It's A New Dawn, It's A New Day, It's A New Li-i-i-ife, For Me-e-e-e

Thanks to Nina Simone and apologies to readers, if any, for the world's longest blog entry title.

There have been a few articles lately in my local paper about the liberating effect the death of parents can have upon adult children. (Sorry, can't find them to link to now.) They haven't made the distinction between the first parent going, which means more stress from looking after the needy surviving parent, and the second one going, which means it's OVER. But they have talked about how one can bloom when relieved of caregiving and other parental pressures.

Sis and I have talked a little about this. We both kind of feel adrift, as if we can't quite absorb yet that it's really over. We're both looking forward to concentrating on taking care of ourselves from now on. Neither of us has any kids (if we had, they'd be grown by now anyway). Neither of us has a husband to look after, and if anyone comes sniffing around for the job, he'll have to be the independent type, because neither of us has any intention of becoming a man's Mommy.

We both have things we want to do, that we haven't been able to do in recent years. For her, it's been a lot longer than for me. Before Dad got sick, she got laid off and then got divorced, so while my family pressure goes back to August 2004, her goes back to 9/11. We're both looking forward to realizing some dreams.

I have two knitting books in mind, and a few others gradually congealing into solid ideas in the back of my mind. One of my knitting books could be written in a few months. The other would take a solid year, but would be worth doing.

I also have an apartment that looks like a cyclone hit it. That's a few months' work right there, and I need to get through a good chunk of it before I can possibly sit down to write.

But there are no more reasons to hold back. I need a little more rest, and Sis still needs some help closing up Mom's house. But for the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward with eagerness.

Whew

Services for Mom were lovely. Naturally, in the middle of the week of preparations I got a cold that knocked me on my butt for two solid days (haven't quite shaken it yet), and I had to sing at the Mass, but it went okay.

It was a long day. Mass was at 10am, then a reception at a nearby hotel starting at noon, set up by Bro (good job, Bro). When most of the non-family guests had left, the family gathered in a hospitality room, and that went on way too long, especially for those of us who drink plain soda. The "I love you"s started around 2pm, so that gives you an idea. Lil' Sis (not the one who was taking care of Mom) provided some impressive drunken drama at the end of the evening (think Linda Blair), but an aunt trumped her by being too toasted to be allowed to board her redeye flight: the 27 paramedics didn't realize until after they got her to the hospital that what they thought were stroke symptoms were simply those last two Chardonnays in the airport lounge.

Some cousins relieved me of chauffering Lil' Sis and her son yesterday to their respective departure points, to my very great relief. I got home around 8:30, checked email, watched some TV and crashed. I've been nodding out at the office today. I feel like I could sleep for a month. I can only imagine what Sis feels like.

The End

Well, I guess Mom knew what she was doing, or some part of her did, when she refused any more food or water.

She passed peacefully Sunday afternoon. I was planning to go up for the weekend, but after talking to Sis about how Mom was saying, "We're going soon, right? Oh darn, I don't know where my purse is. When are we going?", I thought I better go a day earlier, so I was there Friday, which turned out to be her last sort of conscious day. She couldn't open her eyes or talk, but when my 7-year-old niece, the apple of her eye, came in and said, "Hi, Grandma," and touched her face, she broke into a big smile. She knew we were all there.

But that night she started to cough violently and painfully, so Sis gave her caregiver the go-ahead to give her the full dose of methadone from then on so she didn't have to go through that. So from Friday night on, she wasn't conscious.

I thought she might go a few more days like that, but we noticed Sunday morning that her breathing was shallower and slower than on Saturday, and at about 5 o'clock got noticeably shallower still, and by 5:30 she was gone.

It was teary at that moment, naturally. But now, the relief is palpable. All evening I've been muttering, "Thank you, God."

We don't have all the arrangements set up yet. So we still have services to do. And then Sis will need help clearing that house, and finding a place, and she'll need a lot of support in coming months to get back on her feet. So my work isn't done, and Sis's certainly isn't. But it's not a crisis anymore. It's been years of crisis, and it's over. Thank you, God.

No More Vicodin

That stuff is vile. It's been three weeks since my elbow fracture, and I am so done with Vicodin.

I really needed it that first week. I noticed that if I forgot to take it at night, I couldn't sleep, and that bothered me, but my elbow hurt and I wasn't about to give it up at that point.

By the second week I was uncomfortable enough to keep using it, but I could have made do on some of the days. This past week, especially by the end of the week, I would forget to take it -- and then go into withdrawal. I actually went ahead and took half a tab to stop the withdrawal once or twice, but yesterday I couldn't because I had to be out and about driving, and I felt like such crap (achy, nauseous) that I decided I do not want to feel like that ever again.

So that's it. Day 2 with none at all, and my elbow hurts a little, but nothing Tylenol alone can't handle. I feel crappy, like the flu's coming on, but that'll pass. And guess what? I slept pretty well the last two nights. Not perfect, but not half bad.

I never took more than one at a time, and never more than three in a day, for less than three weeks, and this is what happened. I can't imagine what those people who take them by the handful for years must go through to withdraw. God willing, I'll never know.

Meanwhile, Mom had her own drug drama this weekend. She, too, had been on Vicodin, but got severely -- painfully -- constipated on it. With her RA, she can't move around, which exacerbates the problem. Hospice switched her to methadone, at obviously too high a dose. She went psychotic Saturday morning when her caregiver was changing her, and then refused to eat. Sis put me on the phone to her yesterday, and I told her she had to drink some water at least, and Sis said that she did accept some after I spoke with her. She still wouldn't eat until later in the evening, and then only a few bites. But she evidently had a bit of breakfast this morning.

Odd parallel. In fact, I wonder if at some level my elbow fracture was about giving me a hint of what Mom's been experiencing.

Oh, yeah, I have a physical therapy appointment for Friday 4/18. I'm supposed to go three times a week for four weeks. Never done PT before. Hope it doesn't hurt too much. But whether it does or not, NO VICODIN.

Friday

Elbow is coming along. The orthopedist told me Tuesday he's prescribing physical therapy for me and that his secretary would be calling me Thursday with the referral. Predictably, she didn't. I called her; this was the first she'd heard of it. So she promised me a referral by Monday afternoon, which I take to mean sometime on Wednesday.

Meanwhile, I'm driving on the freeway again. I can use my left hand for turn signals and can hold the wheel briefly. Can't do a hand-over-hand right turn, but that'll come. Can't turn my palm flat upright, but can turn it a lot more than I could even a few days ago. So, by no means 100%, but improving inch-wise.

Mom's status quo. I keep feeling like it's going to be any minute, then remembering how many times she's made a monkey out of me. Sis is looking for a way out. God, please, PLEASE let this be over soon. Please.

Well, This Is Different

It took until Tuesday afternoon before I could see an orthopedist, who squeezed me in. The first thing he did after looking at my x-rays was remove the cast -- it was actually a plaster splint. He said this particular type of injury needs movement to heal. He's got me squeezing things this week, and next week he'll start me on physical therapy.

So I went into work the next day, Wednesday, and did too much typing. Couldn't wait to get home to get some Vicodin in me. Hurt like hell the next day, and I actually had a second prescription for Vicodin from the orthopedist (the first one was from the ER), so I went to a pharmacy near the office and filled that, and took one at work, at around 11:30 am, so it was worn off by the time I had to drive home. Then I took another as soon as I got home, and another before I went to bed.

I've had a couple today too (meaning Friday, though it's after midnight so technically it's Saturday, but I mean Friday). And now I feel a little weird and although my arm hurts, I'm not sure if I want to take one tonight. Still debating.

I've been driving with one hand, and so I've been doing my 20-mile commute on surface streets only, because I don't feel confident of handling the car at freeway speeds without the use of my left hand. So it takes forever. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting, and a friend is picking me up so I don't have to drive at all, whew.

However, today I was able to put my left hand on the wheel, and actually hold it, with my right hand off, for a few seconds. For 5 days after a fracture, that's pretty good if you ask me. That means next time I have to go see Mom/Sis, I will probably be able to drive.

Sis says Mom is less and less lucid. She really thinks it won't be long now; but we've been saying that for so many months. On the one hand, you should pardon the expression, I'm hoping it waits until driving isn't an issue for me; but on the other, I've prayed for a year and a half for this to be over soon, and I'll take it however, and whenever, it comes.

First-Ever Broken Bone

This post will be very short because I'm typing one-handed. I fell today and broke my elbow! At least two fractures, maybe three. My left arm is in a cast. Can't use it for much of anything. No idea yet how long until it's off. Need to see an orthopedist, tomorrow if I can.

Not fun. Got Vicodin, didn't think I'd need it, but it's starting to hurt, even though before it only hurt if I moved it certain ways that I can't in this thing; so I think I will use the Vicodin tonight.