The Call
This morning my aunt called my mom to tell us that the doctor wanted all the immediate family to come to the hospital. I overheard my mother relay the msg to my other aunts and uncles. I already knew that it wasn't good. It was sad to see everyone actually there in one room unable to speak and holding back their tears, some of which have not seen her since she entered the hospital last week. Personally, I could not really stand and look at her for too long without my eyes suddenly tearing up. I already knew her situation was bad. Although I am constantly surrounded by death at the hospital, I don't care how prepared or desensitized you think you are. The situation changes when it is one of your own. What really got me was not really my grandmother's condition. I knew she was essentially sleeping and probably could feel no pain. I felt so sad for my father, grandfather and mostly my uncle (her favorite) who had a falling out with the family not too long ago. Hearing them try to talk to her and telling her to wake up just made my heart ache, especially when I heard my grandfather talk to her. He is another tough man, who almost never shows any emotion but being jolly, angry or stone cold. This time, I could sense his strength on it's limit with a tinge of despiration and sorrow. Half of my family understood that her situation was not getting any better, while the other half was angry at the doctors and in denial. My uncle, the oldest among the six children, asked the older grandchildren what we thought and we essentially agreed that if our grandmother was able to voice her opinion, she wouldn't want to be incapacitated and feeling helpless. Ultimately, it is our grandfather's decision.
A total of three clergy men came to see her. Decon John of St. Anthony's, another priest who is friends of my aunt and uncle and the priest affiliated with the hospital. The annointing of the sick was done today. So she has her last rites. After speaking with her doctor, apart from my cousin, aunt and a word here and there by a family member or two, the place was quiet. My aunt decided to pray the rosary. Much to my comfort, it broke the silence and eased the tension in the room of 16. In the middle of the rosary, her life signs began to fluctuate. My aunt insisted that those were signs of her wanting to respond or pray with us. Honestly, I don't really know. I think anything is possible. It's really in God's will if she wakes or moves on.
Before this happened, death in the family has always crossed my mind, since I'm around it so much. Death is inevitable, and we shouldn't avoid talking about it. My personal preference, when that time comes was to allow nature take it's course. I wouldn't want the medical staff to have me or my loved one hooked up to multiple machines running most of my organs, lungs, and bowels only to have a shell of a person with an artificial heart beat. That is more like hell than anything I could imagine. It seems so cruel. I can't help but remember Terry Shaivo's situation and her family's resistance to "pull the plug" on her. Their reasoning was that she was responsive and followed movement directively. What I don't know in her case was the extent of her brain damage and whether she could even understand anything going on. She suffered tremendously long stuck to life support. Now I know my grandmother wouldn't want that. Tomorrow they will have another meeting. I still have no idea what they will decide. Hopefully we'll find out something new tomorrow that will help. Either way, I feel pretty helpless. One thing that I am somewhat thankful for is our entire family being there when it counts. When we went to my grandmother and grandfather's house after the visit, it felt a little bit like old times, especially with the little kids playing in the yard like my cousins and I used to do when we were little. It's hard to believe that she isn't there in her favorite spot talking up a storm and yelling at the children to stop running.
A total of three clergy men came to see her. Decon John of St. Anthony's, another priest who is friends of my aunt and uncle and the priest affiliated with the hospital. The annointing of the sick was done today. So she has her last rites. After speaking with her doctor, apart from my cousin, aunt and a word here and there by a family member or two, the place was quiet. My aunt decided to pray the rosary. Much to my comfort, it broke the silence and eased the tension in the room of 16. In the middle of the rosary, her life signs began to fluctuate. My aunt insisted that those were signs of her wanting to respond or pray with us. Honestly, I don't really know. I think anything is possible. It's really in God's will if she wakes or moves on.
Before this happened, death in the family has always crossed my mind, since I'm around it so much. Death is inevitable, and we shouldn't avoid talking about it. My personal preference, when that time comes was to allow nature take it's course. I wouldn't want the medical staff to have me or my loved one hooked up to multiple machines running most of my organs, lungs, and bowels only to have a shell of a person with an artificial heart beat. That is more like hell than anything I could imagine. It seems so cruel. I can't help but remember Terry Shaivo's situation and her family's resistance to "pull the plug" on her. Their reasoning was that she was responsive and followed movement directively. What I don't know in her case was the extent of her brain damage and whether she could even understand anything going on. She suffered tremendously long stuck to life support. Now I know my grandmother wouldn't want that. Tomorrow they will have another meeting. I still have no idea what they will decide. Hopefully we'll find out something new tomorrow that will help. Either way, I feel pretty helpless. One thing that I am somewhat thankful for is our entire family being there when it counts. When we went to my grandmother and grandfather's house after the visit, it felt a little bit like old times, especially with the little kids playing in the yard like my cousins and I used to do when we were little. It's hard to believe that she isn't there in her favorite spot talking up a storm and yelling at the children to stop running.
posted by shine
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Thursday, March 23, 2006
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