Spring 2024, Week Three

Content warning. I don't know exactly what trigger tags to list here but this might be difficult to read if you're in a fragile state, or have recently lost someone, or lost anyone really. 

I could have not posted all of this, and just opted out of the blog for this week, or I could have written something vague, but I already started archiving the daily events of this week as they were happening so I can go back and reference its timeline. 

Please feel free not to read. 

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Saturday, January 20th, 2024 

• Brian Sebolt’s 49th birthday. My Mom and Brian where planning on a day of snowshoeing but because of the poor weather decided to have a chill day inside before going out for dinner. On his way to the bathroom Brian collapsed. My mom tried to help him up but he was slurring his speech and losing function of his body. My mom called 911. In the 3 minutes it took for EMS to get there (they live very close to the hospital) he was unresponsive. 

• At the hospital they explained that Brian had a massive brain bleed and it wasn’t looking hopeful. They could decide to transport him to Fargo (nearest Trauma 1) for a surgery that had a 3% chance at any kind of recovery. My mom wasn’t in a state to make decisions so they called Brian’s mom and she decided to at least get him to the best care. 

• My sister drove my mom while they airlifted him, this is when they called the other siblings. A late night four way call with Taylor driving, Zak at home, Jo, and me who had recently fallen asleep. They told us everything and the severity of the situation. Zak and his wife decided to drive up immediately, Jo booked a flight during the call, and I was not understanding anything. 

• Once they arrived in Fargo, Mom had a long conversation with the neurosurgeon and made the courageous decision not to do whatever surgery because of the extreme risk and very low chance at regaining any proper brain activity.  

• The plan then became: keep Brian comfortable, on a ventilator, until the tests that detect brain activity stop, once declared brain dead, hold him on Comfort Care until his family are able to say goodbyes before taking him off the ventilator. 

• I was in shock. I went back to sleep. I passed out. 

Sunday 

• When I woke up, I called Jo, who was on an extended layover because of the weather. They told me I needed to book a flight. So I did. It was for early Monday morning. What was I going to do till then? Panic? 

• I went to work. - Bad idea. I told my boss immediately so he knew that I might need to step out for a phone call or whatever. I only lasted 2 hours on the floor. 

• Zak, Taylor, and Jo were all with my mom and Brian at this point, they filled me in on how the night went, they kept doing the brain activity testing every half hour? hour? he was still showing signs of activity. They were all watching a football game in his room when I called, spending time together. 

• I went home, packed a bag, emailed my bosses & professor, cleaned my house, arranged for my roommate to watch Asparagus and tried to rest before my flight. I couldn’t. I double checked my flight. I accidentally booked it for the same Monday but in February. I had a panic attack. I booked another flight with the correct day but with an earlier departure so I just headed to the airport. 

Monday

• I arrived in Fargo around 10am and went straight to the hospital. It was really difficult. Seeing him like that. Seeing my mom like that. 

• 4:31pm Brian was declared brain dead. 

• The four of us siblings took turns being with him and mom. When we weren’t in the room we were contacting family (Brian is from Florida and his siblings & parents were driving up because they couldn't fly), mom’s work, and Brian’s work. 

• At some point in the afternoon two people came into the room and asked my mom if she knew that Brian was an organ donor. Did you know that in these situations organ donation organizations can’t talk to you about this fact until you bring it up first or the person is declared brain dead? This messes with the Comfort Care plan. Kinda. Essentially it messed with moms timeline. Comfort care would basically just keep him breathing until mom decided to take him off but if mom signed off on the organ donation, the doctors would need to run many tests and do exercise to keep some organs viable. Like shaking the lungs to keep stuff from settling. And if you sign the paper to proceed with the donation, the family cannot be there when the “final breath” is taken. Which is kinda what my mom wanted and what Brian’s mom wanted.

• What proceeded to happen next were multiple arguments and processing of information on the logistics of how organ donation works and what Brian would have wanted.

• My mom decided to honor his wishes and signed the papers. Do you know how rare it is for this to happen? When a person is in an end of life situation they need to be responded to in minutes in order for organs to be viable before they lose blood flow or oxygen. Or how rare it is for those organs to be healthy enough? Or how rare it is for the family to sign off on that paperwork? Apparently many families in these situations go against what that person wanted because of personal beliefs or find issues with cornea and tissue donation. 

• Brian was honestly one of the most caring and selfless people I knew. We knew he would have wanted to help as many people as possible. They did the tests, his lungs, liver, pancreas, corneas, and tissue were all eligible for harvest. 

• The Florida family was expected to arrive in Fargo late that night. There is drama there that I don't care to get into. 

• Taylor and Jo drove back to Bemidji to take care of the babies, and give my brother in law a rest from taking care of them alone. Zak rented a hotel room, and I stayed the night in the hospital for my mom. 

• Around midnight I forced my mom to swap with me so she had a chance at sleeping in the pull out cot and I took the large chair we had positioned next to his bed.  

• I still kinda can’t shake the uneasiness of essentially sleeping next to a machine powered breathing corpse. Never tell my mom I said that. 

Tuesday 

• Mom and I were woken and kicked out of the room around 4am for the doctors to do a lung biopsy. It's terrifying to wake up to at least five doctors standing over you and your stepdad who have somehow managed to set up even more scary equipment when you were sleeping. 

• The morning consisted of many tests that we couldn’t be in the room for so I tried to get my mom to have breakfast in the cafeteria. Eventually my brother and his wife joined us, as well as Taylor and Jo who drove back over.

• Around 10am we sat with mom as the organ donation people explained how the next day would go and walked us through an impossibly long health questionnaire. After more testing and paperwork they started to search the transplant lists. Once they have either found people in need that are matches or have exhausted the list it would be four hours of notification before they took him into surgery. They told us that it was unlikely for everything to move at a rapid pace and said more than likely that the surgery would happen the following day, with finding matches and organizing doctors and whatever. So I decided to leave the hospital and go back to Bemidji with Taylor to help with child care until we got the four hour call. 

• I drove because Tay had just driven the 2 hours that day and I got a speeding ticket for going 72 in a 55. 

Tuesday

• Tay and I got the call around 5am that all transplants (except the pancreas) and doctors had been arranged; the surgery was scheduled for 11am. We got on the road right away and took baby Q with us. 

• While we were gone Zak and Jo dealt with the Florida family drama and supported mom. 

• Everyone was filtering in and out of the room to say final goodbyes, and preparing for the honor walk and flag raising. 

• When someone donates their organs hospitals do a number of things to honor that person and their family. It starts with an “Honor Walk” where it is announced to the staff that there is a patient about to “become a hero” so if they want to honor that sacrifice they are to stand along the walls of the hallways as the patient is transported from their room in ICU to the surgical elevators as the family walks behind. The internet says it's supposed to be beautiful, emotional, tragic, and respectful. I found it to be all of that but also deeply disgusting.

• Did you know before the doctors start a harvest surgery they read a final note written by the family? Did you know they play whatever music that the patient prefers during the transplant? They played 80's Rock for Brian. And read him a love note written by my mom.

• Then they raise a flag outside the hospital for 24 hours to let others know someone just donated life. 

• Brian Sebolt successfully saved two lives that day. 

The days that followed were filled with delegated tasks amongst the siblings. To avoid stepping into my moms house, or having to call many people for life insurance or extended family, I selfishly opted for being the main caretaker of my nephews, arranging things at the funeral home, and writing the obituary. 

I flew out on the following Tuesday, because I couldn’t do it anymore. But now that I’m back I’d give anything to be able to take care of my mom right now. 

I’m angry. I’m grieving. I have a lot of guilt. I keep waiting for the adrenaline to wear off or my fight or flight to stop but I don't think I’ve crashed yet. 

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Congratulations on getting through yet another “Over-Sharing-Blog-Time” with Molly! Sorry.

Believe it or not this is just a summary of what happened that week. 

I have an intense need to share because it feels strange that very few people know what happened. It feels disrespectful. It's been hard coming to terms with the fact that the world was just going forward like normal. It didn't freeze for four days like it did for me. I’m going through whiplash. I also don’t want to talk about it. So please don’t ask questions. 

I feel bad for trauma dumping, but thanks for reading, and like, who's actually going to see and read this besides people I trust with this information? I’m deleting all my blogs at the end of the semester, I’ve made it impossible to find on my actual website, and if you are some random person who found this: Hello! I’m very fragile right now.