Flashback and Frustration No. 1

This is my third try to write about what I recall of my first 27 days of treatment.  I lost the first two attempts due to a power failure that resulted in my blog not saving.

My first memory is of Karen (my priest and a very dear friend) driving me here, helping me to fill out all the admittance forms, getting a wheelchair and pushing me to the 8^th floor, and saying good-bye while weeping many tears.  I have known Karen since she came to our parish as a student of the Episcopal Divinity School.  Karen is about 13 years younger than I am but we became good friends very quickly.  I was asked to be one of her supervisors during her training with us.  Our friendship continued when she graduated and I joined a women’s group at her parish.  She had several roadblocks on the way to Ordination but she finally made it and I was a thrilled participant!  I have never known anyone better suited to the job.

  

One day shortly after she began as a Priest-in-Charge she called me and asked if I could possibly help her out!  Her secretary was resigning and she needed someone for three months while she looked for someone to hire permanently.  I was glad to help her!  The three months became eight years!  And when Karen was ordained a priest she was asked me to give the sermon.  It was one of the proudest moments of my life.

I don’t know when Dean arrived at the hospital but it was soon.  I don’t know who called him or how he got there so quickly but he was there in time to have a brief argument with me concerning my future and I think that a doctor was present.  I remember telling him that I wasn’t afraid to die and I thought that moving into assisted living until it became necessary to call hospice was a reasonable plan.  I was 77, going to be 78 in less than three months, and no one would be shocked at reading my obituary in the newspaper.  My parents had died at the ages of 86 and 88 but the quality of their lives had deteriorated so much because of sundowner’s syndrome and Daddy having to be placed in a Veteran’s facility and Mother, worn out from trying to care for him, moved into a home for the elderly.  When Daddy died, Mother came to Massachusetts to live in a nursing home near me and her death certificate read that she died of Alzheimer’s.  Perhaps I was just trying to avoid all of the pain and sadness of their final years.

Dean, a Colonel in the Army, adamantly refused to consider my suggested plan and in his best command voice said “Absolutely not! You will receive treatment and recover,” or words to that effect.  That was my first realization that I was losing control over my life!  

I remember having a vision at the end of our struggle in which I was elevated towards the ceiling and laying in a hammock being tossed back and forth by a group of laughing women.  It was a wonderful, joyful feeling of happiness.  The vision had to do with death and knowing that there was nothing to fear. It was the first, and last, vision I have ever had. Of course I am grateful for Dean’s insistence because I have been very blessed in my recovery thus far.
And very grateful to be given a greater number of years to live.  I have a feeling that God is calling me to do something.  

Dean, who was retiring from the Army at the War College in Carlisle, PA and had turned over responsibility for his affairs, was best able to take leave time and be with me for the first two weeks.  Missy, who teaches in New York City, took over for the next week when she had Spring Break and Cheryl came from Benson, AZ to take care of me at home.  Chuck, my oldest son who teaches at a Detention Center in Kansas has been part of the team and has called almost every night for four months to check in to see how I am doing and to tell me he loves me.  The best medicine in the world!

Some of my grandchildren came to see me! This was most surprising because being a military family we have wound up scattered all over.  I don’t remember exactly what order they came in—only that they were there!  Charlie and Kady, Dean’s children, came; Sarah, Chuck’s daughter was here from Washington, DC with Adina, Missy’s daughter from NYC;  Bekka, Cheryl’s daughter, now attending college at Wilson in PA, was here with her friend, Monique; and Travis, attending college at PA State, came with Dean for a visit after I went home.  Six out of sixteen grandchildren to cheer you on is wonderful!

I also received many cards from friends wishing me well and telling me that I was being prayed for and was loved.

To be continued!