Silent Night

I have plenty to talk about per my last post and future post ideas, but for some reason I have a need to write this one first. There’s a chance I may delete it or make it private after posting it. But I know that deep down, I have an obligation to myself to write these thoughts as they swirl around my head daily.

 

One of the bullets in my last post indicated my grandma passed away since I last blogged. While true, it happened much more recently than many of my other updates. Last month, my mom and I had a trip planned to visit my grandparents, who live in Ohio. My grandma had a nasty fall down her basement stairs back in July. 13 stairs later and a stroke to blame, she was admitted to a rehab hospital to heal. She had many bruises, bumps, a fractured shoulder, and lots of stress on her body. True to her nature, she took it all in stride with a smile and patience. My mom and her brother traveled out there to visit frequently to check in on my grandpa and visit my grandma. Generally, she was healing as expected. Of course there were a few complications. What we thought was a bad reaction to some antibiotics for a cut on her leg, turned out to be an infection to her colon. For a few weeks, Grandma was extremely sick and unable to eat or sleep. Luckily, it passed and many of us didn’t think much more about it. There was one weekend in September that we thought she would be released soon; her color, attitude, and mobility were all doing so well!

 

In late September, we got another call from the rehab hospital letting us know that she was sick again, the same way she was earlier in the year. However, this time, it was worse. I remember having a conversation with my dad where we both questioned in the hospital’s cleanliness and why she was getting sick so much. My mom and I decided to make a trip out there to investigate what was making my dear grandma so sick to her stomach. I was ready to whip out my mean face and urge a transfer. Just as I arranged everything at work and packed up Leia’s things for a weekend with my dad, we got a startling phone call.

 

My grandma had been admitted to the hospital. She was getting extremely dehydrated from being so sick. During routine testing, they found that this “sickness” was the result of a deadly infection, called cdiff. The infection had been eating away at her colon. It was at the point where it needed to be removed for fear that it would kill her. This was especially alarming because of how weak her heart was. My family made the decision at 8:30pm to drop everything and drive out to be with her. Please imagine an overnight drive to Ohio with a year old pitbull in the backseat of my mom’s new SUV.

 

We pulled in around 4am where we found my grandpa asleep. Unsure of what to do, my mom called the hospital where we learned that Grandma and the doctor decided to have the surgery as time was not on her side. She survived the surgery and her heart did great. I think all three of us (and I’m sure Leia, too) sighed a huge sigh of relief. We all stumbled to bed to catch some sleep before Grandpa woke up. Morning came too quickly as he started moving around at 8am. After breakfast, we made a plan to see her in the Cardiac ICU as my uncle still had another 5 or so hours on his drive.

 

I actually can’t remember many of the details of that day. I can’t tell if it’s because of extreme fatigue or that I don’t want to remember what happened. I do recall sitting in the waiting room all day. Only a few people were allowed to go back at a time. She was still unconscious with a breathing tube and many, many IV bags. She wasn’t responding to nurses or family. Before I even went to see her, I felt sick and panicky. Could I really go in there and see her like that? Thankfully, no one forced me to go in until I was ready. And even better than that, my grandpa got her to respond to him after a few hours. I remember going into her room and her nodding and shaking her head to my voice. At one point she squeezed my fingers. I told her some stories and told her that we needed to play our favorite card game while I was in town. I remember she nodded her head and I swear I thought I saw her lips move into a tiny smile. While things were bleak, I think we all left that night with a little bit of hope that she was starting to respond to us and the nurses. I could just feel that she was glad to have us there, especially my mom.

 

I do remember falling asleep rather late that night, poor Leia just had too much energy.  Actually, I believe I drifted off playing fetch with her. Oops. I remember seeing 11:30pm on my phone as I cuddled on the couch with her. Around 3am I heard the house phone ring. Wait, what? Where I am I? Leia jumped up too. I fumbled with the lamp and realized I was still in the basement at my grandparents’ house. And the phone rang? Oh no, that cannot be good. I raced up the stairs to find my mom hanging up the phone. The hospital called and said my grandma’s blood pressure was extremely low and that they were planning on giving her a few more medications to bring it up. Geez, was a phone call to the house at 3am necessary? I crawled back onto my couch and settled Leia in. My heart was still beating but fatigue took me over again…. For 15 minutes. The phone rang again. I didn’t bother getting off the couch this time. I texted my mom to avoid another silly trip upstairs. Her response back to me was “Get dressed.”

 

The four of us rushed the hospital. On 4 of the strongest blood pressure medications, my grandma’s BP was only hovering around 50/30. The nurse didn’t think she was going to last much longer. What? Didn’t we all leave last night in good spirits? Didn’t she squeeze my hand goodnight? How could this happen? We sat with her from 4am until 1:30pm, where she eventually passed away. For those 9 hours, we sat and watched her blood pressure slowly drop. We met with many doctors who told us there was nothing they could do. Her kidneys shut down and weren’t producing anything. Her BP kept dropping. At one point around 5am, her heart stopped and I remembered watching the nurses revive her. Twice. She was responding to us up until the last hour… moving her head and hands. It just didn’t seem real at all.

 

The sun peaked through the clouds around 1:15pm that afternoon. We were all there: my parents, uncle, aunt, grandpa…. We watched the monitor drop to zero. As I even type those words I begin to cry. I don’t think it’s possible to forget that screen or the bright, natural sunlight peeking through the blinds.

 

Was this too much information? Too personal? It may be. Frankly, I don’t care. I have been struggling immensely since September 27. I’ve gone through phases of denial, to extreme sadness, to anger. Everything reminds me of her and it’s very painful to think that a visit that was supposed to be a “fun” one with card playing… that turned into a funeral. The most exhausting and emotional funeral I have ever been a part of. As we picked out caskets, her dress, prayer cards, I couldn’t stop thinking that she won’t be here to see me ever get married, have children, see my house, or be there to talk to. Even today, I need to find a way to work through the emotion and start to move past the pain and anger.

 

Who am I angry at? Well, myself for starters. I didn’t go out to see her once since she fell back in July. I let work take precedence over my family. I didn’t get to see her and hug her and hear her voice. Why did I let myself pass up those trips out there? I could have gotten to talk to her, maybe even urge a facility change earlier to prevent the second infection. I don’t think I can describe what I would do to hear her laugh and to play cards with her around the kitchen table one last time. She was so terrible at shuffling the 2 decks of cards we played with. I am angry at her, too. Why couldn’t she wait for us to get there before surgery? She had to know that we were mere hours away. Why couldn’t she just hang on until we got there to say a proper goodbye? Why does she have to live so far away that I can’t visit her grave site whenever I want or need? Why?

 

I’ve been having nightmares. Well, it’s gotten better the past 2 weeks. I would see the nurses, the crash cart, but most of all her vitals on the screen… slowly dropping to zero. I started to avoid sleeping to avoid having the dreams. I would wake up in tears and feel sick and I didn’t want that anymore. I gave up naps and stayed up as late as possible. I thought if I was SO tired that my body would skip the dreams. This tactic worked for the most part, but other parts of my life started to suffer. I started getting too tired to do a good job at work, and I didn’t have energy to play or walk Leia. So, instead, I started letting Leia sleep with me each night. Before, she was only allowed to on weekends or special circumstances. But now, when I wake up from a bad dream, she is always there to lick my tears away and cuddle with me. I’m not resisting the dreams anymore and they still happen a couple nights a week.

 

As the holidays approach, I fear how I will handle it. I will feel perfectly fine one day but then hear a song on the radio, see an angel ornament, or see her picture and feel very sad. How will Thanksgiving and Christmas go without her? How will it feel not to get a Christmas stocking full of silly Walgreens gifts? How will it feel not to address a Christmas card to her? How will it feel to hear Silent Night, the one Christmas song that would make her cry? Right now, I am pushing those feelings aside as I still struggle with denial and anger. I can only hope by the holidays I have entered acceptance. Acceptance that all of her discomfort is gone and that she is reunited with her mother. Acceptance that she is looking down on us and sending us all of her love.

 

Acceptance that even though I didn’t go out to see her enough, she still loves me. Because I think that is what I struggle with the most.

 

Rest in Eternal Peace, Grandma Dot. I love you.