First the hospital, then a party
September 8th, 2006 | by Vinny |Before you have a nutty, everyone is fine.
It’s been nearly a week since I’ve posted, and with good reason. Grossmutter (my mother-in-law) was hospitalized. She fell unconscious at the Rectory on Monday (Labor Day here in the US, a bank holiday). She goes each week to count the collection from Sunday. As a former banker, she’s pretty good at it, and has been doing it for probably 30+ years.
The folks at the Rectory helped her up from the floor (first aid training, ANYONE?) and helped her to a chair. They called Grossvater (you figure it out) but he was getting a haircut and didn’t answer the phone.
Whose phone rings next, do you suppose? Wife answered the phone upstairs, as I was sleeping on the couch downstairs (I completed 3 podcasts the previous overnight, and decided not to wake everyone). She shouted for me, told me the circumstances, and bolted, leaving me with Son, who had not awakened yet. Daughter was at a sleepover, to be followed by a birthday party.
Son woke shortly afterward, almost as Wife called to ask me to meet Grossvater, who had yet to respond to a call. I quickly filled in Son, called the house where Daughter was and begged for help, and took off. Grossvater was fixing something in the garage and was a little shaken when I picked him up to go to the E.R. We arrived to find Grossmutter with Wife waiting to be seen by a doc. A very strange but efficient man eventually came along for a history, which Grossmutter biffed.
Every professional who attended to this woman asked her medical history. When asked if she had any prior medical issues, she responded “not really” to each of them. This is fine, except it overlooks hypertension, high cholesterol, broken ribs last year in a CAR WRECK, surgery on her carotid artery to remove plaque… this women could populate her own textbook! But to her? “Not really.” As a result, she cannot be left unattended until she is settled into a room, because she clearly cannot advise in her own care.
This is not because she is addled. This is not because she can’t remember (although there is a little of this). It’s because she is a royal PITA! She is one of those women who will tell you that everything is fine, and then you find out 3 months later that there was an issue, but she chose to suffer rather than tell you. I would say it was brave, but you get to hear about it. A lot.
In any case, Grossmutter was eventually admitted, and a CAT scan showed what could have been a bleed on the brain. A two day hospital stay and repeat tests revealed it was simply calcification, and not too serious. In the meantime, everyone was worried, but she is home and recovering, although each episode like this makes her a little the worse for wear.
The incident caused Hippie-In-Law, her daughter (my sister-in-law), to come home a month early from Oregon. She’s staying in my family room. The timing is good, because it is GroÃmutter’s birthday, and we are having a party. At my house. With Psycho-In-Law, my other sister-in-law, and her 3 kids staying over tomorrow evening. I still haven’t gotten over the eight 9 year old girlsm and we are having 2 adults and 3 children added to our roster tomorrow.
This is o.k., because it will allow everyone to settle down a little after the week from hell. With school starting and visits to the hospital, it’s been a little crazy.
It’s not easy having family in their 80’s. These kinds of things are to be expected, but Grossmutter and Grossvater do not appear to be in their 80’s. Of course, I look at it as an inevitability, but Wife, Son, and Daughter look on this as a much more serious occurence. I have resolved myself, however reluctantly, to the fact that they will not be here for much longer. I don’t know if I will be able to do the same when it’s my blood.
I had a long discussion with Daughter about some of these issues. She was offended, because in the beginning we didn’t inform her, so as not to ruin her social events, and because we simply couldn’t be there to tell her personally. She was hurt, as any mature young person might be. A discussion of why we do what we do in emergencies came up. Daughter was curious about the need to go get GroÃvater before he got that frantic phone message. We eventually came around to roles in the family, and Daughter has come to understand that my role is to be the emergency guy. When someone is hurt, I give first aid. When there is a fire at school, I’m the guy who runs there, When the ambulance arrives, I am the one who meets the medics.
It’s funny how there can be great comfort in those roles, the traditional, “don’t you hate stereotypes” roles. Knowing that Mom will be there to support you, kiss the boo-boos, and feed you. To know that Dad will help with the homework, pick you up at that party in the middle of the night, and fight off threats great and small. Coming from a single-parent household, I never really reflected on that. Now that I am that guy, it’s kind of strange to have your children look at you like that.
I wonder if I have the strength and drive to be that guy when the chips are down. On the days when they DO look to me for that strength, I remember where it comes from. It’s right there, in the look. You can’t let them down, and you can’t disappoint them, because they look so helpless. You must be successful, for them.
How do they do that?
