Aunt Laura
Meh. I feel as though I should update my live journal in case anyone is wondering where I have disappeared to over break.
My totally awesome Aunt Laura took a nosedive in her apartment a few days before Christmas. For anyone who hasn't heard me raving about how cool Aunt Laura is, she is my incredibly cool, 103.5-year-old kickass great great aunt. No joke, she's really 103-and-a-half.
There are several things that make Aunt Laura cool. The most obvious thing is that she's still alive at 103 years of age. Not only is she alive, but she still lives in her own apartment in an assisted living facility in Livonia. She's usually in really good health; she navigated the halls of the old folks home requiring only the help of a walker, equipped with custom-made tennis balls to keep it from slipping on the cafeteria floor, and she got around so well that at 103, she was pushing the 70-year-olds around in their wheelchairs and making fun of them, calling them "spring chickens" compared to her. Don't get me wrong; Aunt Laura was never mean. She's really sweet and hilarious, which is another reason why she's so fricking cool. Everybody at the old folks home loves her so much they all call her Grandma. She has a great sense of humor, and she would frequently tell me that she was going to race me in the 50-yard-dash in her walker when I would gripe at her and tell her to slow down because she would practically drag-race up our driveway when she'd come over to visit. She would probably put up some stiff competition for 50-yard-walker-dash. I know she could at least win some dance competitions. Aunt Laura can dance really well with her walker. I know because I was at the old folks Christmas party last year, and she really knows how to shake her booty.
In addition to being amazingly healthy, really nice, surprisingly non-cranky for an old geezer, and really funny, Aunt Laura always amazed me with her intelligence. A lot of old people get kind of demented and confused. Aunt Laura always amazed us with her astonishing clarity of thought. She took her own medicine. She scheduled her own haircuts and doctors' appointments. Other than trouble remembering a name here or there, I think Aunt Laura has it more together than I do some days.
Although she's really my Aunt, Aunt Laura has always kind of been a grandma to me. My one grandma was kind of mean to my mom, so we didn't talk to her much. My other grandma, the one who started me on playing the piano,was wonderful, and she died when I was nine. So, Aunt Laura really has been my surrogate grandma for many years. I came to appreciate her awesome sense of humor and her very cool old person stories (which are actually interesting rather than boring as all hell like most old person stories) on my frequent visits over to her place.
Sorry, I digress in my story of the coolness of Aunt Laura. Like I said, she took a tumble a few days before Christmas. They took her to St. Mary's Hospital, the place in Livonia where I was born. Aunt Laura seemed a little shaken but not stirred in the ER. Her CAT scans were normal, but the bad news was that she broke her upper arm during her fall. They wouldn't operate on anyone much older than sixty, so Aunt Laura was out of the question; she'd have to have her arm in a sling, and use a wheelchair until her arm healed. Much to our surprise, the hospital discharged Aunt Laura rather than admitting her. So, we sent her back to her assisted living apartment with people checking in on her every 2 hours to make sure that she wasn't trying to pull any crazy stunts like getting out of her wheelchair when we weren't visiting.
Well, unfortunately, that's exactly what Aunt Laura did. I can't really blame her; she's really independent, and I'm sure I'll be equally stubborn and independent when I'm a geezer. She fell out of her wheelchair again, and was taken back to the hospital. When I got there, it was really upsetting; she looked really confused and was just staring out into space and not talking. I thought she had a stroke, and that she was pretty much done. It was really upsetting. However, the doctors told us, "No strokes showed up on the CAT scan. She's just confused because she has a mild infection and is really dehydrated. We'll admit her, give her fluids and antibiotics, and she'll be fine in a couple of days."
Once Aunt Laura started talking, she was complaining that her head hurt and her hip hurt. I asked the doctor, "Has her hip been x-rayed?" He assured me it had been taken care of. Thus, began the seemingly long saga of Aunt Laura's stay in the hospital. She's been pretty confused most of the time; at first they blamed the dehydration, and then they blamed the pain meds she was on for her arm, and then they blamed the antibiotics she was on, and now that those are all done, they don't know what to attribute it to, and neither do we. It's kind of sad to see someone who is usually so sharp be so bewildered and confused.
Christmas morning, she had a few hours of extreme clarity where we had our old Aunt Laura back. She was able to sit up in a chair in the room and open presents. We got her a really fuzzy sparkly pink scarf (pink is her favorite color). She put it on and said, "Well, don't I just look like a rich bitch now?" Hehe, I love Aunt Laura. I think that was kind of a Christmas gift to all of us, because before and since then, she's been pretty out of it.
Tonight the bomb dropped. An orthopedic specialist visited Aunt Laura today to check up on her arm, and he noticed that one of her legs looked shorter than the other. He ordered x-rays. That's when we found out that Aunt Laura's hip is broken, on the same side as her broken arm. The head of her femur is snapped clean off. The doctor said we really have two options: not operate, and she will be bedridden for the rest of her life, which will probably be short and have no quality because she will get bedsores and pneumonia and deteriorate. Or, we could operate on her. Tomorrow. And put her in rehab. And give her a chance. We asked, what are the chances of a 103-year-old surviving a major surgery like that? He was pretty optimistic. Then again, they were optimistic at the start that her only problem was dehydration, so I'm not sure I believe him.
Aunt Laura was really confused again tonight. My mom asked her what she wanted to do, and she said go for the surgery, but she's not really lucid enough to weigh the decisions. My mom has power of attorney for these types of situations, so the decision rests on her ultimately, and really, the rest of the family has been involved too. Everyone's initial reaction was, put someone who is 103 through surgery? Are you insane? That was definitely my first reaction. But then, when you think about it, the alternative is doing nothing, and pretty much letting her decline. With the surgery, she has a hope of getting better, even though it is a very small one. With surgery, she has a chance, and we all decided that we should give her that chance, and leave the rest in God's hands.
So, Aunt Laura's surgery is sometime tomorrow afternoon. Leaving her after visiting her tonight was really hard, because I know there is a substantial chance that this was the last time I might ever see her alive. I keep saying prayers that when it's her time to pass, that she can go peacefully and painlessly. As scared as I am that I'll never get to hug her again, if she passes during surgery, it would be painless and peaceful. We all agreed that if Auntie was lucid right now, she would want us to give her the best chance of a good quality of life that we can give her. I told her I loved her and kissed her when I left, and she said "I love you too." So, even if she couldn't remember who I was, she knows she's loved by somebody.
I guess if you're a religious person, say a prayer for her?
I hope if I ever live to be anywhere near 103, I'm still that frigging cool. Aunt Laura has just always been an inspiration to anyone fortunate enough to meet her. I know God has a spot waiting for her in heaven. And the decor probably involves a lot of pink. Man, I love that old lady.
Goodnight.
My totally awesome Aunt Laura took a nosedive in her apartment a few days before Christmas. For anyone who hasn't heard me raving about how cool Aunt Laura is, she is my incredibly cool, 103.5-year-old kickass great great aunt. No joke, she's really 103-and-a-half.
There are several things that make Aunt Laura cool. The most obvious thing is that she's still alive at 103 years of age. Not only is she alive, but she still lives in her own apartment in an assisted living facility in Livonia. She's usually in really good health; she navigated the halls of the old folks home requiring only the help of a walker, equipped with custom-made tennis balls to keep it from slipping on the cafeteria floor, and she got around so well that at 103, she was pushing the 70-year-olds around in their wheelchairs and making fun of them, calling them "spring chickens" compared to her. Don't get me wrong; Aunt Laura was never mean. She's really sweet and hilarious, which is another reason why she's so fricking cool. Everybody at the old folks home loves her so much they all call her Grandma. She has a great sense of humor, and she would frequently tell me that she was going to race me in the 50-yard-dash in her walker when I would gripe at her and tell her to slow down because she would practically drag-race up our driveway when she'd come over to visit. She would probably put up some stiff competition for 50-yard-walker-dash. I know she could at least win some dance competitions. Aunt Laura can dance really well with her walker. I know because I was at the old folks Christmas party last year, and she really knows how to shake her booty.
In addition to being amazingly healthy, really nice, surprisingly non-cranky for an old geezer, and really funny, Aunt Laura always amazed me with her intelligence. A lot of old people get kind of demented and confused. Aunt Laura always amazed us with her astonishing clarity of thought. She took her own medicine. She scheduled her own haircuts and doctors' appointments. Other than trouble remembering a name here or there, I think Aunt Laura has it more together than I do some days.
Although she's really my Aunt, Aunt Laura has always kind of been a grandma to me. My one grandma was kind of mean to my mom, so we didn't talk to her much. My other grandma, the one who started me on playing the piano,was wonderful, and she died when I was nine. So, Aunt Laura really has been my surrogate grandma for many years. I came to appreciate her awesome sense of humor and her very cool old person stories (which are actually interesting rather than boring as all hell like most old person stories) on my frequent visits over to her place.
Sorry, I digress in my story of the coolness of Aunt Laura. Like I said, she took a tumble a few days before Christmas. They took her to St. Mary's Hospital, the place in Livonia where I was born. Aunt Laura seemed a little shaken but not stirred in the ER. Her CAT scans were normal, but the bad news was that she broke her upper arm during her fall. They wouldn't operate on anyone much older than sixty, so Aunt Laura was out of the question; she'd have to have her arm in a sling, and use a wheelchair until her arm healed. Much to our surprise, the hospital discharged Aunt Laura rather than admitting her. So, we sent her back to her assisted living apartment with people checking in on her every 2 hours to make sure that she wasn't trying to pull any crazy stunts like getting out of her wheelchair when we weren't visiting.
Well, unfortunately, that's exactly what Aunt Laura did. I can't really blame her; she's really independent, and I'm sure I'll be equally stubborn and independent when I'm a geezer. She fell out of her wheelchair again, and was taken back to the hospital. When I got there, it was really upsetting; she looked really confused and was just staring out into space and not talking. I thought she had a stroke, and that she was pretty much done. It was really upsetting. However, the doctors told us, "No strokes showed up on the CAT scan. She's just confused because she has a mild infection and is really dehydrated. We'll admit her, give her fluids and antibiotics, and she'll be fine in a couple of days."
Once Aunt Laura started talking, she was complaining that her head hurt and her hip hurt. I asked the doctor, "Has her hip been x-rayed?" He assured me it had been taken care of. Thus, began the seemingly long saga of Aunt Laura's stay in the hospital. She's been pretty confused most of the time; at first they blamed the dehydration, and then they blamed the pain meds she was on for her arm, and then they blamed the antibiotics she was on, and now that those are all done, they don't know what to attribute it to, and neither do we. It's kind of sad to see someone who is usually so sharp be so bewildered and confused.
Christmas morning, she had a few hours of extreme clarity where we had our old Aunt Laura back. She was able to sit up in a chair in the room and open presents. We got her a really fuzzy sparkly pink scarf (pink is her favorite color). She put it on and said, "Well, don't I just look like a rich bitch now?" Hehe, I love Aunt Laura. I think that was kind of a Christmas gift to all of us, because before and since then, she's been pretty out of it.
Tonight the bomb dropped. An orthopedic specialist visited Aunt Laura today to check up on her arm, and he noticed that one of her legs looked shorter than the other. He ordered x-rays. That's when we found out that Aunt Laura's hip is broken, on the same side as her broken arm. The head of her femur is snapped clean off. The doctor said we really have two options: not operate, and she will be bedridden for the rest of her life, which will probably be short and have no quality because she will get bedsores and pneumonia and deteriorate. Or, we could operate on her. Tomorrow. And put her in rehab. And give her a chance. We asked, what are the chances of a 103-year-old surviving a major surgery like that? He was pretty optimistic. Then again, they were optimistic at the start that her only problem was dehydration, so I'm not sure I believe him.
Aunt Laura was really confused again tonight. My mom asked her what she wanted to do, and she said go for the surgery, but she's not really lucid enough to weigh the decisions. My mom has power of attorney for these types of situations, so the decision rests on her ultimately, and really, the rest of the family has been involved too. Everyone's initial reaction was, put someone who is 103 through surgery? Are you insane? That was definitely my first reaction. But then, when you think about it, the alternative is doing nothing, and pretty much letting her decline. With the surgery, she has a hope of getting better, even though it is a very small one. With surgery, she has a chance, and we all decided that we should give her that chance, and leave the rest in God's hands.
So, Aunt Laura's surgery is sometime tomorrow afternoon. Leaving her after visiting her tonight was really hard, because I know there is a substantial chance that this was the last time I might ever see her alive. I keep saying prayers that when it's her time to pass, that she can go peacefully and painlessly. As scared as I am that I'll never get to hug her again, if she passes during surgery, it would be painless and peaceful. We all agreed that if Auntie was lucid right now, she would want us to give her the best chance of a good quality of life that we can give her. I told her I loved her and kissed her when I left, and she said "I love you too." So, even if she couldn't remember who I was, she knows she's loved by somebody.
I guess if you're a religious person, say a prayer for her?
I hope if I ever live to be anywhere near 103, I'm still that frigging cool. Aunt Laura has just always been an inspiration to anyone fortunate enough to meet her. I know God has a spot waiting for her in heaven. And the decor probably involves a lot of pink. Man, I love that old lady.
Goodnight.