Grandma, Part 1

My reaction to my Grandma’s death was very similar to what others have expressed: speechlessness. A part of me just feels numb from the pain of losing both Grandparents just 3 weeks apart. I am again reminded of how insensitive I have been towards others in the past. I used to think that if a person was sick and you knew they were going to die soon, that it somehow was easier to lose them.

But I was again, so wrong. We had been preparing ourselves to lose Grandma for the past several years, but that still didn’t lessen the pain of losing her. Writing these posts is going to be very difficult for me, and probably hard to read as well. We don’t believe in putting up facades, but rather try to post about the way things are. Life includes times of brokenness and beauty, joy and pain, peace and turmoil.

Before I talk about her actual death and the events following that, we have to go back about 16 years for some background on Grandma . . .

Back in 1997, Grandma was diagnosed with acute emphysema after she finally admitted to getting winded quite often. She had been a heavy smoker since she was 12 years old (she grew up on a tobacco farm) and that bad habit had finally caught up with her. The doctor gave her 2 or 3 more years to live if she continued smoking, and 5 or 6 more years if she quit. She quit cold-turkey.

Over time, her breathing continued to deteriorate slowly. Simple tasks like climbing a few steps or walking across the room became harder and harder as the years went by. But she was beating the odds the doctor had given her!

As time went on, we began to notice her hands trembling. She had trouble spilling things and knocking dishes together. In 2006, she was diagnosed officially with Parkinson’s Disease. Once again, she was only given about 2 more years to live.

Her health continued deteriorating from there. Several times she ended up in the hospital due to breathing complications or after a tough fall. There were many times when I thought we were going to lose her. But each time, she rallied and got well enough to leave rehab and go back home.

We visited Grandma and Grandpa in March, just before Easter. I distinctly remember standing out in their garage and thinking “I wonder if this is the last time we’ll have a normal visit here at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”

On April 13—the day before we left on our cruise—she went into the hospital again. I think she might have fallen and they were concerned that she may have broken a hip. Following that hospital stay, she went into the skilled care section of a nursing home just a few miles from their house. She never went home after that. My uncle who is a physician had warned us of that.

When we went to visit her for Mother’s day, we honestly didn’t think she’d make it through the end of the year. She didn’t remember some of us, and her medicines were very imbalanced which caused her to have bad stomach problems and issues with slurring her speech. But once again, she rallied and surprised us in the summertime by how well she was doing, relative to all that happened. By then we knew that she would never come home, but we hoped that maybe we could move her to a nursing home in Texas or Florida so she could be near family.

At Christmas, we were very thankful that she was still with us. She was doing relatively well relative to earlier in the year. She spoke clearly, remembered who we all were (most of the time) and wasn’t having trouble with her stomach. Reflecting back, that time was such a blessing to our family. I am so thankful that she was doing well for her very last Christmas here on earth.

The week before Grandpa died, Grandma went into ICU because of a breathing/panic attack. Following that episode, she never stood up on her own again. She needed two orderlies to lift her up and she was always in her wheelchair.

Although she was pretty stoic about Grandpa’s death, we could tell that she was still grieving inside. She had an empty look in her eyes. What we didn’t imagine was that we would never see her again, following that visit.

The week of her death, Dad and his sister had been doing serious research into nursing homes in Florida and Texas. We hated the idea of Grandma being all by herself up in Pennsylvania. They had found a home in Texas that had openings in their skilled care unit, and they were preparing to ask Grandma if she would be willing to move.

~Friday, February 8~

Today Mom and I went out to run a few errands, just the two of us. I talked with her in the car a little bit about Grandma’s situation. I confided that I honestly didn’t believe she would live much longer. I hadn’t said anything to the rest of the family because I didn’t want to discourage them, but when we saw her in January, I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be around when we were planning to visit her in March. Dad thought she would live another 6 months at least. I honestly didn’t think she would survive a move, nor want to move. Even if she did move to Texas, I was pretty sure we would have to turn around and head back to Pennsylvania for her funeral.

Just that week, the nursing home had started to give Grandma pureed foods because she couldn’t swallow properly (one of the final stages of Parkinsons.) She had also been drinking thickened liquids since her stay in ICU.

That same day, Dad went into his boss’ office and told him that he thought we’d be making another trip to Pennsylvania this year to do a funeral for my Grandma.

That evening, I tucked myself in under my layers of blankets 15 minutes before my bedtime. I had woken up tired that morning, and was exhausted by the end of the day. I was really looking forward to a good night’s sleep.

Just after 11:00 p.m., the phone rings. At that hour, I know it can’t be good news, especially since all our family and most of our friends live in the Eastern Time Zone where it was already midnight. I quickly text Dad downstairs: “I’m never going to be able to sleep wondering who called at this hour? ~ Bianca”

Mom came up to my room, and as soon as she turned the lamp on and I saw her face, I knew what had happened. When she told me that Grandma had died, my first reaction was just shock. After she left the room, I burst into tears. I just couldn’t believe this was happening all over again. I was hurt and angry. Why did God allow us to lose you and Grandpa just three weeks apart? Didn’t He know that my shattered heart still hadn’t healed from losing Grandpa? Why didn’t He allow us to have time to say goodbye, to be by your side when you passed? How could He take you away from me?

I finally realized I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, so I went downstairs to Mom and Dad’s room. Dad was still on the phone. Mom told me that one of the nurses had gone to check on Grandma just before midnight and found her not breathing. She had a no-resuscitation order, so she was gone.

We were very grateful that all evidence pointed to a peaceful death. There are many painful ways to die of Parkinson’s…we were glad that she didn’t suffer any of those.

I went back upstairs to try to sleep again, but got up when Mom went into the office to scan a picture to send to my Aunt. I offered to do it since I couldn’t sleep anyway. I stayed up until about 2:00 a.m. working on a picture slideshow for the funeral.

~Saturday, February 9~

Daddy woke me up around 8:00 a.m. this morning and we all gathered in the boys’ room where Mom and Dad broke the news to the other kids. I think they were sad, but had known it was coming eventually. We quickly began packing while Dad looked up flights and made reservations.

~Sunday, February 10~

I woke up around 5:00 a.m. this morning to get ready. We packed up our things in the minivan and left the house around 6:00 a.m. to head for the airport. After re-routing a couple times around the airport, we finally found the parking lot. We caught the shuttle,  checked in, and went through security.

That’s when the problems began. Our flight was supposed to leave around 9:00 a.m. We boarded the plane, pushed back, and watched the flight attendants perform the safety demo. But then we stopped and pulled back in. The Captain announced that there was a problem with one of the indicators and they had a mechanic coming out to fix it.

We waited on the plane for about 45 minutes. The Captain came back on and said that it would be awhile before they had the plane fixed, so we were instructed to gather our luggage, go get something to eat in the airport, and return to the terminal in about 45 minutes.

So we went and got some bagels while we sat and waited for the plane to be fixed.

Photo Credit: Roma.

 After another hour of waiting, they finally announced that our plane was headed for the hanger and they were looking for a new plane. I was very thankful that we had a direct flight. Otherwise we would have surely missed our connection.

Another 45 minutes to an hour later, they announced our new gate. We gathered all our things, arrived at the new terminal, and waited another ½-hour to board that plane. Once we were on the plane, we waited extra long to take off because they needed to stock the plane. We FINALLY took off around 12:30 p.m., 3 ½ hours late.

We made it to the airport in Ohio and picked up our rental car to drive over to Pennsylvania. We stopped along the way to get a snack, and arrived at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in PA after 7:00 p.m. It had been a long and exhausting day, so we were grateful to have finally arrived.

Despite the circumstances, it was good to have brief moments of comic relief. Josiah borrowed our cousin’s aviator sunglasses and struck this pose. Too bad he doesn’t know about the bunny ears Aunt Debbie is giving him. J

To be continued . . .