Down, and Up, Hoping For a Steady Rise

Saturday, Jan was back on a ventilator in ICU.

Her blood-oxygen levels weren't doing well. She was uninterested in my reading, her eyelids only flickering when I told her I was there. Most of the time I sat with her, I was wiping away tears with one hand while I held her hand with the other. She didn't "fire" me, she didn't snatch her head away in anger. She seemed not to care.

She went to sleep soundly at about 5 pm, so I left, and went to sit and chat with my sister-in-law and sip wine for a while, then returned to my hotel, and after talking with Bernie, took a sleeping pill and settled in to read for a few minutes and try to rest, try not to stress out about going to visit my increasingly combative mother and take her to church.

At 11 pm or so, the phone rang, startling me out of my doze. It was the hospital; Jan had taken a plunging turn for the worse. They were taking her for a CT-scan to see if they could figure out why she was ... dying. "It's very serious," they told me, "but we'll call you if the situation worsens."

I fell asleep and woke again at 4 am. The phone had not rung, so presumably she hadn't died. I fitfully dozed and had panic attacks until 6, then got up and paced and wanted to puke until 8 am, when I called the hospital and asked them how she was.

Better, they said, but not good. I asked if I should try to rally our Alzheimer-impaired mother to visit her, and the nurse said, "Yes." In other words, it's time to say goodbye.

Since my mother had gone on a rampage about the disappearance of her truck, and was currently in the mode of "Hate My Daughter Sand With a Passion," I called her closest neighbor and told her the news. To my surprise, she told me that Tere wasn't even remembering that Jan had been ill, she was totally obsessed with her vehicles, and for everyone's sake and sanity, would I please stay away.

I was a bit stunned, but they are actually closer to Tere than I am, so I agreed. I went to church, and then, at noon, went to see Jan. When I walked into ICU, I approached Jan's room, and saw that her bed -- was empty. My heart froze, my eyes welled up -- would she have been taken to the morgue so soon?

A few steps more, and I was stunned -- Jan was there, sitting up in a chair beside the bed. Sitting up straight, her face serene.

The nurse, who was putting a blanket on Jan's legs, turned to me with a huge grin and said, "Can you believe this????"

She rallied, she did, and she was simply, simply beautiful to me. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. After about 3 hours, she began to nod off to my reading, and they put her back into her bed.

Monday she was stronger, and wanted me to stay later than usual -- how unusual! And today, she was moved out of ICU, and she was talking -- talking! She used (with help) the potty (and she was annoyed that the nurses took so long to understand what she was wanting) and later, she was talking aloud, in her 'normal' patter, about the "Holy Land" and it having been "200 years" as well as telling the nurses who were moving her, "Wait a minute. I have something to tell you. I have my own Home Showcase."

She was congratulated on that accomplishment by all.

God grant the improvement holds through the night.