Having gone home, I’m now going home

4/1/08

Now I’m waiting in the Indianapolis airport for the flight (through Denver) for Seattle. I guess this is really going home. I’ve lived in the Northwest for more than half of my life.

So here’s a brief account of the memorial trip:

It was too late when we arrived to see many of Mother’s friends. But my cousins were all still there when I arrived. I was introduced to their kids and we swapped some stories of growing up together. I also got to talk with Mother’s brother, whom I hadn’t seen for 25 years. He and I have moved farther from the constraints of our Hoosier youth than any of my family, including my mother.

At the graveside ceremony today, Mother was remembered as “quite a Lady.”

I appreciated talking with our neighbor who is energetically planning her 100th birthday party July 5th.

Following the service, we all had barbeque sandwiches at my cousin’s house. She pulled out her family photo boxes and we all reminisced some more. My cousins are all salt of the earth. I got to spend some more time with my uncle and recognized that we have still more to talk about.

This brief time provided a place in my life for the grief, the pride, the disappointment, the unfinished conversations, the unmet expectations, the fond memories, all that history that leaves this world in a way when a person dies -- and leaves behind the strength of that person's life. My mother gave me a good start in life.

Following the family time, we drove to the Brown County woods for a look at the first house I designed and built. It’s changed, but the basic house and its relationship with the site continue to provide a rich structure for the personalization it’s owners have applied over the past several decades.

Now to move on with life with a big hole in it.

The last trip home

3/31/08


I’m sitting in the Denver airport, having missed the flight to Indianapolis because of “a light in the cockpit” requiring a return to the Seattle terminal. We were both sick over the weekend. It’s just as well we didn’t try to fly yesterday. But now I’ll miss most of the calling hours at the Funeral Home.

I’m sure Tom Wolfe’s definition of going home is more complex than mine, but I believe I am going home, at least for a day.

Quietly in her sleep

There was no recovery. Mother was moved to a nursing home this past week where she apparently gained some sense of awareness and was even fed some applesauce.

Last night her breathing became slowly quieter till it was no more.

I'm writing her obituary today. Maybe I'll post it.

Now What?

I've been home a couple of days now. Getting back into work is helpful, though my efficiency isn't very great. I'll be working this weeekend to get caught up. There was no way I could work while in Atlanta. It was certainly physically/structurally possible, but emotionally impossible. The distance makes it harder and easier. The latest report from my brother is that there's been no change beyond the same roller-coaster we've been on for over three weeks now. It's just wait.

Going home

5 March 2008

In the Atlanta airport waiting for the flight home, I’m reflecting on the time here. Mother had quite shallow breathing when I said goodbye last night. The roller coaster continues. I’ve done all I can. With my brother looking after the house, I’m looking after the finances – long distance. Together we will see that the bills are paid, at least in the short term. We’ve decided to leave her house just as it is for now. There’s still a chance she will move back there, even for a brief transitional stay.

It’s challenging time. There is confusion, with the uncertainty and potential changes. There is the inevitable reminder of our immortality. As I went through Mother’s files, looking for how to keep things going, get things changed, I had to reflect on the challenge my files would present my kids if they had to figure things out. Wow! It would be challenging. I’ll have to clean up with that in mind – someday.

Continuing the vigil

Visiting rehab facilities. Trying to figure out what next. Mother still only wakes up occasionally, and doesn’t recognize anyone. Yesterday she was very clear in repeatedly pointing to her mouth that she wanted something. Probably hungry maybe dry mouth. The feeding through the PEG port was just getting going. She hadn’t had anything in her stomach for 24 hours, so that’s a likely response. It took quite some time to get the mouth cleansing and moisturizing to happen. That seemed to satisfy her.

The most challenging thing is not knowing how the recovery will go. At what point do we need to see progress to know the brain is re-connecting itself? Yesterday it was as though she woke up for a few minutes, looked at me with uncertainty for awhile, then went back to sleep to work on assembling the puzzle in private. She always liked puzzles.

There’s the quality of life issue that my brother and I are struggling with. We just talked with the weekend neurologist. It’s just wait. Another EEG tomorrow to see if there is any sign of seizure, which would be treated. So far, no such indication.

It’s time to do my laundry.

Sitting in hospital rooms

Mother is about to move to her third room since I got here two days ago. She is mostly sleeping, and has been since a significant stroke two weeks ago. One minute she was going about her business, still re-organizing the house after losing her husband a few months ago. Two days later she was not responding to anyone. I was getting reports from my brother, who was spending virtually every waking moment in her hospital room, occasionally switching off with his wife, while the two of them talked to the parade of doctors, who each had a different story to tell. I couldn’t tell if she was recovering or dying. I made the trip across the country, and I still can’t tell.

The large cast of specialists can’t really say what is going on, or what the prognosis is. One has a very strong view that she has encephalitis, another says a stroke. One tells us she is dying and to engage hospice. Another gives her a 37% chance of a full, or nearly full recovery. Meanwhile, we signed the order to avoid extreme measures to keep her alive. This means, in this Georgia hospital, that they won’t insert a breathing tube into her lungs, and they won’t use shock or beat on her if her heart stops.

Along with all the specialists who rotate through her room, I’ve gotten to know her physician and her heart specialist, who have a longer relationship with her. Her physician actually made house calls when her husband was sick. This is The South. It has a history of graciousness and a strong set of rules about behavior. This overlay of social rules, despite its class-associated roots, does provide significant comfort through its structure. The South is friendly on the surface. And as my favorite Tanguera says, how you talk about it matters. I’m still glad I didn’t grow up here.

The situation seems more stable today. After two weeks of doctors not knowing what was going on with her, there is a bit more clarity to the course of treatment. In fact, it’s still pretty much the same as it has been: whether or not the cause of the fever is known, the treatment is antibiotics – two varieties now. She had a port into her stomach installed today (a PEG). So she will no longer suffer the tube into her stomach through her nose for nutrients. She will be back on her familiar dose of cumidin blood thinner, and off the heparin, which has been questioned by FDA for its uncertain raw materials sourcing. Her heart specialist says that area is working as it has been since the pacemaker was installed several years ago. The lung guys (a different one every day) say there’s nothing to worry about there.

So it seems to be just this brain thing. And nobody knows. While I’ve seen her awake for brief periods, and the neurologist always gets her to wake up by pinching her, she can’t communicate much. She can nod and shake her head appropriately to questions, though she hasn’t done so for me. I did have a brief time alone with her yesterday when she squeezed my hand and looked at me as though she knew who I was. She’s still sedated from the PEG procedure this morning, which happened before I got here. So I’m still looking forward to the next opportunity to communicate.

The neurologist presents the most optimistic scenario. Brain injuries can go like this: nothing for some time, then slow recovery. The statistics for recovery offer reasonable hope. I’m going with that for now.

More Random

As usual, I have too many projects going. Let's see, there's the day job, which is picking up a bit after a lull -- and needs my attention before a deadline tomorrow. There's the Greenwood Townhouse project, which could be our home someday, and is moving along slowly in the design phase. I've migrated the design tools (mostly AutoCad) to an instance of XP in a virtual PC on my main Vista machine. I'm continuing to maintain the 4 or 5 PCs in the house, with the laptop at the "stereo" cabinet in the family room, where we dance, and the PC that quit behaving after last month's Microsoft Tuesday Patch Day. There's the 1459 pieces of Tango music that is continually updated and the occasional tanda playlist to build. There's the Circe Snow clothing line to get moving. There's the support for blog entries for family (how do I scan this? Where that photo). There's taxes and business records to attend to. Oh, yes, 1099s to file. I think those were supposed to be in by Jan 30. oops. There's a financial management job I took on without realizing where the balance between research and family politics really lies. There's the really major project of selecting the right wines for the wedding in June. The hot tub has been sitting unused for nearly a year now, with us in desperate need of a soak, and my repair still pending. The access to the loft in the studio is still non-existant, waiting for me to replace the dangerous stepladder. I really want to finish the controls on the hydronic heating system in the studio. It's still being controlled based on only room temp. This causes significant swings in temperature of the wood floor. I have most of the pieces in place to control room temp with more constant floor temp, using a predictive algorithm, recognizing the time constant of the building, using outdoor temp and solar gain as influences. I just need to implement. My "life style changes" include running every day. More time away from projects, but better focus when working. And then there's Tango. It's hard to call Tango a project. But it is a major focus of my energy. It's not just the dancing. It's . . . I don't know what to call it. Anyway, did I say too many projects? I wouldn't have it any other way.

The purpose of this post is mostly to work out how to embed video. This only uses Windows Media Player. It seemed the easy place to start. It seems to use way too much bandwidth for the quality that results. I'll work on a more general solution that is more efficient some other time.

This is from Yira Yira on 14 November, 2007




Ah, the culture of music and dance. Today it seems so remote from my daily routine. I don't know why. It doesn't have to be.