A Day of Life and Death

It started with a phone call late last night. A friend who had knee surgery was being transferred to another hospital because he's having heart problems. On the way to see him this morning, another call came. The woman I know with the aneurysm had her 2nd aneurysm rupture and she was headed for surgery. So off to one hospital I head. Sit with A's wife for a bit in the waiting room and as we head toward his room, he's heading down the hall to ICU. His wife just about hit the floor. So I stay with her until he is settled and hear the report from the nurse. Nothing terribly serious, but they're wanting to monitor him more closely. Sure! His wife says, the three most terrible words in the English language are, "Intensive Care Unit." They are so cute together, husband and wife. It's obvious they are madly in love with each other after 60+ years of marriage. She leans over and looks in his eye. "Remember what you promised me?" she says with hope and fear in her smile. "Yes, I remember," he smiles back, and every inch of their being is joined in longing, fear and love. They are one, and afraid that they will be torn apart. I watch and wonder how you love someone that much for that long. And I want to cry.

Once that is settled I head out of town to the neurological hospital, or whatever it's called. Get there just after they have taken my friend into surgery. Her husband is white as a sheet. He's been through this before. She was almost past the point of danger of stroke from the last rupture. Now we start counting minutes, hours, days. He sets his watch for the start of surgery and we sit and talk. Talk about the weather. Talk about the surgery. Talk about the other people camped in the waiting area. Talk about hobbies. It matters not. It's passing time. It's distracting the distracted. It's keeping hope alive. (Who am I to keep hope alive? I barely have any!) But it's not about me. It's about her and him and the love and life they share. They have no family except a stray couple of cousins. They have no children. They are each other's life. This is about to kill him. I can see it in his eyes, and the shaky hands that can't hold his coffee cup still.

Today we talk with a friend from the gun club. If you knew me you would wonder how I could possibly participate in this conversation. A pacifist who doesn't believe in owning guns, and that's all we talked about for 2 hours. I can be very good at BS when there's an emergency! I'm thinking, "These guys actually belong to the NRA! An organization I absolutely hate! These guys love their guns. They love guys who love guns. If they only knew about me, the conversation would be over!" But it's not about me. It's about love and fear of loss. It's about life and death. So I share that I used to be really good at rifle in high school. Tell me about skeet shooting? What kind of gun was that? And why do you like it the best? Pretty soon I'm almost signed up for a beginners' class along with my boys. I think, "Well hell, why not? I'm breaking all the other rules for my life. Why not skeet shooting? It would be fun to take the boys. Could I stand to hang with a bunch of NRA members?" Finally I need a break. I go outside for some sunshine and a cigarette.

When I return to the hospital a few more friends have arrived and the surgeon is talking with the husband. Surgery went well, but there was a lot more blood than expected. Her chance of stroke is high. We have to wait. We have to count the successful days until her chance of stroke is past, or she strokes out and they have to figure out how to care for her. It's a torture test. The husband is exhausted. He starts shaking again and sits down. He hasn't slept well for 2 weeks and his sentence has been extended another 2 wks, at least. And then there will be rehab. We encourage. "She's made it this far. She's done great! She'll pull through." Meanwhile everyone knows that a stroke is not like being ill with some disease or infection where being strong makes a difference. A stroke just happens. Damage happens. Strong or weak, changes nothing. But what else do you say? We pray. We stand in a circle holding hands in the waiting room, like thousands before us and pray. I can't lie and I can't believe. And so I pray, using familiar words I've said a thousand times. And somewhere in my depth I try to believe what I am saying. The thing is, no one really knows if you believe what you say in a prayer, or not. At least I hope they can't.

After 3 1/2 hrs, I'm tired and realize I need to head home to care for my children. One is volunteering on the north side of town. Two are at home and all need rides somewhere. I still have to oversee a church program tonight. I head to the valet and wait for my car. Just as I put the car in drive, my phone rings. Another friend, "You need to come see R_ right away. She's going down hill really fast and we don't think she's going to live much longer." AAAAAhhhhh!

So of course I'm one of those dreaded drivers, talking on my cell phone all the way back to town. Making arrangements for kids. Making arrangements for the program. Talking to the almost ex and trying to get him to cooperate with the kid arrangements, which of course he won't, because he is too busy working! That is, he won't help until the youngest asks for a ride to his school function tonight. Then, of course he's available! "Well, then how's he going to get home? Will there be someone to watch him there?" "Oh, I never thought of that." "Of course not," I think, but don't say out loud. So more phone calls and I have it arranged. Call the ex and tell him. He agrees, says thanks, and hangs up on me! The Shit! I am really weary!

Drive back to town. Take 2 kids to their events. Drive to the church. Say "hello." Grab some supper and head to yet another hospital. They're moving her to ICU, the family is in the waiting area. Where have I heard this before???? AAAAhhhh! It's just hard to believe a third group of people is going through such pain. I know this happens every day in the hospitals. But there's a reason I don't work in a hospital. It's not like I can fix anything. I can't prescribe. I cant' treat! Just sit and hold hands, hug, pray, talk, sit some more. Be there. that's all I can do. Prayers don't seem to change anything. They only help them feel better emotionally. I guess that's all I can do. It seems so weak, and yet so important. I don't know if it's worth a bucket of shit or not. I go in to see R___. She says, "I guess I'm dying. That's what it feels like." She said that to me a couple of weeks ago. When someone says that, you listen. People who are dying often know. They just know and they can't tell you why they know. They just do. We talk about how she feels about dying. She says, "I guess there will be angels just like there are here." I don't respond. Don't know how to respond to that. Then she cries, "There are some things I wanted to get done." "Like what?" "Well I guess the furniture doesn't matter." "No the furniture doesn't matter. Let others take care of that." She doesn't say what I know and that is that she has unfinished business with a relative. Someone she needs to contact. I let it go. Her friend talks with her and they make arrangements to take care of that tomorrow morning. Wouldn't surprise me if she's dead the day after tomorrow... once her business is done. But then again, I've known people who wanted to die for months and their bodies wouldn't give up. I hope she gets her way. I hope she finishes what she needs to do and then dies. Of course I still can't figure out what happens after we die. If it's just over. That would suck! For all our sakes I hope that's not true.

I guess that's what bothers me about this whole day. What happens next? How can I keep offering hope, when I don't know? Does it matter if I know or not? They believe what they believe. It would be nice if I didn't feel like I'm lying though. It would be nice to believe again. Was thinking today on the drive that I might actually believe in God and God giving us wisdom. Have had some major "coincidences," lately. But life after death? Hmmm.

So now I have a headache. My jaw has been clenched and my neck is stiff. It sure would be nice to come home to someone who loves me as much as the couples I've seen today. I would give anything to look into someone's eyes and feel that total love I saw this morning. I could use a lot of loving right now. Even someone to make me a cup of tea and say, "Glad you're home, dear." Sigh. Probably won't ever have that. Instead I found out my youngest went off to his school event and no one thought about his supper. At 10pm I'm making him an omelet! Poor neglected child! How did we forget that he needed supper? Damn! I'm a horrible mother! I'm taking care of everyone else except my own children! Sounds like my father who I resent so much. Damn! It's been a long day. If I can jump off this guilt trip train, I think I'll head to bed.

Tomorrow we continue the life and death of dear ones.