Please forgive me in advance for ad libbing on this post. I am sitting at the hospital in the waiting room. My mother is being admitted into the hospital yet once again. Another UTI from the supra cubric catherer which was installed back in June.
My mother has a lot of years experience in the medical field. She is very familiar with the terminally. The advance stages of diseases do not come uneasy to her because she retired as Supervisor of the Tumor Registry at a Navy Medical Command here in Virginia. She was one of the founding members of the Society of Tumor Registrars. She has worked with doctors from varied backgrounds from her initial days in the medical profession in medical records.
When we are at the hospital she is normally the one very well versed in the medications she takes. She can pronounce them, knows the side effects, and probably a whole lot more than the average patient. I remember the days when she was working tirelessly to advance up to the level she attained prior to her disability retirement. She went out on disability retirement after 29-1/2 years of loyal and dedicated service to Civil Service. She not only worked civil service she worked part time jobs too. She most often worked part time as a cashier. I remember once she even worked part time cleaning offices. Her initial position as a cashier started out on the base in the commissary.
The past couple of years have been really rough. My mother all her life has supported a whole lot of crutches. She has kept a roof over the heads of others who could not afford their own roof. Over the past couple of years as we have grown closer and she has shared a whole lot with me one thing that keeps resonating is how all the people she assisted for so long have turned their backs on her. And she says thats okay I did my part.
Deep down inside I know it hurts. I saw all the sacrifices she made. I saw all the hard work she put in. My mother was a very beautiful woman. She really did not have to work as hard as she did because my father was a good provider. Also, my other brother's family had lots of money. Even though she would never marry him, she was offered a brand newly constructed home in an upscale neighborhood if she would have all expenses paid. However, my mother was used to making her own way when necessary and she was not the type who could be bought to settle for what she did not want.
If you have read my previous postings you know my grandparents were instrumental in raising me. My mother often reflects on how my grandfather thanked her on his death bed for always being there and supporting the family because he told her he doesn't know what they would have done without her.
I know my mother was always a champion of others. During the holidays, back to school, and other times when others needed support financially, or just a listening ear my mother was there. When people were sick my mother was there. When families grieved my mother was there. Even though my parents divorced back in 1971 they remained friends and looked out for each other as much as two best friends would until my father went on to be with the Lord back in 2008. She was closer to my father than I was.
Now as I see her suffer so much I often ask why. I know there is a deep rooted bitterness in watching her in pain and suffering so much. I keep running across our history in my own mind. I often reflect out of all the people in the world she was close to I was probably the one at odds with her the most. She always told she didn't want any girls. I was raised by a no nonsense grandmother and I was tough enough to take it. I didn't fall apart. I know a lot of the reasoning behind it was the Freudian concepts. So much so that it was one of the reasons that inspired me to want to be a psychiatrist. When I first started college at Jackson State University in Jackson, Mississippi that was the focus of my major. I was on a four year academic scholarship. The reason why I even found out about the college is because one of the psychiatrists she worked with at Boone Clinic in Norfolk had graduated from their as his undergrad and his mother was a professor there.
My mother's mantra irregardless of our sour relationship was that her children were never going to want for anything. She really spoiled us. When it came to finances, we never saw money issues. She would give us an allowance very week without fail. Often times she would keep the house so supplied even when she did not live with us until we were pretty much in high school she always made sure we had.
She would let us participate in any event we wanted to. I remember she would pay for me to go to band camp at William and Mary most every summer until I got older and wanted to do other things. I remember there were times I went for different camps or events. I enjoyed getting away and for most of the visits I was in a room alone because the other girls did not want to room with a black girl. I was real good with that. Being the spoiled, selfish, self-centered person I was I couldn't have asked for a better set up. The only black girl who may have come from time to time could wear the white hat. I guess they just didn't want to room with me because I was never taught to wear the white hat. It was something that didn't come up for discussion on my home. And my mother and father both when I was growing up was always for blacks. They both held supervisory positions. My father was a Chief in the Navy.
Her main goal is that she wanted her children to be a success. She was always very adamant she wanted the best for us. We received new everything every Christmas. Our birthday parties were fabulous. Our wardrobe for back to school was a given and she even went as far to buy us a set of clothes to play in. We had a new coat for school and a new coat to play in most every year. When holidays like Easter, Christmas, Valentine's Day came around she brought us new stuff. We got what was trending.
As for me, she was tough on what grades I received. Most of my play items revolved around educational games. I was often ahead of what ever they we were studying in school. I took study aide classes for the fun of it. I learned the four R's (read, review, write reread). I normally did it ahead of the material being covered in class. The one thing I can honestly say I detested was when she showed up to beat me if my grades were not up to par. My brother could fell everything backwards and he was still her baby. During my formative years it was mainly just me and my brother as far as siblings. My knee brother was raised by his paternal grandparents and my youngest brother there is an age gap of fourteen years. He was basically a toddler when I left to go away to college. He got more than most all the rest of us because he got a private school education. My knee brother ran the city where he was raised so he went to public school, not that they could not well afford private schooling.
I'm at the hospital typing this. My mother is in her hospital room resting. She was in a lot of pain when we first arrived via a fire truck which is by standard the emergency medical vehicle that comes to pick her up because it is just two and half blocks away from her home. Once we got to the emergency room they rushed her right in faster than I ever known them to do. Her temperature was a whopping 103.5 degrees. It was 102 degrees when we left the house when the EMT checked it. Her temperature went up on the ride over.
Her supra cubic catheter is yet causing another urinary tract infection (UTI). My mother always had said she was never going to let anyone cut on her no matter how bad off she got. I am sitting here wondering why it did not apply to this apparatus. They changed it in ER and they changed it again once she was assigned to a room. I'm thinking there should be a better way, especially for women.
I guess it is one of those things were the benefits far outweigh the complicity of it all. It is a great help in that since she is wheel chair bound she does not have to worry about the arduous task of getting on the toilet when she has to go to the bathroom. Dang if you do and dang if you don't.
Now that I have drifted as far as the seven seas. I guess because it hurts me just as much or more than hurts her I am very sorrowful two of her sons have not come to see her once in the past almost two years. I think it is a travesty. I can understand the friends and extended family members that abandoned her, but her own sons I find it hard to take. I know people have their own lives and she has had this disease (Multiple Sclerosis) for a long while and maybe it is just too much for them to continue on. The doctors only gave her a year to live about two decades ago and she has been winning every year.
The pain in her face I know it is from the heartbreak. She mentions it all the time. She says F* them but I know she cares. How can she not care. I get it that they want to remember her in the best of shape. But the worst of shape she is in now I don't feel is all her disease, I think it is from heart ache.
Like the old familiar saying goes, what makes you laugh will also make you cry. Lord I am asking that you heal her heart, wipe away the sorrow that shows across her face, put the s back in her miles and restore her smile. This and all things I ask in your name.
The prayer I have been reciting all week is the Serenity Prayer. "Lord help me to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
A silent word to myself for my mother, you may not have wanted any daughters but God knew you needed to have me. To God be the Glory because he will right every story. Amen!
My mother has a lot of years experience in the medical field. She is very familiar with the terminally. The advance stages of diseases do not come uneasy to her because she retired as Supervisor of the Tumor Registry at a Navy Medical Command here in Virginia. She was one of the founding members of the Society of Tumor Registrars. She has worked with doctors from varied backgrounds from her initial days in the medical profession in medical records.
When we are at the hospital she is normally the one very well versed in the medications she takes. She can pronounce them, knows the side effects, and probably a whole lot more than the average patient. I remember the days when she was working tirelessly to advance up to the level she attained prior to her disability retirement. She went out on disability retirement after 29-1/2 years of loyal and dedicated service to Civil Service. She not only worked civil service she worked part time jobs too. She most often worked part time as a cashier. I remember once she even worked part time cleaning offices. Her initial position as a cashier started out on the base in the commissary.
The past couple of years have been really rough. My mother all her life has supported a whole lot of crutches. She has kept a roof over the heads of others who could not afford their own roof. Over the past couple of years as we have grown closer and she has shared a whole lot with me one thing that keeps resonating is how all the people she assisted for so long have turned their backs on her. And she says thats okay I did my part.
Deep down inside I know it hurts. I saw all the sacrifices she made. I saw all the hard work she put in. My mother was a very beautiful woman. She really did not have to work as hard as she did because my father was a good provider. Also, my other brother's family had lots of money. Even though she would never marry him, she was offered a brand newly constructed home in an upscale neighborhood if she would have all expenses paid. However, my mother was used to making her own way when necessary and she was not the type who could be bought to settle for what she did not want.
If you have read my previous postings you know my grandparents were instrumental in raising me. My mother often reflects on how my grandfather thanked her on his death bed for always being there and supporting the family because he told her he doesn't know what they would have done without her.
I know my mother was always a champion of others. During the holidays, back to school, and other times when others needed support financially, or just a listening ear my mother was there. When people were sick my mother was there. When families grieved my mother was there. Even though my parents divorced back in 1971 they remained friends and looked out for each other as much as two best friends would until my father went on to be with the Lord back in 2008. She was closer to my father than I was.
Now as I see her suffer so much I often ask why. I know there is a deep rooted bitterness in watching her in pain and suffering so much. I keep running across our history in my own mind. I often reflect out of all the people in the world she was close to I was probably the one at odds with her the most. She always told she didn't want any girls. I was raised by a no nonsense grandmother and I was tough enough to take it. I didn't fall apart. I know a lot of the reasoning behind it was the Freudian concepts. So much so that it was one of the reasons that inspired me to want to be a psychiatrist. When I first started college at Jackson State University in Jackson, Mississippi that was the focus of my major. I was on a four year academic scholarship. The reason why I even found out about the college is because one of the psychiatrists she worked with at Boone Clinic in Norfolk had graduated from their as his undergrad and his mother was a professor there.
My mother's mantra irregardless of our sour relationship was that her children were never going to want for anything. She really spoiled us. When it came to finances, we never saw money issues. She would give us an allowance very week without fail. Often times she would keep the house so supplied even when she did not live with us until we were pretty much in high school she always made sure we had.
She would let us participate in any event we wanted to. I remember she would pay for me to go to band camp at William and Mary most every summer until I got older and wanted to do other things. I remember there were times I went for different camps or events. I enjoyed getting away and for most of the visits I was in a room alone because the other girls did not want to room with a black girl. I was real good with that. Being the spoiled, selfish, self-centered person I was I couldn't have asked for a better set up. The only black girl who may have come from time to time could wear the white hat. I guess they just didn't want to room with me because I was never taught to wear the white hat. It was something that didn't come up for discussion on my home. And my mother and father both when I was growing up was always for blacks. They both held supervisory positions. My father was a Chief in the Navy.
Her main goal is that she wanted her children to be a success. She was always very adamant she wanted the best for us. We received new everything every Christmas. Our birthday parties were fabulous. Our wardrobe for back to school was a given and she even went as far to buy us a set of clothes to play in. We had a new coat for school and a new coat to play in most every year. When holidays like Easter, Christmas, Valentine's Day came around she brought us new stuff. We got what was trending.
As for me, she was tough on what grades I received. Most of my play items revolved around educational games. I was often ahead of what ever they we were studying in school. I took study aide classes for the fun of it. I learned the four R's (read, review, write reread). I normally did it ahead of the material being covered in class. The one thing I can honestly say I detested was when she showed up to beat me if my grades were not up to par. My brother could fell everything backwards and he was still her baby. During my formative years it was mainly just me and my brother as far as siblings. My knee brother was raised by his paternal grandparents and my youngest brother there is an age gap of fourteen years. He was basically a toddler when I left to go away to college. He got more than most all the rest of us because he got a private school education. My knee brother ran the city where he was raised so he went to public school, not that they could not well afford private schooling.
I'm at the hospital typing this. My mother is in her hospital room resting. She was in a lot of pain when we first arrived via a fire truck which is by standard the emergency medical vehicle that comes to pick her up because it is just two and half blocks away from her home. Once we got to the emergency room they rushed her right in faster than I ever known them to do. Her temperature was a whopping 103.5 degrees. It was 102 degrees when we left the house when the EMT checked it. Her temperature went up on the ride over.
Her supra cubic catheter is yet causing another urinary tract infection (UTI). My mother always had said she was never going to let anyone cut on her no matter how bad off she got. I am sitting here wondering why it did not apply to this apparatus. They changed it in ER and they changed it again once she was assigned to a room. I'm thinking there should be a better way, especially for women.
I guess it is one of those things were the benefits far outweigh the complicity of it all. It is a great help in that since she is wheel chair bound she does not have to worry about the arduous task of getting on the toilet when she has to go to the bathroom. Dang if you do and dang if you don't.
Now that I have drifted as far as the seven seas. I guess because it hurts me just as much or more than hurts her I am very sorrowful two of her sons have not come to see her once in the past almost two years. I think it is a travesty. I can understand the friends and extended family members that abandoned her, but her own sons I find it hard to take. I know people have their own lives and she has had this disease (Multiple Sclerosis) for a long while and maybe it is just too much for them to continue on. The doctors only gave her a year to live about two decades ago and she has been winning every year.
The pain in her face I know it is from the heartbreak. She mentions it all the time. She says F* them but I know she cares. How can she not care. I get it that they want to remember her in the best of shape. But the worst of shape she is in now I don't feel is all her disease, I think it is from heart ache.
Like the old familiar saying goes, what makes you laugh will also make you cry. Lord I am asking that you heal her heart, wipe away the sorrow that shows across her face, put the s back in her miles and restore her smile. This and all things I ask in your name.
The prayer I have been reciting all week is the Serenity Prayer. "Lord help me to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
A silent word to myself for my mother, you may not have wanted any daughters but God knew you needed to have me. To God be the Glory because he will right every story. Amen!
