The Way Things Were

Last year, I spent the day before Thanksgiving with my mother-in-law, Barb. We got up early and I took her over to St. Mary’s. She was set to have the rod removed from her once-broken, now healed arm in an outpatient surgery. We had specific directions to follow for her insulin and other pre-op instructions. I knew all the questions to ask so Barb could just visit with the nurses. We thought of this as the beginning of the end of her adventure of severely breaking her wrist in August. Once the rod was out, she would get back to normal life. It had been difficult managing just about everything without the use of her right hand. She was ready to be done with all that. After they took her back, I spent a good part of the day in a lounge area, looking out the window at a gentle snow coming down. It was simply beautiful, and a great distraction to the waiting game. I kept the family informed as to how she was progressing.

The really difficult part was that before the surgery, Barb was just in a splint that she could remove. After the surgery, she would be in a soft cast for 10-14 days while the incision healed and the wrist stabilized. It was really hard to go “backwards” and have very restricted movement again. It seemed that her wrist was a constant source of trouble to her. She fell hard when she broke it. At the time, the doctors had modified the surgery they would typically do on an injury like hers, because of her general health condition. She had COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease – or emphysema), Type 2 diabetes, and heart disease. There was a certain amount of risk associated with any surgery where she would be anesthetized. She did OK, though, both with the original surgery and with the second go-round to remove the rod.

The day Barb broke her wrist.

Another pic of Barb, early on in the process

 By 4:00 that afternoon, Barb was back at her apartment. I made her some Pasta Roni for supper (a favorite of hers) and put it in the fridge, took out all her garbage, did her dishes, vacuumed her floor, and got her meds lined up. She knew to call us if she needed anything. She was getting most of her feeling back by the time I left. She was worn out, but all things considered, I thought the day went well.

The up-side of scheduling the surgery on the day before Thanksgiving was that I already had the day off and didn’t have to rearrange my schedule to spend the day with Barb. The down side was that she didn’t feel up to joining us for Thanksgiving the following day. We did bring her a plate full of goodies, but we knew it wasn’t the same. We spent some time with her as well, but she was in a fair amount of pain and was glad for a quiet day.

Barb had a routine doctor’s appointment on the following Monday. She told the doctor about an incident she had over the weekend when she couldn’t catch her breath. The doctor checked her over and didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary. I saw Barb again on Wednesday, a week after the surgery. After picking up her prescriptions, I organized her meds for her. R.J. and I were taking turns filling her insulin syringes for her so she could just do the injections. Even that was difficult with her “bum” wrist, but it was manageable. She seemed in good spirits and was looking forward to getting the cast off and the stitches removed the following week.

Barb died that Friday - December 2, 2016 - before the cast could be removed. She went to the desk at The Waters (her apartment complex) and had them call an ambulance for her, as she was not feeling well and was having shortness of breath again. She chatted away with the staff as she waited for the ambulance, and with the ambulance attendants as she left The Waters. Her condition deteriorated quickly, and she was already gone by the time R.J. could get to the hospital from work.

I’m as stunned now, thinking about it all, as I was then.  Barb was not in good health, but we certainly did not expect that anything was acute enough to take her life. She had a cardiac arrest. The hospital staff worked on her for 20 minutes, but they could not bring her back.

That very night, the show “A Christmas Carol” opened at the Civic Theatre, starring my husband as Ebenezer Scrooge. That old adage, “the show must go on” was in full force. It was an impossible day, but somehow, by the grace of God, we got through it.

Here we are again. It’s Thanksgiving time, and I am thankful for so much, but I am also filled with memories of last year at this time. I keep busy, but I also try to pace myself. I write lists. I had an annoying injury of my own to distract me.  I pray a lot. I ask God to help me keep my joy this Christmas season. I really do have many reasons to be joyful, but there are those quiet moments when the grief swells up in waves.

Grief can be especially strong during the holiday season. Be kind, be thoughtful, and be aware. Most importantly, love each other. Each day and each expression of love and gratitude is precious.  And just so you know, precious friends and family,  I love each one of you.