Another Monday is here. I don't know why but this month has passed by quickly. Didn't I just turn in the July monthly report?
I noticed that some of my posts on here, besides being few and far between, are about getting older. So I should probably just get over it and change the subject. It's hard to do this when your friends parents are dying all around you. I just heard of another classmate whose mother died this past weekend. I post these things on our class web site and it seems nearly everything on the news board is bad news. Well, maybe not. There's been a few grandchildren born lately and we have some classmates who continue to be outstanding in their respective fields.
Speaking of grandchildren, can I talk about them? This may be considered a "getting older" topic but I don't have any yet. I wasn't ready in my forties when my other classmates began to have theirs, but I'm ready now. I even look the part. I quit dying my hair when I moved from Baton Rouge. The college coed routine is hard to pull off now. Besides, why pay someone to color your hair when God frosted it for free? (Do they still say "frosted" when talking about dying hair, or does this date me, too?) I've also been pondering names to be called by my future grandchild.
Next month we will have Grandparents Day. In honor grandmothers everywhere, here is a poem I read one time about grandmothers.
In the dim and distant past
When life's tempo wasn't fast
Grandma used to rock and knit
Crochet, tat, and babysit
When the kids were in a jam
They could always count on Gram
In the age of gracious living
Grandma was the gal for giving
Grandma now is in the gym
Exercising to keep slim
She's out touring with the bunch
Taking clients out to lunch
Driving north to ski or curl
All her days are in a whirl
Nothing seems to stop or block her
Now that Grandma's off her rocker.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
My Mother
Mother has been sick the past few weeks. Yes, she's been ill in the past, but this time was different. Why? It's difficult to explain. She has fought cancer not once but TWICE and has beaten it both times. She nursed my daddy when he was dying of lung cancer. So yes, we've been down some rocky roads before, but one night in ICU changed our thinking. Reality came knocking on our door even louder.
We sat there with our eyes glued to the monitor. Every time the blood pressure cuff activated, we held our breath. Her blood pressure little by little keep inching lower. The nurse called us aside and said she needed to ask us some questions. There were papers to be signed. When a patient's blood pressure gets below a certain point, they need to have answers. To questions you don't want to answer, but you must. Life support--yes or no? Then there were three letters you don't want to see: DNR. Do Not Resusitate. It was standard procedure. No, it wasn't. Not for us. Not for my mother. We signed the papers.
At that moment I had to start thinking differently. It was a turning point in my life. What if she didn't come back home? How would all our lives change? But I wanted to be like Scarlet O'Hara and think about that tomorrow. I didn't want to face it but the thought keep staring at me and I couldn't avoid it. I had to get back to her ICU room.
The nurses and doctors worked to bring the pressure back up and she survived the crisis but not without a lot of tense moments. We held our breath again each time the monitor refreshed. At one point her blood pressure was 50/17.
Somebody prayed us through it. She made it. Thank you, Jesus. He helped her but He also reminded me one day I will have to be ready to give her back to Him.
I realized that there is no one on this earth who remembers my grandfather like she does. If she were gone, I wouldn't have anyone to reminisce with about the good times. My brothers were little when he died and they don't have the memories that I have. They both bear his name, but they didn't know him like I did, even though I was only eight years old at the time. Now I can't even remember what his voice was like.
When she's gone, I'll go to the head of the family line. I will no longer be in the autumn of my years. The season will change, as it should.
We sat there with our eyes glued to the monitor. Every time the blood pressure cuff activated, we held our breath. Her blood pressure little by little keep inching lower. The nurse called us aside and said she needed to ask us some questions. There were papers to be signed. When a patient's blood pressure gets below a certain point, they need to have answers. To questions you don't want to answer, but you must. Life support--yes or no? Then there were three letters you don't want to see: DNR. Do Not Resusitate. It was standard procedure. No, it wasn't. Not for us. Not for my mother. We signed the papers.
At that moment I had to start thinking differently. It was a turning point in my life. What if she didn't come back home? How would all our lives change? But I wanted to be like Scarlet O'Hara and think about that tomorrow. I didn't want to face it but the thought keep staring at me and I couldn't avoid it. I had to get back to her ICU room.
The nurses and doctors worked to bring the pressure back up and she survived the crisis but not without a lot of tense moments. We held our breath again each time the monitor refreshed. At one point her blood pressure was 50/17.
Somebody prayed us through it. She made it. Thank you, Jesus. He helped her but He also reminded me one day I will have to be ready to give her back to Him.
I realized that there is no one on this earth who remembers my grandfather like she does. If she were gone, I wouldn't have anyone to reminisce with about the good times. My brothers were little when he died and they don't have the memories that I have. They both bear his name, but they didn't know him like I did, even though I was only eight years old at the time. Now I can't even remember what his voice was like.
When she's gone, I'll go to the head of the family line. I will no longer be in the autumn of my years. The season will change, as it should.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
