I am writing this from ER room #10 at UCH, the same room Mom was in about a week-and-a-half ago. Dad's gone for a walk and Jill's gone to get dinner, so I thought I'd share some thoughts I had earlier.
Once we were wheeled into the room and situated, vitals taken and intstructions given to be gentle with her damn skin and please speak to her on the right side, etc., (I'm not shy anymore about making her needs known) I sat and and held her hand and we stared at each other for a long time. I had a flashback to when Mom and I were with Grandpa Tinse at the Hospice center and I would sit and hold his hand and look into his eyes in the same way. And, he would look back the same way she does. I remember thinking back then, "How does he still have the will to live with everything that is going on?" I was looking into her eyes thinking the exact same thing and answering myself the same way I did then. He had, as I remember it, an iron grip on life, no matter what. And so does she. You cannot kick this lady out. Sepsis, uti, seizure....she seems to claw her way back from them all despite the odds.
I'm not sure if I relayed this deja vu experience very eloquently, but thought I'd share.
D
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