An Inkling of April

April

    This month has brought much to surprise and offer me, then I go back to work after weeks of being on leave of absence for a fall.  A trip to Colorado taken in March was wonderful to catch me up with my kids and two sisters.  Nine selfish days-three with each family, Colorado Springs, Ft. Collins and Evergreen made it the best quiet trip since we've been in California. Good time with each of them, and a glimpse of the new baby.  What could possibly be better than that?

    A week or so after I came home and tried to settle into regular life, I got a call from my sister in Michigan to say that she had failed a Cardiac stress test, and needed a Cardiac cauterization.  The cath failed, and surgery was scheduled for the three blockages in the arteries in her heart.  She is 63.  Strong, although a non-compliant diabetic with an A1c, or three month blood sugar average of 11 at the time of surgery, when it should have been 7. And a adjunct professor with a master's degree. She has never really had any heart issues of concern.  Our mother died of multi-organ failure at 63.  Regardless of how the cognitive mind knows you will be fine, no doubt, the rest of your mind, the child of her mother worries that 63 is the endgame.  I knew how she was thinking.  I know how afraid we both were for her, so I went the next morning to be in time for the surgery.  To let her know I was there.  Me, the other bad diabetic. The nurse who would fight all of the drama and  make sure she was taken care of as well as I could.  To hold the vigil when the rest went home to their lives.  I had taken the time out of mine, and am thankful I was still on leave for my ankle.  She came through wonderfully, but recovery for a strong person to change her life, is hard. 

    Strangely, it was a time for long night talks.  Sharing more than ever, no holding back.  Letting the caregiver lay back, just for once and to be the one to receive the care that only I could give her.  For once she was not able to be the strong one, and to accept my talents towards her, given in complete love.   Even that was hard, but there was no choice for her, or me.  The time was necessary.  And profound.  For both of us I think.  There was a lot of time with family, and a lot of time for her and I alone, especially at night.  And of course, a lot of time sleeping in chairs. Long conversations with her daughters, as adults that gave me an insight and appreciation of them and their strong personalities and abilities.  Seeing nieces and nephews who couldn't possibly be that old.  Calling and seeing cousins that have been scarce for years.  And having time to grieve the loss of a son of hers, together, leaving that hole in my heart a bit healed, but never closed.  Time during which I was so mortified that she kept saying, "she's a STANFORD nurse!!!".  never offering that I was a pediatric nurse, and really didn't know about adult cardiac issues. 

    After I finally made the long tired trip home, with a train ride, layover, and long flight home.  I was exhausted with not much sleep for seven days, and worry as well as letting go of any control I might have had in the situation-that part is hard.   I so glad I maxed my credit cards out to go.  It was worth every minute, she is my sister-she's not heavy.

    S0, back to work I go this week.  Finishing up with the class on Vietnam, the drudgery of so much information that will never mean much to me, but needed to be taken, as there was no alternative offered.  But that is another story.  Then I will be back to more nursing classes, and math.  I've decided not to dread that, but to learn it.  Work will be good, although I will never be sorry for this quiet time.  The time to go, time to sort things out mentally, write, study and plan.  You know how to make God laugh?  Tell him your plan.

S