I fight for life
Back several years ago, my sister called to let me know she brought my Grandmother to the hospital. My Grandmother was in her 70’s and she had smoked from 19 or so. She had very cold feet and could not feel her toes. The next day she had a bypass of the main artery in her left leg in order for the blood to get to her lower extremities.
She came out of the hospital after having the bypass and her left and right carotid artery roto rooted out also. She moved back home where she lived alone her whole life. She was so independent that she would not move in with any of our family. One day she tripped on the oxygen hose while walking down the hallway and broke her hip.
She had to go back to the hospital that day to get a screw placed in her hip. Did I mention that my Grandmother was very independent? Well she made it through the surgery ok and had to move into a nursing home to have therapy and prescribed exercise.
After about three weeks of living in the smelly, sterile, inhospitable, nasty place she was doing OK but not very happy, and she could walk slowly with a walker. Not enough to be alone but a great start none the less. One day I was called by my sister that She fell and broke her hip again and was in route to the ER for another hip surgery. After the last one this was not good.
This time she had a plate put in to secure the hip. It was very painful and she was in pain for weeks. With my mother, sisters and me, we had someone with my Grandma every day and all day. We left only when she was sleeping and were there when she woke. After not responding well to the pain and problems the doctors started to tell us that she was dieing and that we need to prepare for it. They said that she was not trying and she was giving up on life.
Now, my grandmother has no blood relationship to us, she adopted my mother when my older sister was born in 1964. She has always been there for us, her family lives in the same city as us but she chose us. She never married and had no kids. She retired as a executive secretary back in the 90’s. Her real family never liked any of us, and thought that we were after something. My Grandmother never talked with love of her “real” family. She grew up the daughter of a Lutheran Minister and lived the proper life. But she had love, passion, and forgiveness of a saint when it came to my sisters and me.
We called her family to talk about what the doctors said and get there input and guidance. It was not good because they were not willing to do much for her but they really tried to stop us from doing anything, right or wrong they we not connected to her. One (who calls himself a Christian) it was really making him go out of his way. He was the most superficial jerk out of her “real” family (also on the City counsel where the hospital is). Well because the doctors were pushy and my grandmother was not recovering we moved he into the hospice.
During this time we had someone in the room with my grandmother 24 hours a day, the hospice nurses we great and moved her into a private room because we were there so much. My grandmother was removed from all medications other than pain pills. (what ever they were). As she was dieing we were feeding her as much as we could make her eat each day. She didn’t want to eat and we talked about how that was impacting her recovery all the time.
Finally after three weeks she started to eat again and started to gain some strength. The hospice was telling us that if she gets better she will have to move to a nursing home because she was not dieing! She was graduating from the hospice. We found her a very nice (but old) nursing home that was connected to the hospital (Lutheran of course). She liked it better than the other nursing home but hated being around others that were having major problems (dementia, kidney failure,…).
While there I would push her in her wheelchair up to the assisted living apartments as motivation. She had to be able to do most things by herself to be able to move into an apartment. She worked hard and after two months she was signed off to move to an apartment and have some semblance of life. That was almost three years ago. She is still very vibrant with a sharp mind. I still love to debate her on politics and faith.
She is one of the women in my life that made me who I am. She taught me the meaning of integrity and ethics.
I am Pro Life which means I am anti-abortion (all kinds), and anti-death penalty. (not what you would expect from a right wing Marine). Man makes mistakes so we should not take death easily. Hard labor with no rights makes more sense to me.
I chose Life. Always life! I have taken life and I would again take life to save a life with integrity and ethics.
Yes, Life is worth fighting for. All life.
What is this about? It is about life and why we should fight for it even if the doctors give up!
