Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
This was hard:
- I was scared and emotional
- I had no idea what clothes actually still fit me in my closet and now was not the time to start trying crap on
- I needed comfortable, but presentable, you know all the old biddies will show up at the hospital and you have to at least have clean hair and NOT be in sweat pants
- I wasn't sure what the weather was like in Guatemala and was too frazzled to check weather.com
- I wasn't sure how long I would be there
- I had to pack some black clothing, a dress, a skirt, a top, panty hose and shoes.
I shoved the black items in my suitcase, thinking how unreal the whole situation was. My Mom was the healthiest person I know, works out EVERYDAY, does yoga, stands on her head for 30 minutes, doesn't smoke or drink and eats super healthy....STANDS ON HER HEAD!
As soon as my mother was able to open her eyes and mouth words, she wanted to shower and shave. Now this shows you the what is truly important to ALL women. We knew this before hand and had her make up bag, her favorite scent and a tweezers at hand. I had been carrying the tweezers in my purse since day one. You see women (all women, don't you lie) get strange hairs that appear overnight. Sometimes it's just one on your chin or your neck, but that one hair will drive you BATTY.
I did not want to simply go in there and start plucking away at my mothers face when she was unconscious, but lo and behold it was her first request oce she could formulate words.
We knew she was paralyzed on her left side (her leg and arm) but we were not sure about her face, so as I am plucking the few stay hairs from the left side of her face I ask "Mommy, does that hurt?"
Her answer: OBVIOUSLY
We all bust out laughing, my middle sister comments "yeah Mom, all this waxing and shaving and plucking is a big pain!"
Mom states: but necessary!
We all laugh again, that night as we ride the elevator down to to parking garage the 3 of us make a pact: This is the 3 sisters pact
No permission is needed, I don't care what sate I am in, one of you 2 will pluck my hairs, comb my hair, slap some make up on me and make sure I am damn presentable, if only for the nurses and doctors.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I will let you get a visual of how bad is has gotten. The other night I pulled out a pair of jammies and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth and get in to my jammies. I went to pull up the silk pajama shorts and UGH!!! they would not go over my big ass THIGHS. That's right ladies and gentleman I am TOO Fat to fit into my pajamas! Seriously, not my skinny jeans, not some tight hot pants, my DAMN pajamas, now if that is not a SLAP in the face I don't even know what is.
I am calling it the FAT TRIFECTA- (otherwise know as my excuse as to why my ass is the size of a Clydesdale horse)
- The damn lap band which had been my best friend and savior deiced to try and kill me (that bitch) by eating it's way in to my stomach, resulting in major surgery and 3 weeks in bed.
- Simultaneously my thyroid decides to REVOLT (probably for all the times I lied and said I was fat because I had thyroid problems) well that bitch decided to sprout some nodules and stop working (16 weeks on medication and that there is NO controlling that one.)
- Let's add to this my mother's illness. I am a eater on any given day, but if you add stress, fear, anxiety, depression and lots of crying, well, we all know those things can only be cured by the following: cake, cookies, ice cream and BOOZE, lots of booze.
The day my mother had her surgery I sat in the Hospital form 7am until midnight, and think the only reason I did not EAT myself to death was:
- there was no all you can eat buffet (thanks goodness or I would have been hospitalized for a ruptured stomach)
- I had no local currency, so I had to make friends and family buy food for me all day
I am back home now, my Mom is doing better and we are bringing her to Orlando for in-patient rehab.
I wouldn't say I am on a diet, but I am back to eating like a normal person (OK, maybe a normal sweet tooth), I have decided to cut back on the alcohol (except Saturday night I had 3 mojitos, but I danced, ALOT!) and I am going back to those PAIN in MY ASS Pilate's classes starting this week....
Stay updates to find out if my damn pajamas ever fit over my giant ass again....
Monday, September 7, 2009
My parents have been married over 50 years, my father no longer knows how to exist without my mother, how to breath, how to eat, how to wake up and get out of bed in the morning if she is not by his side. His thoughts are not so much incoherent, as they are irrelevant if she is not there to hear them and share them. Nothing makes sense to him if she is not here. This is painfully clear to me and to him, and he has told me more than once in these last few days. This is a fact that truly freaks out my poor sister, since she was alone with the first 24 hours that it took me and my oldest sister to make our way to Guatemala from Florida, and she alone bore the brunt of the immense anguish my Dad was in.
My mother had a brain aneurysm Friday night just after midnight, I was not able to get here (Guatemala) until Sunday at about 9pm. She had a stroke sometime Sunday night and was put in a medically induced coma on Monday morning. Before she was put under she would grab my father’s hand and say “Thank you, thank you for staying with me” The old man’s response was, where else would I be? I have always been here and will always be here. My Mom is 70 (Mom, if you are reading this, I’m sorry for revealing your age, I’m sure you’re not thrilled about it, but if you are able to read this then I couldn’t ask for anything more) my Dad is 75, he is a man and doesn’t mind revealing his age. He and I are big cry babies, so it is not as shocking to see his eyes tear up, as let’s say as some other men who never cry. What is shocking is the fear that was there the first few days where as he repeats to me frequently was touch and go, he shakes his head and says I almost lost her, I almost lost her.
We go back and forth from the Hospital to the house all day, and we gather little bits of good news, she opened her eyes, she moved her right hand, she wiggled her left foot, she responds to verbal commands, she squeezed my fingers, we removed the ventilator, she breaths on her own, she said Mama and she said Papa! This is not how I think of my Mother on a regular basis; she is as strong, willful woman. Smart, disciplined and daring. Now we are brought to tears of joy and relief because she said mama, our lives changed forever, none more so than her's and my father’s.