I've been a busy little bee. I got caught the last week or so making a video CD of digital pics for my folks back in the States. I had lots of problems with creating the CD. I won't go into detail, but it was time-consuming.
Having solved the problem yesterday, I managed to get the first CD burned, and was working on another, when I got a phone call from my mom.
It was one of THOSE phone calls.
The kind you typically get late at night, that pull you out of sweet la-la land to face terrible news.
Usually news of death.
Mine was pretty much like one of those. Almost, but not quite. I got my phone call in the middle of the day, and I could tell from my mom's voice that not all was well on the Midwestern front.
Two possibilities ran through my head. Is it Dad or Grandma? over and over the question revolved in the three-second silence between my question, "What's wrong?" and my mom's answer:
"It's Grandma."
Shit. Grandpa died a little over a year ago, and Grandma had been doing really well. She was happy, involved, had friends all over her assisted living community. She didn't need assistance, but she was there because Grandpa had been.
But she is also 91 years old. A spry 91, at that.
Turns out, Grandma's brain is bleeding, deep inside, near the medulla, the part that regulates all life functions. Grandma is aware, so far, but can't speak. Mom wasn't sure if she was really congnitive. She'd answered my mom's questions, but answered yes to every single one, for example. The doctor said operating at her age, so deep inside, so close to such a vital area of the brain, is simply too dangerous, and he advises against it.
He said it's likely she will lapse into a coma, as the tissue in her skull swells, but that she may wake out of it. If she does, she will never be the same Grandma we know and love. She will be just as she is right now. There is also the likelihood that her life functions eventually will be affected, and her body will shut down.
Grandma has a living will, so will not be put on life support.
My husband questioned whether she REALLY wants to be put on life support, now that the time is so close. Who knows? How can we know, if she isn't truly coginitive? But what's the alternative? To put her on life support, at age 91, until she's what? 105? 110? Whenever the rest of her body finally poops out? The rest of her was really going strong.
Naturally, I'm upset. I'm leaving Germany tomorrow at noon, and will arrive in Chicago around
2 pm CDT. My son is accompanying me, and my husband is staying home. His bosses at work won't give him the time off. He has 20 days of vacation due him, and they made a fuss that he asked for a half-day on Monday to run the car through inspection. They really made a fuss when he just asked for Friday off to drive me and our son to the airport. The arschlöcher.
I spent the day packing and cleaning the house (makes less work for me when I get back). I managed to throw in binders of sheet music, which are incredibly heavy, as a tangible prayer that we move to the States next year. The music would just add to the weight of boxes shipped stateside when the times comes. So why not bring them back while I can?
I'm feeling numb right now. I hope the sensation lasts for the next 38 hours. Let me get home and get a full night's rest, before I start feeling again.
I don't want my Gram to die.
Shit. I'm gonna cry again.
