A Daughter's Christmas Story

Even from Momma's bedside at a hospital room in Nashville, I am discovering more reasons to be Lovin' it in Limestone.

Since friends, church family, co-workers and strangers in Limestone County have heard about Momma's ordeal from being declared brain dead to breathing on her own, prayers, calls, Facebook messages, money, Christmas carols, Christmas cards, food and kind acts have traveled Interstate 65 by vehicle or by phone.


Two words like "thank you" seem so inadequate to express what this support has meant to us. The next best thing is to share with you how your prayers and support have given us a Christmas surprise.

On Dec. 3, Momma called me and her sister because she was short of breath and had a pain in her chest and lower side. She had been short of breath for a few days but her doctor thought it was a reaction to a new fluid pill she was taking to treat swelling in her legs.


We now know blood clots traveled from her legs to her lungs, and during an episode with acid reflux, she exerted pressure on a now weakened heart and tore her aorta.


Aunt Jim (short for Jimalee - what a great Southern name) and I took Momma to Crockett Hospital in Lawrenceburg, Tenn., where she stayed all day and part of the night. She was diagnosed with at least one blood clot in her lung. Momma was sent to a room and began giving me orders like a reality TV chef.

"Check the cat's food and water." "Turn down my central unit so I'm not paying to heat a house I'm not even at." "Bring me my make-up. Y'all drug me up here with no make-up and my hair not combed and looking like a tramp."


Aunt Jim stayed with her while I drove to St. Joseph to adhere to her "requests." I was on my way back when my cousin, Aunt Jim's daughter Patty, called to tell me, "You better get back here quick."


A blood clot went to Momma's heart. The jolt caused her heart to stop beating, not once, but five times. Unbeknown to us, the medical staff revived her each time with paddles and CPR for an hour-and-a-half. While Elizabeth Brewer, who was a second mom to me throughout high school, held me in her grasp, I was told Momma was stable and on a ventilator, but likely would have no brain function. I demanded they fly her to St. Thomas Hospital in Nashville.


Hilton, who is due to have a baby girl any day, drove me at 2 in the morning to Nashville, hitting speed bumps in the hospital driveway so fast I thought she was going to knock her baby out. "If she goes into labor on the trip, we'll just deliver it and name it," Patty said.


Hilton, Justin, Misty, Josh, Aunt Jim, Patty, and cousins Doy, Rita and Matt sat with me in a family conference room at the hospital while we waited for the doctor at St. Thomas to tell us her prognosis.


Dr. Casey said she was stable and a team of doctors was evaluating her. It was after everyone had left and I had gotten a couple hours of sleep that Dr. Casey and a nurse named Terese found me. They suggested I call the family in to say goodbyes. There was no evidence of any brain function. The ventilator was doing all her breathing.


Through tears,  I started calling family and friends. Misty and Josh returned, and family came in to see her one last time. Momma's name was placed on prayer lists throughout the country that Sunday morning, thanks to my Facebook followers and those of you in Limestone County.


Around lunchtime, I noticed Momma kept moving her head, as if irritated by the ventilator. The nurse assured me that was a natural gag reflex. She kept twitching her feet, and the nurse assured me the body was hyper sensitive, even when there was no brain function.


Misty and I had doubts. While Terese was checking Momma's vitals, she jerked her head again. I touched her forehead.


"Momma, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" I asked.


She blinked! The nurse told me to try again.


"Momma. It's me. Open your eyes for me," I implored.


She briefly did! She couldn't squeeze my hand, but she pushed her feet against Misty's hands. The team of doctors returned, re-evaluated this tough Pollock gal, and changed her status to "cautiously better."


It wasn't until  a few days later that Misty asked me whether I realized that Momma opened her eyes and pushed her feet about the time churches were getting out for morning service.


"Think of all the prayer lists she was on," Misty said. "That doesn't sound like a coincidence to me."


Since in a week and two days time she is breathing on her own and able to briefly stand and whisper to me, I don't think it's a coincidence either.

Momma, me and Daddy back in the day