NEW DAY; NEW DIET

Grandma did not get better.  They kept her in the hospital - where it was almost 30 hours before there was even a bed available - and she seemed to be getting good care.  We had stayed with her in the ER until late on Tuesday.  She kept telling us to go home and Nana needed her rest, still recovering from her own illness.  Spending hours in an ER waiting room at this time of the year is hazerdous to one’s health anyway.  She received good care there, but we felt awful leaving her.

Wednesday, she seemed better but tired and confused.  She struggled to talk and was coughing a lot from the pneumonia.  I didn’t go Thursday, but Nana said she was feeling better and had her crank on, which is usually a good sign.  They were going to do some tests that had been overdue while they had her in there, which made sense and meant that they wouldn’t street her before she was recovered.

Friday afternoon I got the call from Mom that they had moved her to ICU and we should come.  It was bad.  She had arrested and with no DNR on file (something we were going to discuss with her “later”) they revived her.  I will spare you the details, but will say that it is not something you want for your elderly loved one.  It might have been different if she were younger, but in this case we wish they had just let her go.  Instead they put her on a respirator and told us to give her 24 hours to see if the brain damage that occurred would reverse itself enough for her to come out of the coma.

It’s odd, the way medical personnel behave.  I’ve had more than enough experience dealing with them lately, thank you, but I’m fascinated by what one can learn just through their actions.  There were three doctors, all of them being hopeful and saying let’s wait and see, give her 24 hours, etc.  Behind each doctor was a nurse shaking her head and looking at us to let us know that the 24 hours would make no difference.  And, in the end, it didn’t.  She was gone as soon as they removed the tubes.

ICU nurses and doctors must be some of the strongest people in the world.  I do not know how they do this every day.  Grandma had one main nurse who was so wonderful and strong and caring and gave wonderful real hugs (not the air hugs that one of her doctors gave).  They were constantly cleaning her up and making her look as normal as possible (which is impossible).  They explained everything and answered all of our questions in the kindest way possible.

On Friday, I was the first to arrive, which was good.  I got time alone with her and was able to prepare my mother.  We offered the Boy his chance to say goodbye and he surprised me by wanting to.  It shook him up because it is not like it is on television.  It is not pretty and clean and rosy-cheeked.  But he has been strong and supportive.

And, me, I am tired.  The arrangements are almost made.  I wish to do nothing but sleep, yet I don’t sleep well.  I worry about my mother and make lists.  We decided that Nana would continue with her scheduled minor surgery tomorrow as it has already been postponed once and we easily worked the funeral around it.

I wasn’t going to write about it, but the words are here inside me, wanting to come out.  I’ve run out of people who care to listen (and who get my twisted black sense of humor), so now is just the waiting and then the getting on with things.

I loved my grandmother very much.  She was the one person in the world who thought I could do no wrong.  Everything I did was a wonder and a thrill for her.  She made sure I was immune to the struggles that would have plagued my childhood had I been aware.  She was a rock for me and I will miss her.