Grandparents and the Ordinary Strangeness of Life
Jess and I were hanging out and talking to Pop Pop yesterday when he started to tell us a rather unsettling story. The story-teller in me wants to believe him on this one, but like my mother, I have to dismiss it and call it my grandfather's slipping grip on reality.
He said that he wasn't married twice, but three times. He told us that he had married this unmentioned-until-now woman before he'd met my dad's mother and married her (my dad is the youngest of three, my grandfather having my uncle and aunt by his first wife). He went on to tell us that she'd been decapitated (yes, you read that right...like, off with her head) in some horrible accident.
"She...she was decapitated...in the backyard...the glass cut her neck..."
Jess and I sat there for a moment in bewildered silence. Luckily, at that moment, Mom came upstairs to show Jess some of her old nursing books. Jess related the story to Mom, and Mom immediately said to Pop Pop,
"Fred, you were only married twice, right? You didn't have a third wife, did you?"
"Oh...no." I'm guessing he either shrugged the story off or finally came back to reality. I'm not sure.
***
In other geriatrically related events, I went to go visit my grandmother (mother's mother this time, the sick grandfather is my father's father) at the hospital in Elizabeth. She's still in the ICU and even though she was off the respirator for about five hours earlier in the week, they had to not only put her back on, but they've now given her a trachiotemy (I know that's spelled wrong). I'm really trying to forget about the whole trach thing, since those really creep me out, and I didn't even remember that she had one until I visited her today. My mom says she's not quite stable yet, but her vitals are better.
Basically, the reason she's in the hospital to begin with is because she went into cardiac and respiratory arrest about a week or so ago. Then, when she was at the hospital, she developed subcutaneous emphysema and 3rd spaced. From what my mother (who's a nurse, as inferred above) told Jess and I, what happened was that due to my grandmother's emphysema which she got from smoking and then refused to treat or go to the doctor for with the exception of being on an oxygen tank from about the time I entered high school (maybe even jr. high, I forget), one of the aveoli (that may be spelled wrong too) in her lung ruptured. This rupture released air and this uncontained air found every nook and cranny in between the cells above my grandmother's lungs that it could.
The picture I saw when I entered her hospital room was definitely not something I'd ever expect to see anywhere, except maybe the Sci-Fi Channel. As I mentioned, her upper body is blown up with air, so her hands, arms, chest, and head are all incredibly swollen. Her eyes are shut, with her eyelids about the size of tennis balls. I wish I was exaggerating. Who would ever want his/her grandmother looking like that? I wouldn't, not my grandmother, the beauty queen. She can't move, and she can barely talk, and the only talking she did was fainter than whisper volume. My mom had to relay most of what she said to us.
But, she seemed to smile when she heard that two of her granddaughters (Jess and myself) had come to visit. We took turns holding her hands but after a minute or so of that, she'd softly wave our hands away from hers. My mom explained it away as her being tired and not feeling comfortable because of the rainy weather today. I had to agree.
I sat in a chair at the opposite side of the room for a while, staring at all the machinery whose wires and tubes ended in her body. I kept wishing I could say something more to her. I've always felt at a loss for words around my mother's family and that her family somehow holds me as having some sort of deficit because of it. I kept wishing I had my notebook and a pen on me.
He said that he wasn't married twice, but three times. He told us that he had married this unmentioned-until-now woman before he'd met my dad's mother and married her (my dad is the youngest of three, my grandfather having my uncle and aunt by his first wife). He went on to tell us that she'd been decapitated (yes, you read that right...like, off with her head) in some horrible accident.
"She...she was decapitated...in the backyard...the glass cut her neck..."
Jess and I sat there for a moment in bewildered silence. Luckily, at that moment, Mom came upstairs to show Jess some of her old nursing books. Jess related the story to Mom, and Mom immediately said to Pop Pop,
"Fred, you were only married twice, right? You didn't have a third wife, did you?"
"Oh...no." I'm guessing he either shrugged the story off or finally came back to reality. I'm not sure.
***
In other geriatrically related events, I went to go visit my grandmother (mother's mother this time, the sick grandfather is my father's father) at the hospital in Elizabeth. She's still in the ICU and even though she was off the respirator for about five hours earlier in the week, they had to not only put her back on, but they've now given her a trachiotemy (I know that's spelled wrong). I'm really trying to forget about the whole trach thing, since those really creep me out, and I didn't even remember that she had one until I visited her today. My mom says she's not quite stable yet, but her vitals are better.
Basically, the reason she's in the hospital to begin with is because she went into cardiac and respiratory arrest about a week or so ago. Then, when she was at the hospital, she developed subcutaneous emphysema and 3rd spaced. From what my mother (who's a nurse, as inferred above) told Jess and I, what happened was that due to my grandmother's emphysema which she got from smoking and then refused to treat or go to the doctor for with the exception of being on an oxygen tank from about the time I entered high school (maybe even jr. high, I forget), one of the aveoli (that may be spelled wrong too) in her lung ruptured. This rupture released air and this uncontained air found every nook and cranny in between the cells above my grandmother's lungs that it could.
The picture I saw when I entered her hospital room was definitely not something I'd ever expect to see anywhere, except maybe the Sci-Fi Channel. As I mentioned, her upper body is blown up with air, so her hands, arms, chest, and head are all incredibly swollen. Her eyes are shut, with her eyelids about the size of tennis balls. I wish I was exaggerating. Who would ever want his/her grandmother looking like that? I wouldn't, not my grandmother, the beauty queen. She can't move, and she can barely talk, and the only talking she did was fainter than whisper volume. My mom had to relay most of what she said to us.
But, she seemed to smile when she heard that two of her granddaughters (Jess and myself) had come to visit. We took turns holding her hands but after a minute or so of that, she'd softly wave our hands away from hers. My mom explained it away as her being tired and not feeling comfortable because of the rainy weather today. I had to agree.
I sat in a chair at the opposite side of the room for a while, staring at all the machinery whose wires and tubes ended in her body. I kept wishing I could say something more to her. I've always felt at a loss for words around my mother's family and that her family somehow holds me as having some sort of deficit because of it. I kept wishing I had my notebook and a pen on me.