15 years ago today – July 2nd, 1993

{Be advised that this posting falls under the Bummer Alert that I presented on 6/25/08.}

It was a Friday. I drove from Columbus to my Dad’s house where my family was readying for Mom’s funeral.

All sorts of dishes of food started arriving at Dad’s house from neighbors, relatives, and other friends of the family.

I remember that I had forgotten to bring back a tie as well as some deodorant from Columbus. I just wasn’t thinking clearly at all, so I drove to Tiffin and bought a couple things.

When I got back, we all went to the funeral home with Dad to pick out Mom’s casket. Dad picked a very nice, expensive, cherry unit. I don’t think Mom would have approved. I’m fairly confident that Mom would’ve rather had a much cheaper model, but we let Dad buy what he wanted.

The funeral director gathered us in a circle and attempted some group grief counseling. I don’t think it went very well, at least not for me. I recall I didn’t have much to say. I sat there silently and watched as folks walked or drove by the funeral home window, unfazed by my tragedy. A feeling of rage at the world started to grow in me.

I don’t remember what I did with the rest of the afternoon, but I do remember Dad was acting really strange. One moment he was talkative and joking, and the next minute he was crumpled on the floor saying he couldn’t go on. I suppose when your spouse of 43+ years is suddenly gone forever, you might not cope well.

That evening we had the first viewing at the funeral home. The mortician did an okay job, as Mom looked a lot better. She had decent color to her skin, not the white/gray pallor from the previous day, but she still looked a little bloated from all the excess fluid that had ultimately killed her.

Mom was wearing her favorite outfit – a gray suit with a pink blouse. Sister #1 and Aunt M1 had picked it out.

For about three hours we stood in a line near Mom’s casket as various friends and relatives filed past. Many claimed to have seen her the previous Sunday at church. They would say, “We didn’t know she was sick.” I said several times, “We didn’t know either.”

Everybody asked how she died. I told bits and pieces of the truth for most of the evening, but then I realized that the truth wasn’t what these folks wanted to hear. They wanted to hear something like, “She didn’t suffer long” or “She died in her sleep.” Towards the end of the evening, I started to tell the mourners the lies that I knew they wanted to hear.

After the evening’s visitation, we all returned to Dad’s house. More visitors arrived with food and prayers. I didn’t want to deal with anyone. I retreated to the privacy of Dad’s basement, and looked through the “overflow” refrigerator that Mom kept down there. There were some of Mom’s leftovers from the previous week. I snacked on some of Mom’s home-made macaroni salad.

After I finished off the macaroni salad, I realized I would never taste her macaroni salad again. Then I realized that each time I finished off some other container of Mom’s leftovers, it would be the last time I would eat that particular dish.

W quote time

I thought I'd take a little break from my depressing "15 years ago today" series with a little W quote. Here it is:

"I don't know all the facts. I want to know all the facts. The best place for the facts is to be done is by somebody who's spending time investigating it." - 2005

Um, that third sentence is a little messed-up, but I think I understand. Yes, W. Please don't bother with those pesky facts. They just get in the way. We all know THAT story.

Okay. Back to the "15 years ago today" series. I know it sucks, but since I started I must finish it. There will be three more of those somber posts.

15 years ago today – July 1st, 1993

{Be advised that this posting falls under the Bummer Alert that I presented on 6/25/08.}

It was a Thursday. I got up early again and made the three hour drive to Toledo.

I walked into Mom’s room. Things were clearly not going well. The doctors had been unable to get Mom’s kidneys to function. This hospital did not have a dialysis machine. Mom’s ventilator was filling with bloody fluid from Mom’s lungs.

Around 10am the doctors gave us the same bogus pep talk they had given us the day before. They said, “Your mother is strong. We just need to adjust the diuretics a bit to get her kidneys functioning again.”

Around 11am I was standing by Mom’s bed when two technicians walked into the room. They looked over the ventilator and then unplugged the machine. Mom struggled to breath. Her eyes bulged.

The technicians halted what they were doing and started chit-chatting about some baseball game from the previous evening.

I approached the technicians and said, “Hey! What are doing?! She can’t breath!”

One of the techs went back to fiddling with the ventilator while the other tech turned to me and said with attitude, “Just hold on a second. We’ll get the ventilator working again after we check out a couple things.”

I think the techs were clearing some accumulated blood and materials from a filter.

Mom continued to struggle for air. She looked at me with wide, questioning eyes. I was powerless to help her.

The techs finally reinserted the filter and turned the ventilator back on. Mom was able to breathe again. I wanted to kill the technicians. I had to leave the room.

I had been considering a return to school to possibly change careers and pursue something in the medical field. After watching the staff at this hospital and how they treated patients and their families, I decided I didn’t want to become like them. I realize now that, to survive in that profession, one must desensitize one's self to peoples’ suffering. If I would have to change careers someday, I’d rather not work in a hospital. Anything would be better than dealing with death every day, and seeing families being ripped apart.

A little later, Sister #2 finally pulled me aside and told me Mom probably wouldn’t make it through the day without a dialysis machine. Mom was drowning in her own fluids. Sister #2 also told me that Dad and I were the only family members who had been without this info. She just didn’t know how to tell us.

Around noon, the doctors pulled our family into Mom’s room and asked us if they should transfer Mom to a larger hospital in the Toledo area. They said that there was a dialysis machine there, and that was Mom’s last chance. WTF!? Just two hours before, everything was going to be fine, but now we were down to our last chance? Incredible! Also, Mom was in the room and she was still lucid! Great bedside manner, you fucking jerks!

This reminds me of a line from a Sopranos episode where Tony says something like the following, “Doctors will tell you everything is fine…until it isn’t.” So true, Tony. So true.

We tearfully looked at each other. We all wanted to give Mom a chance. Sister #1 asked Mom is she was strong enough for a move to another hospital. Mom nodded her head yes.

They loaded Mom into an ambulance to rush her to the larger hospital. I recall running with Brother #3, I mean really running, through the smaller hospital’s parking lot to get to my truck so that I could follow the ambulance. I ran as if my life was at stake. I know I never ran like that before or since.

We got to the larger hospital. The staff there claimed Mom was too weak to be hooked-up to their dialysis machine. The jig was up.

Brother #1 and his wife, CC, arrived from Columbus. The entire family was finally together. Aunt M1 arrived too. We took turns holding Mom’s hand. Mom was still lucid.

Shortly after 4pm, Sister #2 rushed out to the waiting room and started ushering us toward Mom’s room. I made it to Mom’s bedside just in time to see a tear roll down from her blank eyes and to hear the heart monitor start flat-lining. It was 4:12pm. Mom was dead.

I recall lingering around Mom’s room for about an hour. The events of the day hadn’t fully registered yet.

Sister #2 and Dad made some arrangements with the hospital to send Mom to a funeral home a few miles from home.

I remember driving back towards Dad’s farm in the rain, not really paying attention to my speed or to the other drivers.

I also remember stopping to refuel my truck in Fostoria. While refueling, I used a payphone to call my boss, FDuh, at his home to let him know that I wouldn’t be at work for a fourth day in a row. FDuh wanted me to drop by work the following day with a statement from Mom’s doctors proving Mom was really sick. I had worked for FDuh for four years without incident. Like I said before, FDuh was a true jerk.

I told FDuh, “Mom just died. The funeral is Saturday. I can get you a copy of the obituary next week.”

FDuh didn’t have any response. The line was silent. I hung up the phone and continued on my way back to Dad’s farm.

My family reassembled at Dad’s house. Dad said he talked to the funeral home director and the first viewing would be the next day at 7pm. Since I didn’t have a suit with me, I told Dad that I was going back to Columbus to get a suit and some other stuff.

Brother #2 followed me out to my truck. He said, “Why didn’t you bring a suit with you? Didn’t you know what was going to happen?”

I didn’t know what to say. Sister #2 had obviously warned Brother #2 and my other siblings that Mom wasn’t going to last long, but she didn’t tell me until that morning. I said, “No, I didn’t know. I believed what the doctors were telling us.” I jumped in my truck and headed back to Columbus.

I remember the drive back to Columbus in the rain. I remember listening to Sting’s just released Fields of Gold on the radio, and how appropriate some of the lyrics seemed, and again, I know I wasn’t paying attention to my speed or the other drivers. I’m lucky to have made it back to Columbus in one piece.

I slept briefly that night, and had some crazy dreams where Mom was really still alive, and the previous day had been some big misunderstanding.

I didn’t realize that those dreams would be repeated over and over again for many years to come.

15 years ago today – June 30th, 1993

{Be advised that this posting falls under the Bummer Alert that I presented on 6/25/08.}

It was a Wednesday. I got up early again and made the three hour drive to Toledo.

When I walked into Mom’s room, I was shocked. They had placed Mom on a ventilator. She was still lucid, but couldn’t speak of course as she had been intibated.

Brother #2 from Philadelphia had arrived. It seemed that Sister #2 had called him the night before, and he caught the first flight to Ohio.

The doctors still seemed very positive about everything. It seemed the chemotherapy had caused Mom’s kidneys to shut-down, but they were working on getting Mom’s kidneys working again by adjusting her meds.

Like the previous day, I hung out at the hospital for most of the day.

Early in the evening, the doctors gave us another pep talk on how everything was going to be okay. Again, they said they just needed to adjust Mom’s meds a bit.

Sister #1 and Mr. Smug had moved to Southeastern Ohio a few months before, but they still had their old condo in the Toledo area. I was planning on staying there that night, but Dad told me to go back to Columbus. He felt everything was under control since the doctors kept feeding us positive information, and nothing would be gained by me missing work. With Dad’s blessing, I drove the three hours back to Columbus.

Around midnight I received another call from Sister #2. Again, she wondered why I had gone back to Columbus. I tried to explain. She told me that my presence was needed in Toledo the following day. The tone in her voice suggested an urgency that I’d never heard from her before. I agreed to return to Toledo in the morning, and we ended our conversation.

Then I noticed my answering machine had a message on it. It was from my boss, FDuh. He wanted an estimate for when I was going to be back at work. FDuh was truly a jerk. I had plenty of leave time available, and I had no important projects at work that needed my attention, but I knew he just felt as if he wasn’t in control of my every move.

I left yet another message for FDuh stating that I wouldn’t be at work for the third day in a row, and that I didn’t have any solid information on Mom’s prognosis.

Again, I wondered why Sister #2 had called me. The doctors still seemed positive about the situation. What was going on?

I didn’t realize then that Dad and I were the only members of the family in the dark about Mom’s condition.

15 years ago today – June 29th, 1993

{Be advised that this posting falls under the Bummer Alert that I presented on 6/25/08.}

It was a Tuesday. I got up early and made the three hour drive to a hospital near Toledo.

I wandered around the hospital for a while, and finally found Mom’s room. Dad, Sister #1, and Sister #2 were there, as well as Sister #2’s kids.

Mom didn’t look well. She was having trouble breathing and talking.

The oncologist sat us down and gave us a pep talk about how Mom was strong and there wasn’t any reason not to expect good results from the chemotherapy.

I hung out at the hospital for most of the day. Brother #3, and Mom’s sister, Aunt M1, stopped by too.

Early in the evening, I decided to head back to Columbus. The doctor had given us yet another pep talk and he seemed upbeat about things, and it looked as it Mom had gotten a little stronger through the day.

I talked to Dad and he agreed that I should go back to Columbus and my job. He felt that I could come back during the upcoming weekend.

I spoke with Mom before I left. She asked that I help out Dad by mowing his yard and doing some chores around the farm, since she probably wouldn’t be able to help for a while. She said she loved me. I said I loved her.

I didn’t realize that conversation would be the last time I would hear my Mom speak.

I made the three hour drive back to Columbus.

Around midnight, I received another phone call from Sister #2. She wondered why I had driven back to Columbus. She said that I should come back the following day. Although I asked some questions, Sister #2 wouldn’t give out any details of why I needed to come back to Toledo the following day.

I left another message for my boss, FDuh, stating that I wouldn’t be at work for a second day in a row because of my Mom being in the hospital.

I wondered why Sister #2 had called me again. The doctors seemed positive about the situation. What was going on?

I didn’t realize that Sister #2 was keeping a secret from me.

Playing catch-up

I’m sitting here in the middle of the night, attempting to catch-up on bill paying, laundry, and other domestic chores that I let lapse this week, and I’ve got The Eagles Greatest Hits 1971-1975 playing in the background.

On and off during the 1980s and 1990s, I considered the Eagles to be my favorite group. I was influenced in this regard by Sister #2, who loves them.

I’ve often argued that the Eagles were one of the best groups, if not the best group, from the 1970s. They were certainly the most consistent super-group from that decade, busting out a new album every year or two throughout the 1970s, each one being loaded with their particular blend of easy listening, slightly countrified, rock.

I think the only other group to have a valid claim to the Best Band of the 1970s title would be Led Zeppelin. I agree that Led Zeppelin was cooler and more cutting edge, but I have to be in a certain mood to listen to LZ, but I can listen to the Eagles anytime.

There were certainly other groups from the 1970s that were huge; Journey, Foreigner, Styx, Queen, Bad Company, ZZ Top, Aerosmith, Boston, The Rolling Stones, and The Who to name a few. I like them all, but I think I’ll stick with the Eagles as my fav from that decade.

15 years ago today – June 28th, 1993

{Be advised that this posting falls under the Bummer Alert that I presented on 6/25/08.}

It was a Monday. I went to work knowing my Mom was in the hospital, but I didn’t know what she had, or how serious it was. I figured Sister #2 would let me know what was going on.

Late that evening I received a phone call from Sister #2. She said that Mom had been diagnosed with cancer. It was a form of leukemia that afflicts older folks. In fact, Mom’s Dad died of the same type of cancer back in 1968 after a long struggle with the disease.

Sister #2 said Mom was acting cranky as the oncologist had already started a round of chemotherapy, but she otherwise seemed to be in good spirits. Sister #1 had shown up that day as well, so Mom had plenty of family around.

Sister #2 suggested that I drive up to Toledo the following day, just to make an appearance.

After my conversation with Sister #2, I left a message for my boss, FDuh, to let him know that my Mom was in the hospital, and that I wouldn’t be at work the next day.

As I puttered nervously around my apartment that night, unable to sleep, I contemplated driving the round-trip between Columbus and Toledo each weekend while Mom battled cancer.

I didn’t realize then that I wouldn’t be doing any weekend driving to or from Toledo.