precious memories

It's really odd when you get older and start processing all of those life lessons that have turned up along the way. Today is the day I was hyped to be traveling to Mud Island to see James Taylor. Instead, I'm sitting here looking like this and still counting pennies. I had forgotten that Gaga did on the 15th and subsequently her funeral was on my daddy's birthday. That's always a downer, ya know? As usual, there's a story to be told about that.

Gaga was 83 and living in a home when the doctors discovered that she had colon cancer. It was a simple resection performed by a friend of mine. He left for vacation the next day and his partner was on call when the shit hit the fan and she got peritonitis. Evidently that large belly of hers and all that transport post-op tore the sutures. As a COPD patient, she had a history of vents and whatnot and went right back on one following the emergency surgery to remove her entire colon. She waved at my grandpa on the way to the OR and smiled like a kid, looking forward to their reunion. Following surgery, she was put in ICU on a morphine drip for the pain of being laced up like a turkey with infection. Off the vent she enjoyed the pain relief but her breathing was suppressed to such an extent that the "on call" doc decided to give her Narcan so that she didn't die on his watch. Needless to say, I went ballistic. This little student nurse came and found me and said "Girl, if it was my granny, I'd want to know." I arrived in the ICU to find my grandmother screaming in pain and a new doctor on the case. He hooked her up with a less invasive breathing treatment and gave the morphine back. God love the anesthesiologist, he shot straight from the hip and told us what he would do if it was his mama.

On Saturday night, we all knew it was coming. My friend got back in town and showed up to watch over her during the night that she died. I don't remember the time...sometime early in the morning. The last trip I made in to visit, I sang Amazing Grace acapella into her ear and I think she heard it. The nurse came to fetch us shortly after. I saw my friend at church the next day and he said that it bothered him because he thought I saw him as killing my grandma. I was kinda strung out from the night before, but I had enough sense to convince him that it wasn't his fault. Shit happens.

So far nobody has died lately so I reckon daddy gets to celebrate being 81 without going to the funeral home. Something tells me he's getting a Dairy Queen ice cream cake because I know how my mama rolls. Her goal in life is to please him.

^j^