After 5 hospitals and a 41-day coma, Buchanan teen survives COVID and walks at graduation

At age 17, Hannah Blumka passed nearly two months in a medical sleep, hooked up to drug-releasing computer panels and contraptions that looked like garden hoses that pumped her blood.

Then she crested another milestone of COVID survival in a Grand Rapids, Michigan hospital. The Buchanan teenager, who was preparing to act in a school play a few months earlier, moved to a smaller tracheotomy in her throat. One more step to losing the ventilator completely. And regaining her voice.

Kate Armstrong came to check on her the next day, feeling hopeful. As a medical language speech pathologist who specializes in kids, she was working to get Hannah’s vocal cords to heal from trauma, from so many emergency intubations as the medical team fought more than the usual number of complications, like infections, leaky lungs, pneumonia and a pulmonary embolism.

The flap of vocal tissue was stuck in the open position. It helps us to safely toggle between eating, breathing and swallowing. If it failed, food and even spit could sneak down Hannah’s windpipe, sparking infections — and put her back to square one of survival, Armstrong said, adding, “You can essentially start it all over again.”

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But there the theater-loving kid sat, telling Armstrong, “Oh yeah, didn’t you hear? They had to put in a bigger trache.”

Armstrong’s heart sank at the thought of another step backward — at least for the couple of minutes that Hannah let the fib linger. Then Hannah said, “April fools.”

“That’s how she was nonstop,” Amstrong recalled. Not just on that April 1. “She was sassy with people all the time.”

Stuck in a meeting one day, Armstrong arrived late to see her — and for the next two weeks Hannah razzed her, “Oh, are you gonna forget me again?”

Humor. It was the 18-year-old's way of digesting the reality of COVID-19, which had hospitalized her, her brother Logan, who’s two years younger, and their grandma all at the same time last December.

Ironically, their grandma, Ruth Arend, has lupus, a chronic disease that causes the immune system to attack healthy tissue, and left the hospital after just a few days. She would be the one who’d regularly check on the house where Hannah, Logan and their mom, Tina Blumka, lived — as Hannah and her mom wouldn’t see it for almost five months in Grand Rapids. Grandma would also take care of Logan at her home after his one-week spell in the hospital.

“I shed a lot of tears,” Hannah said, sitting at home with her mom on June 1 and reflecting. “And now, I’ve learned from it.”

The ordeal would push her to moments of depression and even guilt. Why did a kid like her have to get so sick? And become reliant on other people to help her with the most basic things, like eating? And was this her own fault? No one, really, knew exactly how she’d gotten infected.

Yet, on May 27, Hannah rose from her wheelchair for just a few steps in front of family and classmates at Buchanan High School as she grasped her walker — just long enough to collect her diploma. She beamed. Another hospital-borne dream was accomplished.

Atop her graduation cap, she’d made a sign that read “I am The Storm.” The words come from a popular literary quote, often credited to author Jake Remington: “Fate whispers to the warrior, 'You cannot withstand the storm.’ The warrior whispers back, 'I am the storm.’”

'Buchanan loves you'

Hannah's journey of five hospitals in 156 days started in mid-December with a trip to the emergency room at Lakeland Hospital in Niles. Within hours, she was sent to the pediatric ICU at Beacon Children’s Hospital in South Bend where, early on, a doctor said that Hannah “might not go home again.”

A couple of days later, in a medically induced coma, Hannah was flying on a helicopter to Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids, where a machine promised the advanced care that her ailing lungs needed.

Logan was also in Beacon’s pediatric ICU at the time. But their mom, Tina Blumka, already couldn’t see them both, thanks to the need to keep separate because of the COVID risks.

And then, as Hannah flew to Grand Rapids, Tina recalled: “I had to leave him (Logan) and go with her. It was awful.”

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Christmas approached. As soon as Hannah arrived at DeVos, she was placed on ECMO, or extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, a contraption with large tubes that sends a patient’s blood to a machine that serves as her lungs, adding oxygen and warming the blood, then sending it back to her body.

She would stay on the ECMO machine for 41 days while in a medically induced coma.

“I thank God for it every day because without it I don’t think she would have made it,” Tina said.

Eventually Hannah moved to the nearby Spectrum Health Meijer Heart Center because of her heart and lung issues. Tina landed a room in the Renucci Hospitality House for people who have loved ones in care.

Tina turned to her faith. Her regular blog about their journey at CaringBridge.org is laced with hopeful Bible verses. One day, she asked for prayers since Hannah was “in a lot of pain and it’s breaking my mama heart to see her suffer.” She quoted ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:6:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” 

She tried to bridge the physical separation that, at one point, had her wear a robe, mask and gloves whenever she was with Hannah. Contact with other families was limited, too, but Tina befriended a woman whose husband also fought COVID-19 — he ultimately died.

Hannah “was pretty out of it” until the sedation meds were lifted in February. She’d open her eyes every now and then or give a thumbs-up to a question. It was like drifting through a dream phase. But she was aware of the big banner in her room, reading “Buchanan loves you,” that the Buchanan schools students and staff had created over Christmas break, along with several cards and tissue-paper flowers.

She sensed it as her mom read the fantasy novel “The Lightning Thief” to her and as staff played musicals on TV or the tunes from her favorite musical, “Hamilton.” And she agreed to a deal that was bartered by a sports-loving ECMO technician, who was among the staff who had to be with her 24/7: They’d watch the Super Bowl together if they’d also watch the musical “In the Heights.”

When she awoke from the coma, her mom repeated many of the things that had happened. Medical realities aside, Hannah tried to grasp how it wasn’t Christmastime anymore and why, of all things, it took her another couple of weeks to learn that actress Betty White had died back in December.

Without her voice, Hannah mouthed questions or used her left hand to spell them out on someone’s hand.

The fighter

In March, Hannah stabilized enough that she transferred to the neighboring Mary Free Bed Rehabilitation Hospital and began physical, occupational and speech therapy. When she arrived, she was using a ventilator 24/7, had trouble speaking and couldn’t walk at all.

A long spell in intensive care, plus infections and trauma like Hannah had experienced, can risk long-term damage to limbs and their nerves, known as critical illness myopathy or neuropathy, according to Dr. Marianne Mousigian, the primary doctor who oversaw her rehab at Mary Free Bed.

Rehab would be critical. But Hannah had to slip back to the cardiac hospital a couple of times. Among other complications, Mousigian said, there were skin infections from the gastronomy tube that sent nourishment to Hannah’s stomach.

The doctor, who met Hannah while she was still on a ventilator, was struck by her “willingness to try anything.”

“She never gave up, and she was always willing to problem solve,” the doctor said.

“I saw her fight through a lot of dark days,” Armstrong, her speech pathologist, said. “She didn’t want to go home on any life support. From the beginning, she said, ‘I’m going to walk out of here.’ … That girl worked hard.”

Tina took lots of photos, even at grim stages, and filled a journal the staff had given her. She would often share the words and photos with Hannah, especially on discouraging days, so she could remember the progress she’d made.

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But, also while at Mary Free Bed, Hannah also started classes through Buchanan’s virtual academy so that, after an 8-hour day of therapy, she’d pack in two to three hours of school. This is the same girl who’d normally sketch when she should have been doing work in school – yeah, the art-loving gal who’d sung in a school choir and once played the flute.

A recreational therapist got her to make art — including the sun and sky she painted on an old vinyl record — to help regain use of her hands.

And Hannah played odd games with staff. Her rules: If they lost, they’d have to drink the never-popular thickened fluids she had to gulp for her swallowing issues.

Back home

Hannah and her mom returned home May 18 to life’s simplest pleasures, like the savory taste of their own home-cooked spaghetti and the sight of their dog Hades and Avia the South African sideneck turtle, along with wheelchair strolls through town.

Strangers came up to Tina in the grocery store to say, “We’ve been following your story,” and “We’re praying for you.”

Hannah’s graduation ceremony put a cap on her hospital ordeals. Dr. Mousigian was sweetly surprised to see photos of Hannah standing, beaming and collecting her diploma. The doctor recalled that, through weeks of rehab, that level of movement “was not a guarantee in my mind.”

Hannah continues to deal with significant nerve damage that gives her a numb, pins-and-needles feeling to the fingers and thumb of her right hand and below her knee. She has been making slight improvements at home while she spends at least twice a week in St. Joseph for a combination of physical, occupational and speech therapy — trips that will continue through the summer.

“I have no doubt that it is going to progress,” Dr. Mousigian said of that recovery. She expects “significant progress” over the many months ahead but can’t predict how far Hannah’s body will overcome the nerve damage.

On June 1, one of Tina’s friends from Granger Community Church brought an electric scooter that her dad and grandpa had used. Hannah was tickled. With her own electric drive, she regained more freedom. She now uses it to buzz downtown with her friends to visit the ice cream shop or the farmers’ market.

This fall, she plans to start classes at Southwestern Michigan College for graphic arts, though she’s also thinking about fashion design and photography. The first semester will be online. If she can get physically independent enough, she’d like to attend in-person classes in her second semester.

In June, Tina returned to her job after a half-year away, though part time so she can still help Hannah.

Just recently, they made a mother-daughter trip for two nights to see “Hamilton” in Louisville, a chance to stay in a hotel, have dinner and, Tina said, “celebrate life.”

'Take COVID seriously'

Kids from birth to age 17 make up about 17.5% of all COVID-19 cases across the country, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control.

Hannah was among at least 12 youths and 424 adults that have come to Mary Free Bed as they rehabbed from hospitalization for COVID-19 through the pandemic.

No one knows exactly how or where Hannah got COVID. She was regularly going to school and had been working since last spring at McDonald’s. The family can only assume she may have transmitted it to her brother and grandma since they’d spent a lot of time together Christmas shopping.

Hannah’s friends had gotten COVID, too, though she’d never seen them get sick.

Tina said she’d vaccinated herself since she works in a drug store among the public and also to protect her mom. But, at the time, she’d opted against vaccinating her kids.

“I was afraid I’d make a decision that would affect them 20 years down the road,” she said, thinking of the speculation many people had that the vaccine itself could have lingering effects.

But, with hindsight, Tina said one nurse put it perfectly: “Getting your child vaccinated now could be the difference between worrying about what would happen to them and not having them at all.”

“I never thought that, by not making that decision, I may not have them for 20 years,” Tina added. “You can’t look backwards; you can only look forwards.”

Now, more of Tina’s family have gotten themselves vaccinated.

Hannah herself was vaccinated for COVID-19 this spring at Mary Free Bed. Logan will be vaccinated soon, now that his liver enzyme levels have finally calmed down — having recovered from a leftover effect of COVID.

“Take COVID seriously,” Hannah advised in her softened voice, “and love your loved ones more than you think. ... If you can tell something’s wrong, you need to go to a doctor. For people who don’t believe in COVID, they need to open their eyes.”

“We’re a pretty positive family,” Tina added. “We have a strong faith. Out of it, I think we gained more than we lost.”

Find Tribune staff writer Joseph Dits on Facebook at SBTOutdoorAdventures or 574-235-6158 or jdits@sbtinfo.com.

This article originally appeared on South Bend Tribune: Buchanan teen survives debilitating long COVID with humor, strength