Thursday, December 29, 2011

I Am A Student of Life - Awaiting an Oasis

I am a problem solver.  When faced with a sticky situation, I grab paper and pencil and begin my lists. What are my options?  What are the pros and cons of the various choices?  What are the steps needed to reach a desire outcome?  I fool myself into thinking that I actually have some control over the situation...because I have my lists and... I have a plan.  I also will spout, at the drop of a hat, various adages that guide my life:  "You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude about what happens to you."  "Just take the next directed step."  "How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time."  

So I have to say that I am currently in uncharted territory.  I am realizing that there are somethings we do not have control over...and sometimes there is just not the strength to change your attitude.  Sometimes, things can feel so overwhelming that you just want to sit there.

My mother continues to work at her rehabilitation at the skilled nursing center.  She has surprised me with her attitude of acceptance.  She is not a problem patient.  She is not ranting.  She says, "What good would it do, it doesn't change anything." So, she accepts and waits for her Care Attendant to answer her bell.  She waits for me to come to visit her each day.  She waits to be helped into bed.  And each day she wills her muscles to try just a little harder.

December 24, 2011
The future is very murky.  We don't know how my mother will progress.  We do not know what her future needs might be.  We do not know what resources we will need or have available to us.  I am reminded of my youngest son, Marc.  As a child, he had a "blankie" that he loved. If things got too uncomfortable for him, if he was in trouble or upset...he would come into the room where the rest of the family was sitting, so he could be close to his support group...and he would pull his "blankie" over his head and sit there...not having to respond to anyone, not having to say or do anything.  How I wish, at times, that I had a blankie.

I have not been posting because at the moment it feels like the well is dry.  When I am my usual self, I feel fully alive and my juices are flowing.  Right now I feel arid.  But I am not anxious about it.  I am just quiet inside and doing what is necessary to get through each day.  I have a greater appreciation of the energy it takes to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I have a greater empathy for those who feel vulnerable when they find themselves in unfamiliar territory.  Life continues to present lessons.  My mother continues to teach me.  Through her example she shows me what it is like to be at the mercy of life's events and how to retain your dignity through it.  The one adage I can count on is that "Tomorrow is another day and...this too shall pass."  I am waiting for the oasis.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

I Am A Knitter - "When the going gets tough..."

"When the going gets tough, the tough get knitting!"  A short perusal of my recent posts shows that life has been challenging for me during the past month.  With my mother's emergency surgery and difficult recovery and my sister-in-law's recent death, at times I have felt like I am just methodically putting one foot in front of the other.  How does a person cope in the midst of stress?  One thing I do is grab my knitting bag.

Knitting is a therapeutic outlet for me.
  • It allows me to keep my mind occupied in a way that prevents me from sliding down the slippery slope of "what if's" that take me into the fantasy land of unreal terrors.  
  • It allows me to feel a sense of control during times when I feel so helpless...as I navigate a simple pattern and see my piece of yarn turn into a fabric and a specific item.  
  • It helps fill the time as I sit next to my mother's bedside or in a car seat driving the long road to Macomb, IL from St. Louis, MO.  
  • It gives me something to talk about with the nurses and care partners who enter the hospital rooms.  
  • It permits me to feel connected to the intended recipient at a time when I could feel very alone in my situation.  
  • It fills me with pleasure, a sense of accomplishment and an appreciation of beauty in the midst of heavy, sad feelings.
So what have I been knitting?
I have a number of works in progress and a few completed items that will be gifts.  Completed are the Double Diamond Hat and Scarf set that I gave to my son, Michael, for his birthday at the end of November.





The Mitt Envy Fingerless Gloves I made for my nieces and nephew in Missouri:



The Regular Guy Beanie I have made for my grandson, Nik:



The Roaming Rib Cowl that I made at Milli's request for her to wear to LA King's hockey games. She is getting this on Christmas so I hope she doesn't read this post! :-)



In progress are: two men's beanies for two nephews and two Baby Surprise Jackets that I am making for one of the ICU nurses at UCLA Hospital who is expecting twin boys in February.

There is something so rewarding about creating handcrafts.  My maternal Grandmother first taught me to crochet when I was a young girl.  She lived to be 91 and many of my memories of her are crocheting beautiful lace edgings for items in my "hope chest!"  I have knit through my years of passage through good times and bad.  I remember my oldest son, Joey, saying as a young boy..."Mommy, you just take a piece of string and make something!"  It amazed him.

Last week my niece, Trista, sent me an electronic messaging saying, "Aunt Pat...I have a real desire to learn how to knit or crochet....any tips?"  Trista lives in Missouri...too far for me to grab a skein of yarn and two needles and run over to her house to teach her.  But my heart quickened when I read her words and thought of the enjoyment that was in store for her.

So...when the going gets tough, the tough get knitting...but always with a little glass of wine also at hand!

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

I Am A Wife and Aunt - The Gift of Presence

Life has truly been "in session" for us this past month.  In the midst of my mother's emergency surgery, Jay's only living sibling, his older sister Miriam, became terminal ill with metastatic cancer.  We immediately made arrangements to fly to his hometown of Macomb, Illinois to spend some time with her.  However, fate intervened and Miriam passed away two days before we were scheduled to leave.  While I regret that he was unable to be with her before she died, I am glad that his last memories of her are of our visit with her in Chicago in May where we talked, laughed, visited museums and swapped stories. 

Jay and Miriam at the Horse Exhibit at the Natural History Museum
Miriam was a woman "fully alive" and one of the most authentic, genuine women I have ever known.

Miriam has one daughter, Jayne...and it was to Jayne that we went.  Jayne is "her mother's daughter!"  Very competent, intelligent, focused, she was doing all she could to cope with the details that accompany the death of a loved one.  But she was alone.  It was clear when we arrived that she could handle things, but what Jay had to offer her was the gift of our presence. And we gave that freely. 

Lunch at the local Pub
We spent hours talking, remembering, looking at pictures. 


We were a sounding board as she composed letters, made lists of things to do and people to see.  We were with her as she made difficult decisions and reassured her when needed.  We stood beside her.  We cried with her and we laughed with her. We even went on a "Pirate Booty" run to Walmart so she could stock up on low calorie junk food!


With her we remembered her mother and we laid her to rest.


I was reminded of a truth I really learned long ago, when my father died.  No one can take away the reality of that loss and no one can take away the pain, but sometimes all you really need is to have someone be with you as you walk this piece of life's journey.  Jay was that presence for Jayne and I was that presence for Jay and Jayne.

Miriam, you will be missed!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

I Am a Philosopher - Changing My Perspective

Jay and often walk in our neighborhood and we can become creatures of habit, following our usual path. But sometimes we decide to go a different route.  We pass the same places but maybe from a different direction and invariably we see things we never noticed before or see familiar things in a new way.  I have read that even though we cannot change what happens in life, we can change the way we look at it...change our perspective. When I was working and helping to conduct workshops we called this reframing.  Looking at something in a different way.

I had a real life lesson of this recently and my "teacher" was my oldest son, Joe "Primo"!

"Primo"
Joe called me from San Diego to see how my mother, his grandmother, was doing while she was hospitalized for her recent surgery.  I was anxious and concerned because my mother was having hallucinations.  Doctors reassured me this was not unusual for elderly patients in the hospital on a barrage of medications...but it was disconcerting for me to visit her and have her recount to me things that she insisted had happened to her but that I knew were figments of her mind.  I told Joe my concerns and gave him an example:

"Today she asked me if I had seen the movie!  She said the hospital had put together a wonderful movie of her entire life.  It included pictures and clips of every one of her friends and family.  She claimed the nurse wheeled her into a special room, started the film and then left her there alone for 3 or 4 hours while she watched the entire thing.  Her eyes were alive when she told me and she said it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen and she was so disappointed that I did not get to see it.  See, Joe, what I mean?"

Joe's response to me was not what I expected!  ..."Mom, that is fantastic!  What a wonderful thing to have happened!  Imagine that Grandma got to have that great experience and she thought she had it for 3 - 4 hours while she was there.  What a gift!  And Mom .... you didn't have to do a thing to make it happen.  Imagine how much time and effort it would have taken you to pull something like that together for her!"  I was taken aback by his perspective and we both started to laugh.  Well, that was one way to look at it!

I am seeker of truth...I study, I research, I read, I think and when I come to a conclusion, it is my reality and I think it is correct.  And maybe it is...but...there may also be another way of viewing the information or situation that is also "correct."  Postive reframing is not about being right or wrong but it is about looking for a more positive way to view something, looking for the good that is embedded in the whole, and maybe even, like Joe, finding the humor in the situation.  It doesn't change things but we might be better able to deal with the things that happen.  Thanks Primo for bringing me this lesson!

Patricia with Joe in August 2011
So tell me...what do you see in this picture?  Is it an old crone or a lovely young woman?

Saturday, December 3, 2011

I Am A Student - Life's Teachable Moments

When my sons were little, I was always looking for "teachable moments."  Life would present a circumstance and I could springboard from that happening to explain a larger truth or appropriate action.  Well, I think that in the past two weeks I have experienced many teachable moments.

On November 14, I returned from my short vacation to Mexico to find my mother quite unwell.  Being a stubborn, independent woman, she refused to allow my brother to take her a doctor or the ER.  One look at her and we bundled her into the car and headed for UCLA Santa Monica ER...no discussion!  She was admitted and had emergency surgery for a perforated bowel.  One week was spent in CCU where she was intubated and things were precarious.  Then one week was spent on the regular ward where she continued to heal medically until she became fully stable.  Today she was transferred to a rehabilitation center to begin the task of rebuilding her strength so she can resume her life.  For me it has been 19 days of being with her from 4 to 7 hours a day every day and I am a more knowledgeable person because of the experience.

Mom 16 days after emergency surgery working a Sudoku Jay made for her.
What have I learned???

The importance of being able to communicate your needs.  My mother had a breathing tube in her throat for three days.  She was conscious and aware but she could not speak.  She worked desperately to communicate with me while her eyes were filled with terror.  We tried to use an alphabet board where she attempted to point to letters to spell out words, but it was too hard for her eyes to focus.  What ended up working best was her lifting her index finger of her right hand and writing the words in the air using her Palmer Method Cursive Writing while I tried to say the letters I thought I was seeing.  This took TIME.  Most nursing staff do not have the time nor the patience to wait out a delayed or laborious response.


When someone is hard of hearing you need to speak slowly or else the sounds become garbled.  My mother has hearing aids in both ears.  We decided with the medical staff that we would leave them in her ears 24/7 so she could hear requests and follow commands.  I continually had to remind everyone to slow down their speech when talking to her.  Speaking loudly doesn't help especially if you are speaking rapidly and then turn away before the listener has time to process and understand what you just said.

When you are sick your most important needs are your bodily comfort and dealing with confusion.  When we managed to get a phrase we could understand from my mother it was something like, "I need to move my legs."  "My mouth is so dry!"  "How long have I been here?" This was the focus of her awareness.  Time passes differently when you are in and out of alertness.  She felt like she had been there a year when only a few days had passed.


Every patient needs an advocate.  No matter how they try, it is impossible for the constantly changing nursing staff to keep all the details straight.  I became the repository of knowledge and I was the one who worked for continuity of care.  At each change of shift or set of doctors making rounds, I was the one who had the consistent story. Details were lost, changes made and not fully communicated. Many times it was my information that made an important difference.

You need to write things down it keep it all straight.  I quickly realized that I could not rely on my memory alone. I have a small purple spiral notebook that everyone came to recognize. As a word was spoken, a question answered, a procedure implemented, I documented it.  Each day, under the date, I wrote NAMES: the RN for the shift, the Care Partner, the Charge Nurse, the Attending Doctor.  Who said what.  In fact, sometimes I was told... "Wait, let me rephrase that before you write it down." Not only did this help me keep things clear for myself, but it established my credibility with the staff and they listened when I spoke with them

Your physical strength can change very quickly. It does not take much to knock the pins out from under you. If a body lies helpless in a bed for even 3 - 4 days, you begin to lose muscle strength and something as simple as lifting a spoon to your mouth seems impossible.  My mother went from a fully ambulatory woman to someone who was totally helpless.


It is important to keep everyone aware of the reality of the patient's personhood.  People become a statistic... "She is the perforated bowel in Room 623 Bed 2...and she is 95 years old."  I continually told her story...describing who she was before her surgery. "She may have been born in 1916 but she was a fully independent woman living on her own, cooking, shopping, paying bills, caring for a disabled daughter, reading at Saturday Mass...in fact coming in for surgery caused her to miss her scheduled driver's test at the DMV. This is the life she wants to return to."  I told it so many times that it was entered into her records.

When put to the test, you will find an inner strength you did not know existed.  I grew up in an environment that respected authority and I always did what I was told. I get squeamish easily and do not like the sight of blood. Yet, when something seemed wrong or needed to be done, I was able to act.  I found myself engaging doctors in discussion until I was sure I understood, even if they were inching their way out the door.  I was assertive, yet polite, asking that people be paged if I needed a question answered. I responded to my mother's physical needs if no one seemed to be answering the call button.  I could do this. And though I went home exhausted each night, I awoke refreshed and energetic enough to do it again the next day.

Appreciation has a power and in reality most people want to do a good job.  As with any organization there are those who are shining stars and those who are willing to do the minimum.  I really tried to polish the shining stars! I was impressed overall with the level of skill and care my mother received at UCLA Santa Monica.  Very special thanks to the entire CCU staff and: Resident Surgeon, Dr. Lee Blanton; Attending Physician, Dr. Pooya Bokhoor; Charge Nurses, Bina and Alizia; RN, Hazel who all interacted with me and my mother in a most compassionate and skillful manner.  I made sure to express my appreciation to everyone and to show I understood the handicaps they may be working under.  I provided feedback instantly when possible and as written documentation after the fact, naming the individuals who helped so much.  I obtained the names of key people: the hospital administrator, the Unit Directors of Medical and Nursing so that copies were sent to them.  Within a few days people knew me by name, stopped me in the hall to talk, and seemed appreciative themselves of my efforts to help them help my mother.

It is important to have someone in your corner.  We may think we are independent, but bottom line, everyone needs "someone who has her back!"  This works both ways. I was the "someone" for my mother.  She awaited my arrival everyday, she searched for me the moment she opened her eyes, she told me ... "You have saved my life...what would I have done without you."  But also I needed someone who had my back.  My family was all very supportive, calling to check on me and see how they could help, but the one I relied on most was my wonderful husband, Jay.  And he was there for me.  He was also impacted by this...his life was turned upside down.  Yet, each night I came home to a hug, a glass of wine that was handed to me and an ear that was willing to listen to me process my day by telling every little incident no matter how long it took me.  I could not have faced each day without knowing he was there for me.

Jay with my Welcome Home Hug
I apologize for the length of this post.  As was my original intention, the main purpose of my blog is to capture those events that add meaning to my life.  This has been a most significant event and I am a better person for it.