The crisis is over now, everything’s back to normal, but had a real scare with Mom this week. The 24 hour period between 5 pm Monday and 5 pm Tuesday was particularly harrowing. I’ve spent the last couple of days bringing the immediate family up to date. Now it’s time for the rest of you.
What can I say? When I saw her last Thursday, she was in as good shape as I’ve ever seen her in recent years. Saturday she became seriously ill with an infection which left her semi-catatonic. By Monday, she had deteriorated so seriously that there was concern she might not make it. Tuesday, she began a turnaround, the antibiotics that she had been receiving since Saturday finally kicking in, maybe a couple days later than expected but, of course, always better late than never! When I was there this afternoon, she was pretty much back to normal and she received the last of the antibiotics. What a rollercoaster! I don’t need this kind of excitement in my life. Hopefully, this reprieve will last a while.
March may have come in like a lamb weather-wise, but emotionally it came in like a lion. Monday afternoon, I had just spent an hour or so on the phone with Paul talking about the Oscars when, less than two minutes after hanging up, that phone call that I've been dreading from Lourdes for the last six years came in. The nurse called to inform me that Mom had an infection that had started on Saturday and that she had deteriorated significantly in the last two days, refusing meals and medications. They described her as being non-responsive and basically laying in bed practically lifeless. She's had several infections in the last six years and, though they have always been miserable for her, they have never been anything approaching life-threatening. But now for the first time, they were using language that was of a serious enough nature that I felt like they were preparing me for the worst.
I went in immediately and sat with Mom for quite some time. Indeed, she was in bed and looking quite lifeless. However, as soon as she started to stir, I gently spoke to her and she opened her eyes and smiled. She was very weak, all washed out, but she definitely knew me and seemed very glad I was there, spoke to me even about how very tired she was. But at least she was responsive, which was a good sign in itself. The nurse came while I was visiting and was surprised to see Mom's eyes open and her talking to me. "I guess you just needed to see your son," the nurse said smiling at Ruthie.
I have never seen her this weak and this frail. Needless to say, I was very concerned. She had been in the peak of condition when I saw her on Thursday. What an absolute shock to witness just how drastically she had gone downhill in just a few short days. It was particularly troubling to me that she had refused meals and medications for two days now. That was still another sign that she was giving out. She had also now been on the antibiotics for three days with no discernable improvement. Usually it only takes one or two days to start improving if the antibiotic is working. So that was still another big area of concern. I doubted they had the right antibiotic.
So Monday night and all day Tuesday were really quite difficult and emotional for me. I honestly felt Mother might not have much time left. When I went to check on her late Tuesday afternoon, I was shocked to see that her bed had been stripped. Omigod! That's what they do when someone dies! But then I looked around. Mom was in her wheelchair in the little lobby on St. Jude, eating her dinner.
Without even saying hello, I went to the nurse at once for a status report. It was very good news. Today she seems to be responding at last to the antibiotic. She was strong enough to get out of bed, she's had all three meals, and she has been accepting her meds again. I went to talk to Mom and she seemed at least half-way back to her old self again, glad to see me, not looking nearly as weak, talking and eating. To say I was relieved would be a colossal understatement. 24 hours earlier, I was worried sick that we would soon be preparing for a funeral before the end of the week. How was I going to get the house into shape that quickly? Funny the trivial matters that go through your mind during a crisis. Now it appeared I had gotten another reprieve and that our mother was destined yet to be with us for a while longer.
So it’s been a rough week and a really helluva 24 hours from Monday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon. In a way, even if it had been the worst case scenario, we have all after all been hoping and praying that the end comes quickly and with relative ease. In a way, all our prayers would have been answered.
However, having said that, I will also state categorically that I am not ready for her to leave us yet. I want her to see her 95th birthday. I want her to see my big recital in June; it may be the last one she ever sees. So I am very relieved and very grateful because I am not ready for her to leave us yet.
The nurses have been wonderful. I am so happy she is in such good hands.
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