Mom became ill in May and was hospitalized shortly before I was to return to the US for a follow-up with my neurologist to confirm I did not have MS. She was released from the hospital by the time I arrived in Denver and much to my surprise was in an altered state. It was as though she had walked to the edge of a cliff and jumped into the abyss known as dementia.
A second hospitalization followed in June just before Steve was to arrive from Grenada. No one in the family wanted to keep Mom on the healthcare merry-go-round, stabilization and discharge only to be back through the revolving door within another month. Prior to her release, her physician recommended involving Hospice.
Discharged as a patient in skilled care to her retirement community, Hospice provided an additional layer of supervision, giving Mom medications to keep her comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, she almost seemed to rally, giving us a false sense of security and hope. There were times of crystal clarity, raucous humor.
Steve and I booked a flight to take a brief 2 week trip back to the boat, leaving Wednesday, July 15th, returning by August 2 for my surgery and Steve’s radiation therapy. The day before we were to leave, we had a family meeting planned with Covenant Village and Hospice to review Mom’s treatment plan and discuss medications. Shortly before we arrived for the meeting, Mom fell in her room, sustaining a 6 inch skin tear on her right arm, a bruise to her lower back, as well as a bump to the head. Needless-to-say, I did not return with Steve to the boat.
To evaluate Mom’s medications and relieve her agitation, Mom was immediately transferred to in-patient hospice care. Although I had been very lucky to spend the last two months with Mom, the last 6 days in Hospice were a real blessing. We had some extraordinary moments together. She passed peacefully on July 20 amidst a tornado warning and hailstorm. Most dramatic…most appropriate.
As for Steve – We had always thought the “scar tissue” on his left arm was the result of “healing” after cauterizing skin cancer by Dr. Radix in Grenada in 2007. Well, it turned out it was not scar tissue after all, but a tumor…SURPRISE!…an unexpected recurrence of the original skin cancer. Steve’s skin cancer was surgically removed this past June, with 15 radiation treatments, which began on August 2nd. Steve tolerated the radiation well, although now that the treatments are over he has developed blistering and skin sensitivity, which was expected.
Although my May consultation with my neurologist gave me the impression I was not a candidate for surgery…SURPRISE!… by August 5, I had a Cervical Spinal Laminoplasty to correct the Cervical Spinal Stenos, a narrowing of the spinal canal, which gave me all my "MS" symptoms. The doc opened up 4 cervical vertebrae and added bone to increase the space for my spinal canal. I am mending quickly, have some residual numbness in my left hand and pain in the left arm. But I am walking, increasing distance daily, and feeling better for it. I will be in a neck brace until mid-September. It will take about six months for the graft to heal.
All in all, in this summer of unexpected left turns, Steve and I have definitely hung in there – pleasantly surprised at our body’s healing capacity (heart’s take a bit longer…) I am sure all the prayers and support of family and friends have helped…plus Julie’s home-made chicken soup.
We will leave Colorado on September 13, our daughter’s BD, to return to the boat in Grenada. What better gift, after 4 months of drama, than giving her and her husband some peace and quiet by getting out of their hair…
BIT OF HUMOR J Our apartment was located on the 32nd floor of a 42-story apartment building in downtown Denver. Two days after my spinal surgery, Steve rushed into the bedroom awakening me with news the fire alarm had been activated. I gingerly got out of bed and, still half asleep, went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
“”What are you DOING?!?” Steve asked incredulously. DUH! I came to my senses and began to dress. However, midway through dressing, I stopped, went back to the bathroom to brush my hair. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?” Steve shouted, “The fire alarm has gone off!!”
What exactly WAS I thingking? In a neck brace, elevators no longer operational, facing 32 flights of stairs to exit the building, apparently I thought my odds of making it out of the building were close to “zero”…so why not look my best, and have fresh breath? I would hate to offend any would-be rescuer. J By the way, the fire was a false alarm…
Sailing adventures aboard a PDQ Antares 44i 