Category Archives: Family

Here’s what we look like today.

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Political calls, forgiveness, and a 400-degree door

Oh, and we have a 2-year-old who speaks in complete sentences. How often does that happen? I really don’t know, but it seems unique.

I mentioned this to mom and she said, “It only counts if she can be understood.”

“It can be understood,” I said. “Sarah’s the one who told the story.”

“Antee-tarah, my ponytayol come out. Can oo fih it, peas?” [Tell me that’s not the cutest thing you ever heard.] “Tank-oo.”

~~~

Yesterday Rae Ann came over and cleaned my house while I worked on the longer Obit for tonight’s memorial service. While I was working it out the phone rang and it was one of those political telemarketing calls (can something be exponentialy annoying?); Concerned Alaskans for something or other was calling.

“Mrs. Helmericks, did you know that at this moment in the State Legislature–”

“Did you know,” I interrupted with a voice not-quite-steady, “that at this moment I am writing my grandmother’s obituary, and this is not a good time.”

A gratifying amount of awkwardness ensued.

~~~

Last week Natasha came up to me while I was sitting in our big blue chair and asked in her gentle voice, “Mama, do you ever forgive me?” After a Do I ever! laugh, I answered, “Yes, I’ve forgiven you lots of times.”

She embraced my arm tenderly and said sincerely, “I forgive you lots of times too.”

~~~

Today I had Jay drop me off at the DMV to renew my months-expired driver’s license. I wanted to be dropped off in case I was asked (with my 4-months expired license) how I’d gotten there.

When I called to ask Jay to pick me up he said something (over our poor cell-phone connection) that sounded like “oven door came off.” I could hear the stress in his voice.

“You can’t be serious!” I said.

“I am, and I’m on my way,” he said.

As soon as I was in the car I pumped him for the story. It seems Natasha had left one of her shoes in the kitchen, and Jay, stepping back as he checked on a pizza in the oven, felt it under his foot. He thought he’d stepped on Maestro or Melody and immediately picked up the foot again. His weight had already shifted, and so he hung on to the door, trying to catch his balance– and found himself holding a 400-degree door, looking at a half-baked pizza in the open oven.

Thankfully, the door wasn’t actually broken; it’s designed to lift straight up once opened, and the angle Jay pulled it at just lifted it straight out. Discovering this it was easy enough to fix, but didn’t entirely remove the panting moment of adrenaline.

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Well, it’s over now.

Or beginning. However you like to say it.

Mom tells the people on the phone that Grandma “graduated” last night. On the folder (what do you call the hand-out at a memorial service?) Her “passing” is written as the date she “ascended.”

I find all the words used instead of death interesting. Jay and I were talking about the common phrase passed away (with Elisha, who was being conversant at the time) and I said it sometimes makes me think of the big family dinners: I passed away the mashed potatoes. (You know I never eat that stuff).

Jay confided to Elisha that we would have to start making the potatoes now. I said, “What? Bring more potatoes into this house???”

I used Mom’s “graduated” at the beginning of the Obituary, and ‘death’ in the middle. I think it’s fine to use euphemisms– especially the first two add more meaning to the event, I believe– but I like to use the plain word too, if it doesn’t.

Passed away doesn’t add anything (that I’ve been able to figure out) and has always sounded mushy to me…

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Family dinner

I made Angel Chicken (my standard crockpot meal) and strawberry yogurt muffins and brought those to the hospital along with plastic odds and ends to eat with/on and a kool-aid type stuff.

My main concern was that there wouldn’t be enough food. I needn’t have worried. Seems like the others aren’t much more interested in eating than I am. It was good to be together and at least act like a family. It wasn’t the same, of course, as sitting around one of the tables. And the uncles left at least three times in the hour I was there to go “warm their noses.” I sat by Grandma and tried to talk to her, and couldn’t say anything normal (in a normal voice).

She has an Oxygen mask now (with a bright blue tube that starts just below the chin), instead of just the nasal cannula, and she still coughs, but can’t spit the junk out. She responds (sometimes) it seems to some things said, or people that speak, but she hasn’t opened her eyes for a long time.

Sarah said Grandma smiled at her, and laughed at a story Uncle Bill told about his son, Adam.

This grief thing is surreal.

When I left Gma’s bedside the first time, I went back to Jay, who pulled me into his lap. I wilted, and whispered, “Don’t be too nice to me, I won’t be able to hold it together.”

“‘Don’t be too nice’?” he whispered back, pretended shock, and almost a rebuke. “I’ll be extra nice.” I just clung to his neck and nodded.

“Yes; that will hold me together.”

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Now we really don’t know what’s going on.

One of the Doctors diagnosed something called ITP as the reason for Gma’s low blood-count. The treatment is steroids. As I understand it, they give your system a kick in the pants and try to re-start/reset the body’s levels.

Well, she’s been undergoing that treatment (diagnosed/prescribed by Dr. A) for days, and it’s had no effect. Or not enough. Dr. B spoke to Mom today, and gave her several reasons why he doesn’t think it is ITP, and Mom’s leaning toward his explanation.

So they no longer think it’s ITP, but they don’t know what is going on. Gma’s pretty active for her condition, but still much more tired than “herself.” Until there’s more blood to carry Oxygen and nutrients where they’re supposed to go, I don’t see her “normalizing” much more. That’s what she needs to go home.

So the current prayers are for either Gma’s complete healing (straight from the hand of God) or for the doctors to have the necessary insight to diagnose and treat whatever is really wrong. And for it to be soon, so we can get out of the hospital.

That one’s mine.

I’ve been limited in the amount of time I can spend with her b/c there’s nothing (safe) for two toddlers to do at the hospital while I’m with her, so I always need to find someone else to watch them before I can go.

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“In the meantime…” Elisha

(pre-timed again)

Well, with all the stuff about Gma I’ve not had time to post what’s been happing at home. Starting with the youngest (I’ve been with him the most lately):

  • Elisha
    • is smiling, laughing and “talking” now
    • Has an incredible attention span: He spent 15 or 20 minutes watching me rotate a partially-eaten apple in his line of sight at the hospital yesterday. Gma was napping, I was snacking. I assume it was the “dramatic” shift from red to white. The first time it happened he just kicked like crazy (he was lying on his back). I was surprised I had the attention span for it, but since I got to watch him, I had something much more fascinating to watch than an apple core. It’s been years since I sat and studied one of my kids that long…
    • His sleeping is amazing. He does an average of 8-hours/night (I once woke him after 11 because we had to be somewhere), and two or three naps in the day, ranging from 2-6 hours.
    • I am still “actively” putting him to sleep most of the time, holding his arms still and walking or “jiggling” him. That will have to change before long (He was 13 lbs, 4oz. on the hospital scale last Friday), but he’s shown some potential for falling asleep on his own too, when he’s tired, and if I catch the timing right…
    • Other things that have changed since he was new:
      • I already mentioned the sleeping– he would be awake frequently and frantically (not just for growth-spurts).
      • He’s mellowed (Praise God) so he can still stay calm or nurse when the sisters cyclone through.
      • He’s stopped spitting-up (most of the time) so I’m guessing this is when I got the impression the girls didn’t do it; they out-grew it.
      • He will sit in his play chair and enjoy the dangly rattles while I write (like right now).
      • And he nurses great. We were concerned for a while he wasn’t getting enough because of the thrush fiasco, but when we asked the Dr. about it she looked at the growth-chart and said we had nothing to worry about. He was already in the 80th percentile for his age. (My theory about him following Melody’s growth pattern seems to be confirmed). And even how people constantly overestimate his age.
    • He still fits in his “bassinet,” but we’re not sure how much longer.
    • He is a delight, and loves to converse.

(More , on the girls, when I have time later.)

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The latest on Gma

Lets see, it’s been a week since I posted here. The list version:

  • Gma had to undergo physical therapy to get walking again, but with hard work and a strong will, she has made great progress. She is now mobile with a walker, and as she continues to grow stronger the walker is expected to be gone as well.
  • The test for Leukemia (a suspected reason for her low blood-count) came back negative (PTL!).
  • In nearly every way (PT, respiratory, post-op) she has been cleared as ready to go home.

The thing keeping her in hospital at this point is the persistently low blood count.

On Sunday the doctor called her “The Miracle of the week.” She was active, lucid, upbeat, and her platelet count (object of the latest treatment) had stopped dropping. Mom hoped this meant we were “at the corner” where Gma would turn and begin improving here too.

It hasn’t been happening that way.

When I went in Monday morning her platelets had dropped again. She had had a rough night; not sleeping well or long together and so started her day still tired. Today, Tuesday, she has a temp of 100.6, platelets are down and the Doc’s ramping up the treatment (increasing the concentration and giving it by IV) hoping that will bring back the improvement we saw earlier.

Oh, and Nana’s arriving tomorrow morning for a two-week stay, and we/I still don’t know where she’ll be staying. She was going to be at Gma’s house, but with this craziness and perpetually expecting her home “soon” Mom and Dad (I agree) felt having extra people around continually during reentry would be hard for her.

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Priorities

(I’m pre-timing to keep Gma’s latest at the top)

Toastmasters came up again this weekend, since it comes up every week. We, Jay and I, have been doing a jugging act with responsibilities. We’ve definitely come up with a current hierarchy of priorities:

  1. Our (core) family of five
  2. Next level of family: Gma Mom and Dad
  3. Everything else

TM definitely falls into the realm of “everything else,” and Jay (and I) could both come up with some pretty convincing reasons to dump it. The interesting thing was that when I prayed about it Sunday and Monday (about the only days TM enters my consciousness during the week), I didn’t feel like I’m supposed to totally drop it. So I went. An hour doing something absolutely separate from the rest of my world (except for EP). It was refreshing in a weird way. I was pretty scattered, but that’s understandable.

When I get babysitting time– from Jay or anybody else– it’s been to go up to the hospital to visit Gma and/or spell mom. It’s continually running, with no stolen “nap-time” moments like I had when I was “continually running” with a new baby. It feels surreal.

Yesterday was the first time Gma’s slept while I was with her. She was exhausted. I think she works harder than she should on her PT, trying to get strong enough to go home. Only, the PTist has said she’s strong enough to go home, so it’s not that issue keeping her in.

It was nice to just sit still and read for an hour (Judy kept the girls that morning) while Gma and Elisha both slept. It was sad too though, feeling stuff back in limbo instead of on a clear “improvement” track.

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The way isn’t clear.

I’ve decided that’s what the “we’re not out of the woods yet” phrase means.

And that’s the phrase Mom has applied to Gma’s current condition. Tests continue to report a low blood count, and that is troubling to the doctors, since that should have improved by now.

They will be doing a bone-marrow test/check (whatever the appropriate name is) sometime today, and the results should be available tomorrow.

When I asked, Mom said the doctor or whoever decided against moving her to the “surgical observation floor” (I think it is called) as planned, since there’s no push for ICU rooms. This keeps Gma under more consistent (or at least more frequent) observation.

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Good News

I will skip over the longer story (summarized by saying that Grandma went into surgery Saturday night, then had to be kept asleep and on a ventilator all of Sunday while they waited for her lungs to show they could do their job alone).

She is now awake, and off the ventilator (doing her own breathing). The things that were initially of concern: first the internal bleeding, then the low blood pressure and need for a ventilator, and wondering a long time how she would respond to the anesthetic; all have come to their proper (healthy) conclusion.

Nurses predict Gma will be out of ICU and into a regular hospital room by tomorrow. The concern at this point is her perennially weak lungs– preventing pneumonia, which she has been susceptible to, but doesn’t have right now.

God has again shown us his great faithfulness.

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I am such a *writer*

(Also posted at Untangling Tales)
Do you ever find (if you’re not a swear-er, especially) that certain words escape as if you were swearing?
My 87-year-old grandmother has been in the hospital via the emergency room since late Friday night. I spent most of Saturday at her bedside, keeping her company while folks tried to figure out how to “fix” her (she’d been ailing since Sunday, and it finally came to a head).The whole time I was juggling my Mama (10-week-old Elisha was with me) and Granddaughter hats, my mind, against all my attempts to ration my frazzled resources, continued to frame how best to put the experience into words.