Monday, June 09, 2014

ON THE NERVOUS EDGE


I had gotten home and put on the TV to watch a baseball game on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Having visited Mom and then picking up my daughter Ellen from her home in Shoreham/Wading River, I sat in my chair and chatted with TLW (The Little Woman) and made my daughter laugh, while watching the game with the other eye.

Suddenly, the phone rang, and on the other end was my niece Laurie, telling me in a somber voice she was with her mom Tess my older sister (much older) visiting my Mom’s house and Tessie had told her to call me and that they were visiting Mom and Mom is coughing and can’t stop. I was told that Anna the live-in caretaker of Mom had called Hospice as I told her to do if she ever ran into a problem, and could I please come right down.

Arriving I am greeted by my sister Tessie and ask some questions, and go into Mom’s room. She is with Anna who is trying to comfort Mom, as Mom has a look of concern on her face, coughing and trying to make it productive. I take over from Anna and sit with Mom, trying to console and comfort her as best I can.

“Why won’t this stop?” she asks, as I take a tissue and wipe her mouth. She coughs some more and … “It didn’t last this long the last time.” She pleads.

Her eyes look up at me as I rub her shoulder, trying to reassure her that it will stop. She looks like she is at the final hour of her life. Her body has pretty much stopped working, with no use of her hands or movement in them, her feet and body as a whole.

“I can hear the gurgle in my chest, it feels like a weight is on me, making me very tired!” she tells me. The reality is that we are waiting for the inevitable, and think this may be the time. “I am so tired” she says between coughs. “When will that nurse get here?” she begs, and I have no answer, only to rub her shoulder.

As I wipe her mouth, I notice that she is not productive, everything is clear, and this has me wondering what is really happening. Her surface temperature of her skin is cool, she is complaining that she is hot, and I can’t figure this out. I wondered if the strokes she had played a part in the disarray of her sensors, from her brain to her body? Is everything off kilter?

The phone rings and I answer it, it is the nurse, and she is asking me questions. I tell her the cough is persistent and non-productive, she says the cough is good. After a half hour she arrives and Mom’s cough immediately stops! She looks terrific! We all look: stupid!

The nurse, a cheery sort, reassures us that she is ok, giving her a quick once over and makes her announcement.

“Pollen!” she announces. That old nemeses pollen is the culprit. Not only that the air-conditioner should be in use on a 69 degree day! Yes, the air-conditioner, and by the way, close the windows, she shouldn’t get any fresh air. Yes, Pollen.

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