It Didn't Seem Right

The next morning I packed my mom and grandma's bag into my SUV. I stopped for coffee. Making my mom's just the way she liked. We drove the two hours to the hospital. We talked, sometimes I would make stupid jokes. This made my mom smile more than she cared to. I held her hand and comforted her thru her small fits of anger, pain and sorrow.

Once we got to my grandma's room the reality of our future hit me like a semi. My grandma was incoherent, no longer medically induced, she was just out of it on her body's own accord. Breathing tubes and feeding tubes stuck out of her face. IV's poked at her delicate paper thin skin. Monitors beeped and ventilators hissed. She was still. The presence of death's angel lurked in the corner of the room.

Her skin was cool and the blankets and warmers were not helping at all. She took slow, heavy, unsteady breaths. Her chest rose and fell with a thud. People came in and out all day. Doctors, nurses and visitors traipsed thru the room frequently. Tears fell like rain, sobs filled the stifling air. My mom hovered over my grandma as tears streamed down her face, threatening to dehydrate her withering form.

I waited patiently for my turn to visit with my grandma. I couldn't bring myself to cry. The presence of my tears would be too much for the grieving family to withstand. I held my grandma's hand as she held mine so many times before. I petted her hair, rubbed my fingers over her face, I kissed her again and again. She stayed silent. But, I was selfish. I needed to hear her one last time. I leaned into her ear and I whispered I loved her. I told her to let go if she no longer could be with us. I promised to take care of our family. I replayed our memories. I kissed her and whispered I love you one last time. She opened her tight eyes and mouth a fraction, and everyone gasped as she spoke the words I love you into the air while staring at my eyes.

I walked from the room in that moment. I was broken. My heart was on fire. Joy and pain laced thru my veins like a burning poison. Tears welled up in my green orbs. I felt the light tremors as they silently became violent waves of torment. My body heaved and my knees buckled as I fell upon the floor outside the door to her hospital room. Nurses stood beside me watching as hate took over my form, fear imprisoned me and sorrow suffocated my light. They offered no words as they looked upon me in sympathy, tears in their healing eyes. They had their hands cupped over their mouths. I couldn't give a shit for any one of them. Disgust boiled in my spirit as I secretly and unfairly accused them of causing my pain.

Bitterness overwhelmed me. I thought of many people who should take my grandma's place. I was drowning in death. It was consuming me like the cancer that raced thru my grandma's bones. She was 73 and she wouldn't see 74. She wouldn't watch more grandchildren, great grand children and great grandchildren grow. Her laughs would never fill the air. Her hands would never again touch a dish. Not one more cup of coffee would ever grace her lips.

Death is an evil and necessary force. Dying of old age would hurt but dying while silently battling disease seemed cruel. I was no stranger to pain, but the pain that made camp in my body felt unrelenting. I questioned my sanity as I fought against darkness once again. I instantly was praying to the gods. I begged again, like an ungrateful child I cursed the creators. I offered myself as sacrifice, selfishly, to save my mom this time. I willingly bartered my heartbeats that the gods would let my mom live thru this suffering of so many forms.

As I rose again to my unsteady feet, I firmly pulled my mask of sanity over my paled face. I stood determined that I would not break any more tonite. I let the pain form an unemotional bond with my spirit, willing myself to become numb. I dusted off my bottom as I prepared to enter the room one last time. I wiped my face angrily as the rough fabric of my jacket brushed my skin and soaked my tears like a sponge. I pulled the handle of the heavy wooden door and walked into a chapter of my life as it came to a close.

After saying good bye, my mother and I started the lonely journey back home. She slept as I stared aimlessly at the dark road. Carefully I maneuvered the vehicle over the ice covered asphalt. We stopped a couple times for my mother to empty bile and coffee onto the grass along side of the road.

Once home I continued my nightly vigil over my mother in her room. She was so stressed that sleep took an unnatural grip on her body. She laid stock still in her bed as I held onto her like a drowning man's vest. I watched her breaths and worried as they took too long to return. Her heart thudded emptily, scaring me when it would halt only to restart again. Her shoulders continuously heaved and relaxed. I knew she was suffering. I would do anything to absorb her pain.

The next day she slept til four in the day. As she woke, she looked horrendous. She was weak. Pain etched her face like a marble statue. She flinched as I lifted her to bring her drink to her dry cracked lips. My fear became a weighted blanket and I snapped. I demanded we were going back to that hospital and she was going to be examined. She begged and pleaded to sleep once again. I faltered in my facade of authority. Agreeing to go in the the morning, I let her rest once more.

The night continued in its dark lure of menace. I narrowly escaped meltdowns at every turn. My fear was outweighing my reason more times than not. I hovered and flinched. The pattern repeating all too many times.

At one point my moms phone rang. I could hear it from my room, where I was laying on my bed staring at everything and nothing. Minutes later my phone rang as well. My moms's contact picture illuminated my screen.

I answered and now wish I hadn't. My grandma had succumbed to the invitation of the after life. Immediately, I slammed my phone down. As I ran the few steps to my mother's room I heard her weeping. My heart plummeted into a black abyss. Just as quickly as it had fallen, I had snatched it from the ravine. Masking my emotions under my sheets of emptiness, I went to my mother. This time, cradling her as she openly broke inside my embrace. She cried until sleep overwhelmed her. For sleep to find her, I was grateful.

With day breaking all over, I began to prepare for the next journey back to the hospital of death that still held my grandma's breathless form. When mom woke, I got her ready and took her to my SUV. She slept with no emotion, as I drove the familiar roads. The ice had melted and a sheen of water laid in its place.

We went to the emergency room where I filled out her paperwork and prayed they saw her quickly. Hours passed as darkness covered the moonlit sky. Evening had long been our friend before they finally took her back to a room. Minutes passed as I explained every detail of her deterioration. They soon began running tests. It wasn't but an hour before she had been admitted. I followed thru the halls as she was wheeled to a depressing room filled with machines.

The nurses administered strong pain medication, IVs of fluids and antibiotics, endless viles of blood were withdrew. Oxygen was secured to her sunken face. Her levels immediately rising to acceptable numbers. Within minutes, her skin became less grey, her cheeks regained some color and her body relaxed into a comforting slumber. I finally felt free to sleep myself. I curled up on the vinyl couch covering myself in a blanket after removing only my shoes.

All night nurses and doctors entered and exited the room. Each time I woke. Each time they updated me on their course of actions. I felt myself relaxing into a calm state. My faith in the angels of mercy was growing with every visit.

As morning found it's way entirely too soon, they came to feed my mom. I gladly took over their responsibilities. I fed my mom. I sponge bathed her. I helped her cleanse her mouth. I listened to her requests and eagerly granted her every one.

Soon, they took her for major testing, I followed quietly while holding her hand thru the halls and rubbing light circles over her veins. I whispered coos of encouragement, soothing her worry with my empty promises of health. I couldn't and shouldn't have given her false security. But, I found it easy to lie to her as well as myself.

After a couple days in the hospital, I left for a quick turn around trip to gather my mom some comforting items at my home. I stopped along the way to drop off prescriptions that were already written, she would need them once we returned home. I dropped by the medical supply store and arranged a few oxygen tanks for travel which they gave me right then. They set a pick up time for an oxygen condenser we would need from now on. I received a short training session on cleaning and setting up the machine as well as instructions to operate the oxygen tank.

I quickly made my way back to the hospital so I could see my mom. Every minute away felt like wasted time. Even tho I knew it was a necessary trip, I wanted nothing more than to stand beside my mother again.

Once settled back in her room, I watched her sleep, watched her stir and raced desperately to cater to her every need. I relieved nurses of their care as I falsely took the role of nurse upon myself. I adjusted tubes and changed bed pads. I massaged my mother's numb cold feet. I brushed her hair and gave her fluids.

I administered meds as the nurses instructed. I decided it was best to take the opportunity to get into a habit that would become vital at home. I wanted the nurses to allow me this time to serve my mom. I also wished for them to tend to other patients who may not be as stable, and I voiced this opinion on more than one occasion. They reluctantly relinquished their posts as they allowed me to do as I had asked.

The next day was my grandma's funeral. The one that me nor my mother could attend. She had been cremated and we had already made the plans. There was no choice in the matter, not that I cared. Grandma was gone and honoring her memory is what I felt I had done in taking care of her daughter.

Unfortunately, the phone on my mom's bedside table rang. Simultaneously, my brother and his new girlfriend walked into the room. Seeing that they were visiting with my sleeping mother, I answered the phone.

The doctor who had been attending to my mother's medical needs was on the other end of the receiver. He greeted me coldly and ushered forth with her diagnosis before I could comprehend a word.

Cancer. Pancreas cancer. It had shut down her endocrine system.

I was left to deliver the news. In the wake of my grandma's funeral I would be responsible to darken the spirit of my family once more. I had no emotions as I delivered my blow of words upon each person in a timely fashion.

We made arrangements for treatments after I discussed my moms wishes with her. Papers were filled out. A living will with me as the power of attorney was signed. And we were given a time for her to be released after she was stable.

Again the hands of fate twisted my vital organs. They mercilessly dealt out their punishment against my dying spirit. I felt manipulated by spiritual forces that did not wish to compromise.

But, par for the course, I affixed my shield of determination and took up my armor of duty. No longer living for myself, I silently contracted myself to be my mother's keeper.

I briefed my work place on the newest events. They secured my job and offered a flexible schedule to allow for my mom's care. A weight was lifted with their compassion. Although, other weights remained.

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