Sunday, October 14, 2012

October Blues

I can't stand the month of October.

Not in that "Oh my god, I hate this effing month so much I just want to rip it off of the calendar and be done with it" sort of way, but in the dreary feeling I get when I look at my phone, day planner or calendar and see that it's a day in October.

Why should I feel this way? There are lots of great things to look forward to in October for me: 4 of my nieces, one of my nephews and one of my best friends have birthdays this month, my best friend's wedding anniversary is coming up soon, and next weekend my other best friend is getting married. That enough should make me really happy and excited about October.

Unfortunately, there is sadness tied to this month that for me, will never go away.

Two years ago, on October 28, my mom passed away from a long battle with kidney disease.

It was inevitable, but still hard to see coming. We started the month throwing a surprise celebration for her and my dad's 30th wedding anniversary, and then the next thing we know, we're sliding downhill. All it took was 26 days.

Now, my mom's health hadn't been the best for awhile. She had been diagnosed with Renal Tubular Acidosis in 1995, which is the calcification of the kidneys. She was very lucky and did very well for a long time, keeping everything at bay and living her normal, active lifestyle. Unfortunately, it did get worse over the course of those years, and in 2007, she had to quit her job to go on kidney dialysis, due to the function being low. She was also given an official diagnosis of end stage renal failure. She fought it the whole way, though. She also never let it get her down: if she wanted to see any of the grandkids, or go somewhere (like our mother-daughter girls night to go see "Twilight" when it came out in theaters) she would find some way to do it. Come 2010, though, we started noticing things. She would see things no one else would, like people. She had a list of things she wanted to do "one last time," such as visiting her brother in Texas, going to a Three Dog Night concert at Downstream Casino (she didn't get to, and let's just say my dad heard about it right up to the day she died.... She even put him on blast on Facebook the day after the concert!!!) and learning to text, among other things. Either way, things were starting to look pretty sketchy. One day I was kicking around ideas, with my parents' anniversary right around the corner (October 3). I decided that it would be fun to throw a little party to celebrate my parents' 30th wedding anniversary since we weren't too sure how much longer we were going to have Mom around and not only that, but my parents basically eloped, for want of a better term. No big wedding, no reception, and a little bit of celebration, but not a whole lot. So I got two of my sisters in on it, we put our heads together, and threw the wedding reception that was 30 years in the making. It was a wonderful day, and I am really glad my sisters and I were able to make their anniversary extra special.

A week later, I had a strange dream. In this dream, I was at my parents' house, and my sisters were there too. I was looking out the screen door, and there was a lighthouse in the across the street neighbor's backyard. A lighthouse. In Kansas. Strange, yes, but keep reading!!! I said, "Oh, look at the lighthouse!" and my sister Misty comes up next to me and says "And there's the tornado that's going to take it down!" About that time I see a funnel cloud coming up, and our family takes shelter in the kitchen, of all places. When everything was over, we walked out. Mom was gone. Misty left. Tina went into another room. Josh walked in. My house was the only house standing. The lighthouse was gone. It wound up being me, Josh, and my dad standing in the middle of the living room. I was a little confused as to what this dream meant until a few days later.

My mom had been in and out of the emergency room for various complications quite a bit for awhile, and 4 days after I had had the dream, my dad called to tell me he was taking her in again. I followed him out and came in just in time to hear the doctor discussing the prospect of going on hospice care with my mom. I knew that that was for terminally ill, but didn't realize that it was basically care to keep them comfortable until the end of life. Believe me when I say I learned that one REAL fast.... however I was feeling rather okay with it when the hospice nurse came in and explained that people who generally have a few months to live are put under hospice care. Mom was all for the idea, and got things started right then and there.

The following week went it's normal route. I went to classes, taught a few piano lessons, kept my house in order, and just lived my normal life... until October 19. It was a Tuesday night, and I had just finished up teaching a couple of piano lessons. Josh was working, and I decided to settle in in my pajamas with a snack and a movie. It'd been kind of a busy day. I had just kicked back on my couch when my phone went off, and it was my dad. "Meg, you need to get over here. Your mom's confused and not responding well, the hospice nurses are here trying to help, Misty's already over here and Tina's on her way. Get over here as quick as you can." Lucky for me, I lived right around the corner from my parents, so I was over there in virtually no time at all. And what I walked into was sheer insanity... fighting, my mom trying to be corralled by 2 hospice nurses, and an all around stressful atmosphere that made me want to just break down right then and there. I got a hold of Josh and had him come home early on account of a family emergency, and we decided that our best option at that point in time was to have Mom admitted into the hospital for 5 day respite care so that we could get things situated and taken care of. It was during this time that we were told that she would be lucky if she made it a couple more weeks. While dealing with the emotional turmoil of knowing we were on the very brink of losing Mom, we managed to get some quick remodeling done on a couple of rooms of the house and some important legal matters surrounding the whole situation settled. On October 24, Mom was able to come home. Now keep in mind-- I had just returned to school that semester after 4 years of working full time. I was in the middle of midterms and the day Mom came home, I happened to have a choir concert, and I had Josh record it so that she and my dad could see it, since she wasn't in any condition to attend, and Dad was staying at home with Mom. I didn't go home that night. Instead, I went to my parents' house, and showed the video, even though Mom was barely conscious. I knew she could still hear it though, even if she wouldn't remember it later. It also gave me a sort of peace of mind. I spent the evening hanging out in the bedroom with her, holding her hand, and singing to her. When I stopped singing for a minute and left my hand draped over the rail of the hospital bed she was in, she grabbed my hand and hollered, "Sing!!!" It was hard, but I managed to pull through it. I don't know how, but I did. I ran to my house later to grab a change of clothes and my stuff for school the next day, and spent that night in a recliner in my parents' living room.

When I woke up the next morning to get ready for class, I heard some cheerful conversation coming from the bedroom. Mom was awake, and she was okay! Dad and Tina were in there, helping her eat scrambled eggs (that was what she'd asked for) and I walked in and told her about my concert from the night before, and some other things while I got ready for class. It was a nice little chat with her in the midst of everything that was going on. Then, as I got ready to leave, I kissed her on the cheek and said, "I'll see you at 1. Love you!" That was that. When I came back, though, it was hell all over again. She had spiked a fever, and things just started to worsen as they progressed. I was a little confused, and upset, and couldn't figure things out. So to pass some time and help myself deal, I decided to break down and read the hospice pamphlet on coping with a family member's end of life process. It was there that I read about how when a person is dying, they will rally, or show signs that they might pull through and act normally for a very brief period of time. It hit me HARD. My sisters and I agree that when Mom rallied that morning, she had come back to say goodbye. So we contacted as many friends and family as we could, spent as much time with her as we could, and prepared ourselves for the worst.

October 27, 2010. I woke up on that Wednesday morning with a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I managed to get myself around and into class on time that morning, but something didn't feel right at all. English Comp II came and went. So did Psychology class. And Music Appreciation. At the end of Music Appreciation, I grabbed my backpack, and started rummaging through my purse for my keys so that I could put my backpack in my car and switch it out with my music for Choir, but as I started to dig for my car keys, I noticed my phone going off. It was Tina. I grabbed my phone and walked out of the music room. "It's time. You need to come home now. She's not gone yet, but it won't be too much longer. You need to come home." "Okay." I poked my head in the door and simply told my teacher, "It's time." He knew immediately what I meant, and said "Go be with your family." That whole day I was a complete and total train wreck. I snapped and fought with everyone, I cried, I'd get myself calmed down for a minute, and then burst into tears again, I called my friends in hysterics. It was just... rough. By the time the night came, I was exhausted, but didn't want to sleep. I wound up catnapping on the couch for a brief period of time, and woke up instantaneously at 5:20 on the morning of October 28. A friend of Tina's was in the living room talking to my brother in law on the phone and I heard him say "She's gone. She just passed away." I shot up and into the bedroom. It felt too surreal to accept at that very moment. I woke Josh up. I woke Dad up. I called my best friend. We contacted hospice. The funeral home. It happened too fast to take in. The dust finally semi-settled around 8am, and my dad was insistent that I go home and get some sleep. So I made plans to meet Misty at the flower shop that afternoon before we had to all meet up at the funeral home, and I went straight home to bed. It was hard to sleep, but I got there. With all the stress and everything, and the fact that Josh came home and was rummaging through our garage and Prudence heard him and started growling (I've never seen a cat be protective of his owner like that...), I just wasn't sure it was possible. I made it through the rest of the day, though. And through the visitation, funeral, the emotional breakdowns and the following 2 years up to this point...

I'm still surviving everyday, but everyday gets just a little bit easier to deal. Sure, some days are better than others, I still have trouble with certain songs or stories or things that trigger memories, but for the most part, I'm doing better now than I was 2 years ago. I'll never stop missing my mom, of course.

In case any of you haven't noticed, my mom and I were pretty close. We worked together, hung out together, I could tell her just about anything, and we had an overall good relationship. She was super friendly and personable, and everyone that knew her loved her. I pride myself in thinking that some of my best traits were inherited from her. I'm also not really sure what else there is to say... except that I know that she's always with me, and that I miss her terribly. I could go on and on about silly little stories... but with as heavy a post as this is, those may come around in time as little anecdotes for future posts. I only have a million of them, like when I got my first tattoo done, and didn't tell her for a month, until she noticed and freaked out on me. "What the hell is that on your leg?" "Oh, it's my tattoo!" "When did you get it...?" "A month ago!" "That's just TACKY!!!" Or when I was in 8th grade, she was taking my dad to work at 5am. She always poked her head in my room to let me know she was heading out, and on one particular morning, she poked her head in and said, "Meg, I'm taking Dada to work." "Oka-- WHAA?!?!?!" "Oh! Sorry, I'm going to be 2 years old again!" She wasted no time leaving that morning, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Or I could mention that I broke a stapler at work one night, working with mom. It had seized up, and Mom was trying to fix it. "Here Mom! I'll do it!" The stapler broke apart into two pieces in my hand. The note left for my boss? "Frieda- Mom broke this. -Megan"

-Because of my mom, I am a musician.
-Because of my mom, I have a love for the people in my life that will never waver, and I'm not afraid to let any of them know this. I will also put them all before myself in any given situation.
-Most importantly, because of my mom, I have high standards for my life, goals that I can attain, the drive to go down swinging when life decides to throw me into battle, and the tenacity to get where I want to be and have everything I will ever need or want.
Patricia Kay Myers
January 25, 1951- October 28, 2010
Gone but never forgotten!

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