Sunday, October 2 (evening)—My Gramma fell onto the cement while trying to get out of my aunts van. As many of you know, you could ask Doris to stay put & tell her you’d be right back, but if she felt the need to do otherwise during your absence, she wouldn’t think twice about going on with her business, & would proceed. She loved the freedom & ability to do things on her own—& she never lost the spark for seeking out the times when she had the opportunity to do so.
Monday, October 3—I spoke to my Dad & he filled me in on what happened the day before. I didn’t think too much of it since he said she was talking like normal, etc. But they had taken her to the hospital--& if I remember correctly, had found out she had a stroke & there was bleeding on the brain. As my dad & I went about our conversation, I remained positive—I guess I didn’t think it was possible for her not to be okay…& from what I was hearing him say, it sounded as if she was going to be. I did pick up on him being a little quieter than normal, but dismissed it. He can be very quiet at times.
If you know my dad, you know that most of the time, he’s a man of few words—it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have anything to say, he just likes to think about stuff. One-on-one conversations with him are very insightful & engaging. Get him talking about something that he has a passion for & he’ll knock your socks off with his knowledge on the subject & convey a perspective most would never consider exploring. One thing that is always constant—his sense of humor. It’s…odd, it’s funny, & people may hesitate because it’s soooo outside of the box—but they usually have a big grin on their face once they get it---& then he’s on a roll & will continue to make you & himself laugh.
Thinking back on it, his sense of humor was the one piece missing during that conversation. I had tried to make a few jokes with him & there was no budging. The only other time I can remember this happening is when my black lab, Sydney died while I was living in Denver. He said over the phone, “Syd’s gone” & I responded with a joke referring to her aged hips—“Where’d she go Dad? She can’t get that far…” …again, no budge. …then I realized what he was trying to say.
Tuesday, October 4-—Tuesday started out normal. I went to work & then to yoga afterwards. It was at the studio, while I was talking to my Aunt Laurie that I realized my Gramma’s fall was a serious matter. My conversation with my Dad then made sense.
After yoga, Laurie & I decided to go to the hospital to visit my Gramma—despite the fact that we’d just sweat for 75 minutes straight. We were sure she’d be just excited to see us as much as we were excited to see her, sweaty clothes & all!
When we got there, my Aunt Nancy was talking on the phone in the hall. She hung up & gave us a report on how my Gramma was—she was doing well, still talking, a little discouraged, but coherent. She was resting when we walked in—so, as a family---Nancy, Bernie, Laurie, & myself just carried on normal conversations, joking & laughing while the TV was tuned into two teams battling to make it to World Series.
My Gramma woke up a little while after we had filled the room with our liveliness. Unfortunately, when she did, she was unable to speak. She was trying, but we would soon find out that she was having a seizure. We called for a nurse. The nurses came in & did what they could to provide comfort. Nancy & I prayed over my Gramma, while Laurie contacted my Aunt Janet who was on her way back to the hospital, after spending all day there, to provide her with an update. While I prayed, I felt as though my Grampa was watching over us & saying “Take care of her, that’s my bride.”
Several nurses came in & out of the room over the next several hours. They gave her seizure & blood pressure meds. My Gramma’s blood pressure was the highest in the hospital at one point—which constituted for additional attention. We joked with her despite her inability to respond—she was our “over-acheiver”.
My Dad arrived around midnight. Nancy & Bernie had either just left or were about to head out. My Gramma was finally resting & her blood pressure was steadily lowering. Laurie, Janet, & myself were going through the bags of candy Janet had brought & snacking on the spicy chicken fill & chips my Dad contributed upon his arrival. The three of us girls decided to make use of the paper & markers we had at our fingertips to have our own “HArt Prize” (Hospital Art Prize). Laurie & I started coloring & Janet made a beeline for privacy to complete her masterpiece…
At 1:05am, Laurie posted the 1st Prize & Runner Up announcement amongst our drawings on the cabinets in front of my Grammas hospital bed—with a disclaimer that read: **HArt Prize judging at 1am—All entries must be present to win.
We kissed my Gramma goodbye & ventured to say good night to Janet—who we found in one of the family areas…with a magazine picture of flowers that looked similar to the one traced on Janet’s paper--& some instant-coffee grounds smushed into the paper for “color & texture”.
…that is why my family makes me smile. : )
