Friday, 26 February 2010

• My Gran was one hell of a lady

  I went over to whitetrashpoet's blog, Death panels.,and - although I'm not one for watching vids often, I saw that it was an Olbermann piece - so I watched it.
  
  As Olbermann related his tale about his father,I couldn't help but reflect and remember my Gran. Olbermann's father,  who is of a strength of character and spirit, had the series of compounding medical issues surrounding  as time went on - medical issues in which the man would shake off the series of infections, life-sustaining equipment, shunts, cysts, and the like with a brand of humor or other face of bravery - and as Olbermann spoke of his father's strength giving way over a period of months, I kept thinking about Gran.
  
  I had an indomitable grandmother. She, in her retirement years, took up scuba diving, kayaking, massage therapy, and other lessons - for fun. While I was in school, in Chemistry I Honors, and having a difficult time with it - she purchased an exact copy of one of the books and took up the class, alongside me, from her home, to help me through the class.
  
  When I was [15? 16?] young, in the mid-1980's,  I picked up a new swimsuit - a simple french-cut, one-piece - and I called her, "Hey, Gran - I got me a new suit - meetcha at the beach?"
  
  "I picked up a new suit, too - I'll see you there", she said, and when she arrived....
  
  She had gold hair tied atop her head, that fell down in a river down her back. She had on a neon pink bikini - and looked better in her suit than I looked in mine. A sun worshiper, she had  a golden bronze tan and a brilliant smile that reached her grey eyes. Truth to tell, she spun more heads than I did!
  
  The average kid would have been awkward - but, then again, there is nothing precisely "average" about my family. I grinned, waved, and said, "Gran! You look Great!!", and we enjoyed the day together.
  
  Gran didn't bother to age until she turned perhaps 73 years of age. She went to marathons, triathlons - her mantle in the living room was littered with ribbons, medals, and trophies from her physical exertions. At [58? 60?] she finally learned to stand on her head, after having taken up yoga. She was rather proud of that!
  
  She was a vegan [I was - and am - a junk foodie] and a feminist [before the concept of feminism became some sort of an epithet] and a soft-spoken -- but powerful -- voice of reason. She took vitamin and mineral and "other" supplements - but only in regards to fill in any deficiencies in which her standard diet may be missing. Yes, lads and ladies, she was a health nut. A hippie chick in 80's neon. So it goes...
  
  She always carried a "to-do" list...but, over a period of time, the list became "lists"...areas highlighted...multiple, tiny notebooks...but, as always, she showed up to appointments, meetings, and other events with her talking points readily at hand, her schedules down pat, her current research in a given topic highlighted, etc...
  
  As time went on, and as life pulls people away from each other - so, too, I had lost contact with Gran for a while. I got word that she was still jogging 5-10 miles a day, and that she was sponsoring an event here, helping a friend there...
  
  The "to do" lists began to multiply....post-its at her bedside...items tacked to the refrigerator...three pens of different colors, three notebooks and two highlighters in a prominent pocket in her pocketbook...
  
  ...then, when she was about 70 [or 71?]...she had passed out during one of her regular jogs. She got overheated, we figured - but, as she was, "...getting no younger...", my uncle came over to kind of keep an eye out for her.
  
  She slowed down on or entirely quit many of the events that had once cluttered her schedule. People were beginning to be concerned about her.
  
  It wasn't long before my uncle moved in, to help her out.
  
  He attended "a few runs" with her [short-distance marathons] and kept an eye on how well she was doing...
  
  ...over a period of time, though, there was something "off" with her...her lists multiplied, and, at one point, she had a handwritten, "list of lists" that she had to double-check, as my uncle observed...she was about 70 or 71 at the time...
  
  Her breathing was beginning to become more labored...she couldn't jog the 5 miles anymore...it was all she could do to walk perhaps 3 miles [it's more than the average person can do...but this was Gran we're talking about...]. There was "something wrong" with her legs that, "has been developing for a time".
  
  Checking in with a doctor, it was discovered that she was beginning to collect fluid in the walls of her lungs, and in the tissues of her legs and feet. Hypertension. Heart problems. Also a case of bone density loss and other health issues.
  
  In short, she was aging...all at once.
  
  Mom - a long-tenured, registered nurse, came over to assist in matters of pharmaceutical knowledge, brought the current issue of the Physician's Desk Reference drug book, helped Gran with a time table to ensure which medications to take when, which vitamin supplements [if needed] to take when, the definition of P.R.N. ["as needed"] and all other measures between medication and dietary to ensure nothing crossed up anything in the regimen.
  
  Gran, dutifully, took exacting notes and used this complicated pill-sorter and her notes to get it all straight...
  
  ...and, once the regimen was in place, she found that she was feeling weaker than she was before the regimen, and her jaw was beginning to become stiff, and her thoughts - though previously scattered - now seemed awash in a state of confusion.
  
  So, over yet a further period of time, she petered down on the medications until she had eliminated them. I came by and noted that she was more "like her old self" but - and it was weird - she started to ask me if I wanted any of her trophies and medals. "God knows, they're just piling up everywhere, getting coated in dust...it's getting to be a hassle..."
  
  I still have one of her medals. I only accepted one - because somehow...I don't know ... somehow it didn't seem "right"...
  
  So one day, my uncle came to the realization that her encyclopedic pill container box thing contained no doctor-prescribed medications - although one of her medications was due for a refill, there were still pills within it. Her "as needed" medication for pain was nearly completely full.
  
  "Don't worry about it, I have everything under control. Look at me: I'm in better shape than when I was on them..."
  
  "You're in pain - you could at least have taken a pain med, to ease it some!"
  "I don't like the way they make my head feel.", she replied blithely.
  
  Still, he was concerned. He, in turn, called his kid sister - my mom, the R.N. - who began to chastise Gran.
  
  Gran, in turn, stated, "I have everything under control", and continued onward.
  
  I checked in on her at this point - she was 73, I had last seen her when she was 71, and, for the first time, I was looking at an old woman. I'll be honest - it spooked me, initially - but we went out for "a short walk" - Gran, Mom, and I [one mile...this is Gran we're talking about] and she let me know that she was okay, "I have everything under control".
  
  My uncle snapped a shot of us.
   
  
  My uncle wasn't medically trained, so he didn't actually understand what she was up to - and, this time around, I didn't hang out for dinner [let's face it - I specifically didn't hang for dinner - have you ever experienced wheat germ, molasses, bulgur wheat with "wheat berries" "pancakes", served with other creative constructs? I had felt like I was eating something that third world countries use to thatch their roofs!] - I didn't hang out for dinner, and I wondered if there would have been a marked difference if I had...hold this thought, mmkay?
  
  A year had passed, and, at 74, I got a call from my Mom: "Mom - um, your grandma - had a bit of a scare...she was doing her laundry and had passed out in the yard."
  
  She doesn't do long walks anymore. She refuses her medications. Her legs are getting more swollen in appearance.
  
  "Mom - this is Gran - she's just now finally aging - she'll be okay.", I kept reasoning. Still, unsettled, I called Gran.
  
  Gran downplayed everything, then my uncle got on the phone.
  
  "Yeah. She's...I dunno...some days she's doing fine, then others - maybe not so good? She was holding one of her lists and she couldn't read her own writing for a minute..."
  
  "Gran's handwriting has always been a puzzle"
  
  "No, honey - her handwriting was the same, her glasses are fine - she just couldn't understand what was written..."
  
  "Oh. Well, as you read it...?"
  
  "As I read it she was like, 'oh' and carried on like nothing - but she's been having these dizzy spells and - when I catch her at it - she starts holding her chest..."
  
  "Her heart thing?"
  
  "Yeah. I think it's getting...worse than she lets on..."
  
  "Is there anything I can do or anything?"
  
  "Nah...you know your gradma...listen - it's getting late and I'm holding you up. You take care of yourself, okay?"
  
  "Mmkay...Gran still up?"
  
  "Nah, she took one of her books to the room with her, zonked out. She's okay for now."
  
  Over a period of time...
  
  Gran was 76, and she made a telephone call for an ambulance. Then, she let my uncle know that she made the call. "I have everything under control, just thought I should let you know what was up. I'm not feeling so great...
  
  In the hospital, as she was switched from her day clothes to a hospital gown, you could see a layer of swelling at her elbows, her legs, her feet. You could see a slightly yellowish tinge to her skin that was hard to see in low light.
  
  I mentioned my Gran was a vegan for years. She always had some kind of weird diet thing going...
  
  While at the hospital, she made sure to mention to my Mom that she had long ago drafted up a living will, and she reminded my uncle that she was D.N.R. - Do Not Resuscitate - that she will not be tied to a machine if that were the only option.
  
  She was in excruciating pain in all extremities, and, this time around, was showing it. Fluid had collected in most of her tissues, and parts of her were in the process of shutting down.
  
  While my uncle was being asked about any special dietary concerns, my Mom stated, "She's a vegan", and my uncle corrected her, "She's on this Atkins diet, something about an extended phase one..."
  
  W-h-a-a-a-t??
  
  I slowly got the idea, my uncle was clueless, and my Mom thought my Gran was off her rocker - someone with the host of medical problems that Gran had - especially with her heart - going on the Atkins diet was a suicide!
  
  Gran wanted, more than anything, to have a clear head - but she was in extreme pain. She looked at me. I think that the impact of everything had hit me all at once.
  
  Gran said to me, "You know, right?"
  "Yeah. And they know your DNR, your living will, and the rest..."
  "This is Morphine they're giving me. They gave me a clicker [holds it up] - but you know - you'll have to tell them..."
  "Yeah. It's okay, Gran - I promise."
  "I couldn't leave...this...on your uncle. I couldn't do that to him..."
  "I know. And I think I know what you're not saying."
  "Okay."
  Click. She allowed herself the Morphine.
  
  She lasted two days at the hospital. I saw her on her way out. She was content, and free of pain.
  
  Gran had all kinds of books in the house - her house was a verifiable library. Nutrition, mathematics, science, New Age, Naturopathy...
  
  There, at her bedside, were the books on the Atkins diet. In her familiar sticky bookmarkers, on the pages, and with her notes inscribed in the margins, there it was.
  
  Atkins is not recommended for those who suffer from hypertension, may cause water retention, is unsuitable for those with heart conditions...
  
  She performed her own, private "death panel", in the relative comfort of her home.
  
  She affixed exacting meal plans on the refrigerator, and stuck to them.
  
  She dropped the medications, pushed through any pains she had, and waited until she was sure she was on her way out - and checked out.
  
  Eventually, when I figured they could handle everything, I showed Mom her notes, and explained the findings in simple terms to my uncle.
  
  She had everything under control. She specifically would not live "half a life".
  
  Did I mention, she was stubborn?
  
  While listening to Olbermann speak on Death Panels - in that the name should more resemble "Life Panels" - what he speaks of is Quality of Life, not money, not insurance coverage, not pharmaceutical equality - but the right of those in need to determine if the quantity of life is worth the quality of life.
  
  Gran was a vegan, but she damned sure was not going to be a vegetable!
  
  Hers was a decision that was not borne out of a "Death" decision - but a "Life" decision.
  
  You got through reading through this. Do me a favor: go to the beginning of this, go to whitetrahspoet's blog, Death panels. and watch the 14-minute clip.
  
  Tell me - whether here or in a more private manner - or just consider personally, to yourselves - how you feel about the topic.
  
  Take care of you...
  
  -the_kcar-

  • 8:45 AM
  • 37 Views
  • 2 eProps
  • 2 Comments