C. diff. steals an angel: This was no ordinary illness

C. diff.

Few of my Mom's eight children realized what was ahead after the doctor used those words to describe a bug she had caught after being treated for what seemed like a run-of-the-mill infection.

Antibiotics had dealt with the initial infection, but they also had killed off the "good bacteria" in her colon, allowing the bad ones to flourish.

On Christmas Day, the day after Mom was rushed to the ER at Advocate Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge, the doctor described C. diff., or Clostridium difficile, as a super bug, like MRSA. Once they figured out what was making Mom so sick, she was put into a room by herself - in isolation so the bug wouldn't be spread. Her children, all adults, could visit, but only if they put on a medical gown and gloves. We were not allowed to touch her soft skin, skin to skin. Her many grandchildren would not be allowed to visit.

Still, it didn't seem possible that this bug could take this strong, healthy woman who had seen her way through so many struggles and come out grateful and full of love and life. We'd all seen her come flying through an operation to fix a broken ankle and another to fix a broken bone in her back. So now, nearly through treatment to heal a fractured pelvis, she was faced with an infection. Surely the drugs would win. It just meant she'd spend Christmas and longer in the hospital, until the drugs could kill the bug.

And yet, an older brother who is a doctor in Minneapolis must have known how serious C. diff. can be. He and his wife hopped in the car early, the day after Christmas, and drove the 7½ hours straight to Lutheran General. The three of us laughed about the gowns and gloves in the hallway, racing to see who could get it all on first. They patiently watched for Mom to wake up between bouts of exhaustion and to make a joke.

But by Saturday, the bug had started to win. Mom was transferred to intensive care. Her white blood cell count just kept rising, despite more antibiotics, and her body was shutting down.

By Sunday noon, it was time to call a priest and make Mom comfortable. With the caring and gentle guidance of the nurses and doctors at Lutheran General, our family decided Mom needed a break from the feeding tube and breathing mask and everything she had fought to remove from her face in the past two days. Barely able to talk, Mom answered yes when I asked if she wanted us to remove the tube that was down her nose.

And then, she was at peace, as, around her bedside, we sang and sang and sang songs that she had cherished, filling the ICU with awful singing and lots of tears. And we prayed and told stories and promised her so many, many things. And thanked her again and again for all she had done for us.