outside of it.
The first ambulance took my dad, who woke up enough to talk on the way to the hospital. The second ambulance took my mom, who would remain ‘asleep’ for several days. A third ambulance took me and my brother. I was barefoot seeing as the firefighters wouldn’t let me back in the house for my shoes. Luckily I had grabbed my contacts or I would have been blind all day.
I remember parking and walking barefoot into the hospital. One of the firefighters had offered me his shoes, but I said I was fine. The hospital felt so empty. Not like you see it on television shows. I’m guessing it was because of the doors we went in from the ambulance. I was taken to my own room, tested, monitored. My sister came to check on me. My brother showed up from work. My sister-in-law walked out of class to come. People from our stake who worked at the hospital came by. I still hadn’t seen my parents.
I was informed that we (my brother, dad, and I) would be given three treatments in the hyperbaric chamber, and I was given a pamphlet to read about it. I remember sitting on the hospital bed in a quiet room, but I have no idea what I was thinking. I don’t know whether I just really didn’t understand how serious this could be or whether I was in shock and denial.
I was pushed in a wheelchair to the hyperbaric chamber where I finally saw my brother and dad. It was a relief, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom.
The hyperbaric chamber was interesting. It was like this huge tube with big chairs in it. We got to pick a movie to watch and were sealed in with a medical professional. Then the room was pressurized. That was the worst part. I had such a hard time popping my ears over and over again. They had to slow it down a few times for me. It also got pretty cold. We breathed pure oxygen because we had had carbon monoxide in our systems.
I don’t remember how long we were in there, but when they depressurized it my grandparents were waiting at the door. It was amazing to me how many people were there for us as soon as they heard. So many people came to visit. People brought food and cards the following days. Our neighborhood started a fundraiser selling carbon monoxide detectors.
After our first treatment we went to eat in the cafeteria. My brother and sister-in-law picked up some clothes and things for us that night, if I remember correctly. It took awhile to hear about what the firefighters found. I think it took them awhile to find the leak. They found a crack in the boiler, which is where the carbon monoxide leaked from. We had had a carbon monoxide detector that had stopped working. We found out from the doctor that carbon monoxide detectors should be in every bedroom and on every level and changed EVERY 5 YEARS, no matter what the manufacturer says.
We were finally able to see my mom that night. It was surreal walking into her room. She was the worst off. My brother and I had been in the basement with our doors closed. My parents got a lot more of it in their room. There isn’t an exact reason why my dad handled it better than my mom. Body type, size, etc… She had to have hyperbaric treatments as well, but because they had her on a ventilator, she was sedated and in her own hyperbaric chamber.
My dad, brother, and I had our second treatment that evening. We got done around midnight and were able to leave the hospital. Because our house didn’t have heat due to the cracked boiler, we all stayed at my brother and sister-in-law’s apartment. We had a little sleepover in the front room and were back at the hospital early the next morning for our third and final treatment.
The next several days were a blur. I honestly don’t remember how we spent our time in the hospital waiting room for 15+ hours a day everyday that week. I didn’t have a smart phone and the benches were purposefully not long enough for us to sleep on. My mom was only allowed two people in her room at a time. We took turns visiting her with my dad barely leaving her side to eat. The first day or so we were asked not to talk to her and to let her rest. When we talked, she started to wake up and would be agitated with the tube down her throat. I remember lots of long, quiet hours standing beside her bed, holding her hand.
It took a few days to get our boiler fixed so that we could sleep in our house again. We definitely got several carbon monoxide detectors. In fact, I took one to college and take one to every hotel I stay in. We heard stories from our doctor about people getting carbon monoxide poisoning at hotels because there aren’t detectors.
It took a week for my mom to be able to come home. We all recovered amazingly, especially considering how high the level of carbon monoxide was in our home. Even ten years later I can’t believe it all really happened. It’s the kind of thing you hear on the news, not the kind of thing that happens to you.
Despite how scary it was, I have some good memories of that week. I got to spend all day everyday with my family. We got to see how many people cared about our family. There were so many tender mercies from how the morning of went down to getting help from a neighbor when my sister’s van had a flat tire late at night. I felt comforted and sure that things would be okay somehow.
We took the following picture after my mom came home from the hospital to thank the first responders and to let them know we were doing well.
In the past 10 years I’ve seen a lot of news stories that didn’t end as well as ours. I’m so, so grateful for how our story turned out.
