So yeah, some of you that read my blog regularly or are my friends probably know that my grandmother had a massive stroke a few weeks ago. After the back and forth of one doctor or nurse being optimistic or pessimistic, they have finally decided she isn’t going to recover. So this weekend, I’m guessing tomorrow, they are removing her feeding tube and meds and just going to morphine and other palliative drugs. One the one hand I know that’s what she’d want, but while I’ve known about this for a week or so I guess I’ve been in denial because it’s just started to hit me over the last day and a half or so.
I’m on fairly large amounts of antidepressants to deal with my anxiety so I almost feel like my emotions are somewhat deadened a lot of the time. I should have been freaked out about this for weeks now but it’s only in the last day and a half as I said that it’s really sunk in, and in strange ways. She actually gave my mom a shamrock plant when her and my dad got divorced and we moved back to Georgia and my mom was starting law school. I’m too tired and drunk to figure out when that was but it had to be in the mid to later 80s. I inherited the plant when my mom moved to California a few years back and it’s still going strong. I find it amazing that a plant could live for 20 plus years and I’ve also been taking special care of it lately. It’s like I feel like it’s kind of a surrogate for my Mama and if I let it die it would be a very bad thing. I know that sounds crazy but it’s really how I feel.
Also people keep asking me if I’m going down to Augusta to the hospital, but my mom actually doesn’t want me to and maybe out of cowardice I agree with her. It’s not like on tv where the cancer patient passes away with her whole family around her and gets to say goodbye. She basically doesn’t know who anyone is and once they remove the feeding tube she could die anywhere from 3 days to 2 weeks according to the doctors. I’d honestly rather remember her as she was than as she is now. I don’t know if that’s cowardice and justification on my part though.
Anyway, it’s not like I’m the first person to go through this and I won’t be the last and I should be considering myself lucky that she’s lived to 93. It’s just that I’m an only child and she’s my last grandparent and it’s harder than I would have thought it would be. I don’t at all mean to act like I’m on par with people that have lost parents or siblings or whatever at a relatively young age. I’ve just been relatively lucky when it comes to dealing with death in my life and I think that has left me somewhat ill equipped for it.
Thanks for the kind thoughts and reading this rambling discourse.