ynwtf
02-05-18, 01:33 PM
So, I don't really want to post this type of content to my social media as most of my family has access to my pages. My apologies in advance for clogging bandwidth with my mini pity party, here, but i just need to write something somewhere!
I do not think that I've made this too public, but my grandmother recently passed away. We held her funeral Sunday last, on January 28. For context, she had her second open-heart surgery just days before Christmas to repair and replace valves that were incorrectly repaired during her first open-heart surgery almost exactly one year earlier. Now please do not envision a weakly poor woman because of these surgeries. To the opposite, she was a tough old bird! Just this Fall, she was sprinting through her house doing laundry, baking southern style cornbread in her cast iron skillets, shredding chicken for dumplings, and playing the role of family glue as her children and grandchildren scrambled in life's offerings.
My grandfather passed away roughly a year and a half back. He was mostly bedridden due to a bladder tumor and a series of unlucky events the last two years of his life. He had fallen two different times, one breaking his jaw bone and the other a femur. Add to that random bouts of general weakness due to some muscular disease he had as well, he spent most of the last two years in bed. Even that wasn't so bad for him. He had gotten lazy with age and was quite content to watch westerns, nap, and ring his bell beckoning grandma for more dumplings.
It was an oddity, their relationship, but it was an unspoken mutual agreement to play their roles regardless of what those of us on the outside thought of it. We respected it because we knew she was strongest (and happiest) in caring for others. Unfortunately by doing so, she neglected her own health concerns. Too, he wasn't a bad man at all. He was only playing to the expectations and standards that she herself provided. Both were learned behaviors, and that was about as deep as it ever went.
Once he passed, she very quickly realized just how weak her own heart was now that there were no pressing distractions of care or, dare I say, obligation. We learned the condition of her heart and what procedures were required and we, as a family, moved forward. The first surgery was Christmas a year ago, following by 22 days of rehabilitation. This was all done locally in my home town. Several months later, my aunt moved her to live with her in Virginia so that she could help with the day-to-day and sometimes hour-to-hour needs. Still though, Grandma was on her own feet, cooking, and doing all that she could under whatever restrictions placed upon her by my aunt that were good and reasonable.
during those months we found that her breathing was poor and she started to suffer several spells of weakness. Luckily, the University of Virginia was only 2 hours away and had a cardiology specialist that would see her. They found that most of the procedures done during her first surgery were inadequate and would need to be undone and remade correctly, else her life expectancy would be less than 18 months. She accepted the risks and opted for a second surgery to repair what had been done. Surprisingly, the surgery was successful. I admit there was a major concern during a 4-hour window halfway in, but they were able to resolve the matter and continue. During all of this, I was visiting my mother for Christmas holiday who also happens to live in Virginia. Keep in mind that this story is all based on my father's side of the family. My parents divorced when I was 6. That's another story entirely.
So my mother was honored to ride with me for a day before surgery and again a few days post-surgery. For both visits, my grandmother was strong and in good spirits. She was able to speak and maintain conversation for considerably longer than I would have thought given the primary surgery and later a follow-up surgery for a pacemaker. But that was how she was, pushing herself to entertain others.
For a few weeks, we believed all was right and that she would recover even quicker than her previous rehabilitation period. She was well on her way upon discharge. Unfortunately, during her few days at the local rehab facility she took a turn for the worse. She picked up a UTI which ultimately spread bacteria into her bloodstream. At the same time she began suffering from fluid settlement in her lungs which only compounded the infection. As if those two issues were not enough, we discovered that the nursing staff at the rehabilitation clinic were not correctly measuring her prescription doses. We took her out, readmitted to UAV, and filed formal complaints against that facility.
I believe she spent the next week in pulmonary ICU in various extremes of up and down. At one point they placed her on a breathing tube in that she was in a state of confusion due to her body being unable to expel carbon dioxide. At this point, she was mostly unconscious and unaware. After four days, he levels appeared to balance out and they confirmed none of this was a result of her heart, as we had feared. They decided to remove the tube to let her breath on her own. She was able, and began eating soft fruits and ice chips. She had become aware of her surroundings, and though she could not respond through the breathing mask, she at least was able to acknowledge communication and understanding.
That was the last update I received from my aunt. Two days later my dad called at 5:30 AM to tell me that Nina had passed. I knew by the caller ID what that meant, as my dad and I rarely communicate.
The funeral was Sunday, a week ago, and it was generally a wonderful event. I think she would have been proud. My aunt had recorded to her phone one day Nina singing an old church hymn. She played this through the podium mic after she spoke a few words. None of us knew she had this audio, so it was an emotional punch to the gut to hear Nina's voice singing to us over the church audio system. It was clear. It was precious. It was haunting.
Well, I started this to complain about family, and how they've stripped the house of what they found valuable but ended up with what I have so far, instead. Dad is out of town on vacation with his wife, so he's not been able to draw lines with his two siblings, one of which seemed to need everything in reach as a sentimental reminder of her mother. I don't want to judge, I only wish she had more consideration to the family that have been with Nina through life. That feels out of sync to me. Granted, I'm looking through very old school southern traditional glasses where there is a set hierarchy of family roles, but that is the world in which my Grandmother lived. I don't know where the lines are in that. I do know absolutely that she only means well. She does. I love her and I am---we are---incredibly grateful for all that she has been able to do for my grandmother, this last year especially. She coincidentally was able to retire right as she moved my grandmother to Virginia, and as a result was able to provide 24/7 attention that neither my dad nor I could have done, here, had she chose to remain at home. She has been selfless in her care for her mother, and I so recognize that. I only wish that she could step out of her own thought patterns for time enough to empathize with others that have also lost her. Unfortunately, much of the family has been left alienated and confused, and I believe whatever family spirit there was may have passed with Nina. As I said, she was what bound us all to each other, one step removed from another with Nina as the mediator.
...
I am glad that that latter train of thought only took one paragraph and that Nina's story somehow took over the narrative instead. I think there is more honor in that. Just, I am still very much in a state of confusion with the loss of my Nina, who has been really a second mother to me throughout my life. I have been lucky in that they only lived 45 minutes from me, so I've always been able to visit at least monthly to cook, help with yard work, and for the last two years especially, tend and care for the grape vines my Grandfather and I planted a few Springs ago. When he could no longer drive out himself, I would walk the line making videos of the grapes' progress each season. His face would light up in delight seeing the literal fruit of our efforts. I would always bring him a handful of Nobles to taste for him to tell me if they were ripe enough for picking. Even on his final day, I placed a few of the largest grapes between his fingers as I described the vines that year. He was on such a high dose of morphine those last few days that I doubt he knew. Still, it only felt right as those vines were the only thing that seemed to make him happy near the end.
God, I miss them both.
Thanks for reading along with my thoughts here. I appreciate that. No need to reply and I'm really not looking for sympathies. I only needed to clear my head from some of these thoughts. This place felt more appropriate than other options for whatever reason, so I suppose that is an awkward compliment to the level of communication and feeling of family that I pick up from a lot of you and how you all interact with each other. That is respectable for a forum community, and I am honored in a weirdly emotional way that this place exists and that I have found it.
So yeah. Thanks for the warmth that you have all provided this, my first year here.
I do not think that I've made this too public, but my grandmother recently passed away. We held her funeral Sunday last, on January 28. For context, she had her second open-heart surgery just days before Christmas to repair and replace valves that were incorrectly repaired during her first open-heart surgery almost exactly one year earlier. Now please do not envision a weakly poor woman because of these surgeries. To the opposite, she was a tough old bird! Just this Fall, she was sprinting through her house doing laundry, baking southern style cornbread in her cast iron skillets, shredding chicken for dumplings, and playing the role of family glue as her children and grandchildren scrambled in life's offerings.
My grandfather passed away roughly a year and a half back. He was mostly bedridden due to a bladder tumor and a series of unlucky events the last two years of his life. He had fallen two different times, one breaking his jaw bone and the other a femur. Add to that random bouts of general weakness due to some muscular disease he had as well, he spent most of the last two years in bed. Even that wasn't so bad for him. He had gotten lazy with age and was quite content to watch westerns, nap, and ring his bell beckoning grandma for more dumplings.
It was an oddity, their relationship, but it was an unspoken mutual agreement to play their roles regardless of what those of us on the outside thought of it. We respected it because we knew she was strongest (and happiest) in caring for others. Unfortunately by doing so, she neglected her own health concerns. Too, he wasn't a bad man at all. He was only playing to the expectations and standards that she herself provided. Both were learned behaviors, and that was about as deep as it ever went.
Once he passed, she very quickly realized just how weak her own heart was now that there were no pressing distractions of care or, dare I say, obligation. We learned the condition of her heart and what procedures were required and we, as a family, moved forward. The first surgery was Christmas a year ago, following by 22 days of rehabilitation. This was all done locally in my home town. Several months later, my aunt moved her to live with her in Virginia so that she could help with the day-to-day and sometimes hour-to-hour needs. Still though, Grandma was on her own feet, cooking, and doing all that she could under whatever restrictions placed upon her by my aunt that were good and reasonable.
during those months we found that her breathing was poor and she started to suffer several spells of weakness. Luckily, the University of Virginia was only 2 hours away and had a cardiology specialist that would see her. They found that most of the procedures done during her first surgery were inadequate and would need to be undone and remade correctly, else her life expectancy would be less than 18 months. She accepted the risks and opted for a second surgery to repair what had been done. Surprisingly, the surgery was successful. I admit there was a major concern during a 4-hour window halfway in, but they were able to resolve the matter and continue. During all of this, I was visiting my mother for Christmas holiday who also happens to live in Virginia. Keep in mind that this story is all based on my father's side of the family. My parents divorced when I was 6. That's another story entirely.
So my mother was honored to ride with me for a day before surgery and again a few days post-surgery. For both visits, my grandmother was strong and in good spirits. She was able to speak and maintain conversation for considerably longer than I would have thought given the primary surgery and later a follow-up surgery for a pacemaker. But that was how she was, pushing herself to entertain others.
For a few weeks, we believed all was right and that she would recover even quicker than her previous rehabilitation period. She was well on her way upon discharge. Unfortunately, during her few days at the local rehab facility she took a turn for the worse. She picked up a UTI which ultimately spread bacteria into her bloodstream. At the same time she began suffering from fluid settlement in her lungs which only compounded the infection. As if those two issues were not enough, we discovered that the nursing staff at the rehabilitation clinic were not correctly measuring her prescription doses. We took her out, readmitted to UAV, and filed formal complaints against that facility.
I believe she spent the next week in pulmonary ICU in various extremes of up and down. At one point they placed her on a breathing tube in that she was in a state of confusion due to her body being unable to expel carbon dioxide. At this point, she was mostly unconscious and unaware. After four days, he levels appeared to balance out and they confirmed none of this was a result of her heart, as we had feared. They decided to remove the tube to let her breath on her own. She was able, and began eating soft fruits and ice chips. She had become aware of her surroundings, and though she could not respond through the breathing mask, she at least was able to acknowledge communication and understanding.
That was the last update I received from my aunt. Two days later my dad called at 5:30 AM to tell me that Nina had passed. I knew by the caller ID what that meant, as my dad and I rarely communicate.
The funeral was Sunday, a week ago, and it was generally a wonderful event. I think she would have been proud. My aunt had recorded to her phone one day Nina singing an old church hymn. She played this through the podium mic after she spoke a few words. None of us knew she had this audio, so it was an emotional punch to the gut to hear Nina's voice singing to us over the church audio system. It was clear. It was precious. It was haunting.
Well, I started this to complain about family, and how they've stripped the house of what they found valuable but ended up with what I have so far, instead. Dad is out of town on vacation with his wife, so he's not been able to draw lines with his two siblings, one of which seemed to need everything in reach as a sentimental reminder of her mother. I don't want to judge, I only wish she had more consideration to the family that have been with Nina through life. That feels out of sync to me. Granted, I'm looking through very old school southern traditional glasses where there is a set hierarchy of family roles, but that is the world in which my Grandmother lived. I don't know where the lines are in that. I do know absolutely that she only means well. She does. I love her and I am---we are---incredibly grateful for all that she has been able to do for my grandmother, this last year especially. She coincidentally was able to retire right as she moved my grandmother to Virginia, and as a result was able to provide 24/7 attention that neither my dad nor I could have done, here, had she chose to remain at home. She has been selfless in her care for her mother, and I so recognize that. I only wish that she could step out of her own thought patterns for time enough to empathize with others that have also lost her. Unfortunately, much of the family has been left alienated and confused, and I believe whatever family spirit there was may have passed with Nina. As I said, she was what bound us all to each other, one step removed from another with Nina as the mediator.
...
I am glad that that latter train of thought only took one paragraph and that Nina's story somehow took over the narrative instead. I think there is more honor in that. Just, I am still very much in a state of confusion with the loss of my Nina, who has been really a second mother to me throughout my life. I have been lucky in that they only lived 45 minutes from me, so I've always been able to visit at least monthly to cook, help with yard work, and for the last two years especially, tend and care for the grape vines my Grandfather and I planted a few Springs ago. When he could no longer drive out himself, I would walk the line making videos of the grapes' progress each season. His face would light up in delight seeing the literal fruit of our efforts. I would always bring him a handful of Nobles to taste for him to tell me if they were ripe enough for picking. Even on his final day, I placed a few of the largest grapes between his fingers as I described the vines that year. He was on such a high dose of morphine those last few days that I doubt he knew. Still, it only felt right as those vines were the only thing that seemed to make him happy near the end.
God, I miss them both.
Thanks for reading along with my thoughts here. I appreciate that. No need to reply and I'm really not looking for sympathies. I only needed to clear my head from some of these thoughts. This place felt more appropriate than other options for whatever reason, so I suppose that is an awkward compliment to the level of communication and feeling of family that I pick up from a lot of you and how you all interact with each other. That is respectable for a forum community, and I am honored in a weirdly emotional way that this place exists and that I have found it.
So yeah. Thanks for the warmth that you have all provided this, my first year here.