Resurfacing
I've made a solemn vow to myself: to update more than once a month and to write about more meaningful things.
Two weeks ago, my husband's maternal grandmother had a heart attack. "No big deal" we thought, she's had a few of them on top of a half-dozen strokes. Each time she's been hospitalized, she's released in full recovery after 3 or 4 days. This time she was sent back to her care home only to suffer a massive stroke one week later.
Grandma, being in her eighties, felt she had led a full life and thus had a "DNR" order drawn up not too long ago. Those were her wishes. Wishes that felt so reluctantly hard to abide by. The stroke caused her to become legally blind in both eyes along with paralysis on her left side. She was kept alive by the O2 and pain medication.
This happened 2 weeks ago.
I visited her on Wednesday the 29th after my shift ended at 1:30 am. I found her room located right across from the nurses' station. I peeked my head in, and luckily the curtain wasn't drawn but I feared I had the wrong room. From what my eye could see was a sight comparable to that of a male concentration camp survivor. I embarrassingly backed out and met the eye of a nurse passing by. "Are you looking for Caryl?" she asked. "Yes." .....and then came words I didn't want to hear..."You have the right room."
Inside I found my mother-in-law dozing uncomfortably in a pull-out-pleather chair. She woke to me standing there and for the next 45 minutes or so we talked, hugged, and I sat at her mom's bedside holding her hand. I told her that I loved her and was glad to be a part of her family. My mother-in-law and I cried some more then I went home.
I visited again Thursday afternoon prior to work. My husband called me while I was on my way to the hospital. He told me the prognosis was worse adn that he would meet me there. I rushed to her room and sat with his parents. He arrived shortly and we spoke to Caryl once more. This time her chin quivered when we spoke. We were hoping that she had indeed heard us and knew that we loved her...
She passed on Sunday 10/02 at 6:02 am. She was okay with dying. And although we all know she's at peace now, it's been so tremendously hard these past days. It's made me confront mortality, and I have a problem with that. I've decided to seek religious counsel. I've felt particularly lost, lonely, and scared. Being a total control freak doesn't help either. But the time is right - there's a spiritual void I need to fill and I feel comfortable admitting it.
Two weeks ago, my husband's maternal grandmother had a heart attack. "No big deal" we thought, she's had a few of them on top of a half-dozen strokes. Each time she's been hospitalized, she's released in full recovery after 3 or 4 days. This time she was sent back to her care home only to suffer a massive stroke one week later.
Grandma, being in her eighties, felt she had led a full life and thus had a "DNR" order drawn up not too long ago. Those were her wishes. Wishes that felt so reluctantly hard to abide by. The stroke caused her to become legally blind in both eyes along with paralysis on her left side. She was kept alive by the O2 and pain medication.
This happened 2 weeks ago.
I visited her on Wednesday the 29th after my shift ended at 1:30 am. I found her room located right across from the nurses' station. I peeked my head in, and luckily the curtain wasn't drawn but I feared I had the wrong room. From what my eye could see was a sight comparable to that of a male concentration camp survivor. I embarrassingly backed out and met the eye of a nurse passing by. "Are you looking for Caryl?" she asked. "Yes." .....and then came words I didn't want to hear..."You have the right room."
Inside I found my mother-in-law dozing uncomfortably in a pull-out-pleather chair. She woke to me standing there and for the next 45 minutes or so we talked, hugged, and I sat at her mom's bedside holding her hand. I told her that I loved her and was glad to be a part of her family. My mother-in-law and I cried some more then I went home.
I visited again Thursday afternoon prior to work. My husband called me while I was on my way to the hospital. He told me the prognosis was worse adn that he would meet me there. I rushed to her room and sat with his parents. He arrived shortly and we spoke to Caryl once more. This time her chin quivered when we spoke. We were hoping that she had indeed heard us and knew that we loved her...
She passed on Sunday 10/02 at 6:02 am. She was okay with dying. And although we all know she's at peace now, it's been so tremendously hard these past days. It's made me confront mortality, and I have a problem with that. I've decided to seek religious counsel. I've felt particularly lost, lonely, and scared. Being a total control freak doesn't help either. But the time is right - there's a spiritual void I need to fill and I feel comfortable admitting it.