Wednesday, February 22, 2017

The Morning After

103


I arrived at the mobile home before nine the next morning to find that my sister and her daughter were already gone. Checking on my mother, she thought they had gone at least an hour earlier and she had been alone since. But she pointed out that she had called my not as older brother and he would be getting emergency leave from the Air Force and flying out to take care of her. When I asked her when he'd be arriving, she said he hadn't figured out the arrangements yet, but when he did he'd be here to take care of her. In the meantime I told her that I'd be moving back in temporarily and would be bringing my computer here to keep me busy as well as some books. Was there anything she needed in the meantime? More water and the bed pan.
During my drive home the previous night I had stopped at the grocery store to find some bending straws to make it easier for her to drink water so that request was quickly addressed, as for the bed pan we finally guessed that the best technique was for her to roll to her side and then I place the pan where her seat would be once she rolled back. It took two tries to get this right and then she'd need time alone to do her business. I took this as my first chance to go back to my apartment and get a car load of my stuff for the stay. The new 'speed bumps' in the mobile home park quickly became the bane of my existence as I had to very carefully roll up one side of them and then gently back down the other side with my impact sensitive computer in back. Even without the computer, these lengths of asphalt curbing were so steep that they could only be taken at less than one mile an hour to reduce the abrupt, unforgiving jump they caused in the car. It was time to empty the bed pan and my mother rolled to her side again and I had to quickly intervene to stop the bed pan from rolling onto its side as well and spilling its contents. I then emptied it into the toilet and thought to take it to the kitchen sink where I could use the sprayer to rinse it out. Returning to my mother I asked her what else I could get for her. She said she would be fine for now.
Realizing I'd have to be spending the nights using her water bed so I'd be within ear shot of her, I stripped its sheets and blankets and put them in the washer next to the bedrooms. As the machine ran, mother called me back into the bedroom where she then cried about what had happened to her. My mother cursed my sister for not having a bathroom night light so she could see what room it was in the dark. She had gone passed it, assuming it was another bedroom door and then realized she had gone too far when she found the steps, instead, and fell down them. Our mother had apparently been at the foot of the stairs for a long while calling for my sister before she finally woke up and came to see what the problem was. She hadn't wanted to take her to the hospital fearing my mother's out of state insurance wouldn't cover it and she'd be stuck with the bill, but she finally relented after a period of mother's begging. The emergency room doctor told mother she had a broken pelvis and was to be kept in bed for the next few weeks until she healed up enough for a follow-up with a specialist. I tried to imagine a broken pelvis and all I could guess was a plate split in half with the two halves waving like wings whenever my mother moved. I couldn't imagine how she had been released from the hospital and neither could she.
The good news was, in her eyes, that my not as older brother would be taking leave from the Air Force and coming out to take care of her until she was all better and I wouldn't have to be there for more than a night or two. I thanked her for letting me know, especially as I would be returning to College in a week and wouldn't be able to help her full-time by that point. After a few more days of my mother assuring me my not as older brother would soon be arriving to take care of her, she finally concluded, ''I guess he can't get away, just now.'' Not having witnessed any of the phone calls she told me she had made to him, I didn't know how much contact she actually had with him about her condition, or what he truly told her. Years later when I'd talked to him about the time, he said he had never told her he would be coming out to help her so he didn't know why she had been telling me that. To my mind, though, my not as older brother had always been deemed 'the best child of us all' in her eyes and she was likely just expressing her preference as to which one she wanted to take care of her by imagining he was swooping out to save her.
My mother wasn't sure what she could eat and eventually decided on canned Spaghetti O's as a food she could easily just swallow without chewing. At first I tried to feed her with a spoon, but she decided it was better if I propped up her head with multiple pillows allowing her to drink it down from the edge of the bowl until she was done, then I would remove all but one pillow so she could return to lying flat. And so the days went for the first week, her diet of canned Spaghetti O's being supplemented with occasional glasses of juice between the routine glasses of water. She just lay in the darkness and I guess she let the time drift by her as the days wound on. I would sit at the computer on the dining room table and surf online or sometimes watch television with the sound very low waiting for the next time she'd call me for food, liquid, or for help with the bed pan. While she had been on vacation during the holiday weekend this had happened, it soon dawned on us that I needed to call the hospital kitchen where she worked and inform them of her injury and that she would have to be out indefinitely on medical leave until she was well enough to return.
To break the monotony, Daina would sometimes sneak over for the evening and we'd quietly watch television together as I waited for the next time I was called to mother's bedside. One time Daina needed to use the restroom but, as it was next to mother's bedroom, she decided to wait until our current show was over and then go home so as not to disturb her. At the next commercial break I went and got myself a glass of ice tea and then sucked some into my mouth and gently spewed it through my pursed lips back into the glass making a peeing sound. Daina lightly punched me in the leg in response. I'm so evil.
Toward the end of the week, I called a social services group who specialized in helping older people with mobility issues and asked what services they offered. I told them of the condition my mother was in and that I'd be returning to College with the following week, asking if they had someone who could check on her during those times. I also asked what other help they could provide and requested overall advice as the only guidance I had about the whole thing was what my sister had told me. They said they would check into it and call me back. I gave them the mobile home phone number and, after not hearing back for a while, I walked to the post box to get the daily mail. When I returned mother was angry at me as they had called back and she had answered the phone. ''I don't need any help from strangers!'' she yelled at me and I told her that the help request was in part for me. It turned out I didn't need any help either to her mind and so I concluded that when I returned to College the following week that it meant she would be able to take care of herself.
In reality though I continued to live with her for the next two weeks and still took care of her except for the six hours from the late morning to the late afternoon when I took my classes.
By the third week she was well enough to get up and painfully hobble on her own. I moved my stuff back to my apartment and no longer spent the nights there. When I took her to her first specialist appointment, she found out that her pelvis hadn't been broken all the way through, just fractured. That was why staying still had been allowing it to heal over time without any intervening surgery or devices needed to stabilize it. Until the end of June I continued to check on her and be with her a few hours in the morning before College and a few hours after College to make sure she was doing as best as she could. By the end of July, she was well enough to return to light duty at her job, thus I was out of a car and back to taking the bus for my needs so I just ended up calling her once a day for the rest of the month to check on her and insure she was doing all right. By August she and I were back to our lives as if nothing had happened, having little contact once again.
But something had happened.
One day, she asked for me to come over and see her for 'something important' that evening. Rather than take the multiple hour ride on the bus, I asked Daina if I could borrow her car when she was done with work and she agreed. I drove over to my mother's mobile home and rang the door bell I had installed for her a decade earlier and she opened the door and was glad I had come. She had recently figured something out and it had been a profound insight for her and she wanted to share it with me. We sat down at the antique dining room table and mother looked to me. ''I just wanted to tell you that, when you came I couldn't understand why God would want me to have another child under those circumstances. When I didn't have a miscarriage and the doctors even revived you when you had been born dead, I couldn't imagine why God wanted you here so badly. But now I know.'' She reached out her hand and placed it on the back of my hand already resting on the table, ''God sent you to me so you would be here for the time I broke my pelvis.''
I could tell by the gentle and warm look in her eyes that this was important for her, but for me all it confirmed was she hadn't wanted or valued my life until this Summer.



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