Mom Loved the Card

Monday, May 20, 2002
In the 'Burbs 

Greetings!



>> Laughing Out Loud

I don't like to use the word HATE.  I avoid its use, although it slips out every now and then.  Too strong a word. Too powerfully negative.  

So I'll say it in milquetoast fashion:  I immensely dislike the phone.

My attempts to convince my mother that going online is a great idea have been futile. She'd be a natural, I tell herm as she's a better typist than all four kids put together!  Three of us kids no longer live on the same island, and we could email her, and vice versa, instead of playing phone tag all the time.

So far, there's no convincing her.  

~~~

Today, I dialed her up, fully expecting no answer. Mom lives an exceedingly full and busy life, usually with volunteer work and golfing -- she eschews the cart and walks the municipal course --  two or three times a week. Most recently, her doctor and hospital emergency room visits have been keeping her way too busy.

Over the past month or so, since her cardiologist switched meds on her, Mom's blood pressure has been precariously high, while her pulse rate slows down to abyssmal lows. She's been a trooper and has toughed out this rough patch with admirable stoicism and grit.  But I hear the worry in her voice, and of course, that worries me.

Her four kids and our spouses have been feeling quite helpless from the sidelines, but everyone has rallied to cheer her on.  Mother's Day could not have happened at a better time and the deluge of flowers, cards and calls did her flagging spirits a world of good, according to my sister Sandy who drove over from Kona to spend the day with her and our step-dad.

~~

In the last month, I've been on the phone with Mom more than I have in the entire year, researching her medication (Tarka) online and making sure that she lets her doc know that on the long list of contraindications, seven applied to her.  Especially relevant was caffeine.  

Mom loves her morning coffee.

He never warned her about its incompatibility with caffeine, which is one of its top contraindications. And her BP skyrocked to 230/114!

Perhaps, he didn't know?  He handed her the meds to her as samples, she said.  Maybe what the last sales rep dropped them off and he hadn't had time to do his homework on it?  

Bottom line:  it's been stressful, coaching her from the sidelines via the phone. Translating the medical mumbo-jumbo and jargon into lay language is a challenge in itself, and her hearing isn't what it used to be. 

~~~

Well, today was a new day.  A good day.

Mom was at home and picked up the phone right away and shared with me the most positive news in weeks.

Her cardiologist switched her to yet another med (Norvasc) and so far, so good.  BPs are better.  She's feeling better.  

Thank goodness, things are stabilizing.  Thank God.

~~~

I knew she was feeling better because her attention went immediately to matters other than her pulse and blood pressure.

She told me that she was reading the Honolulu paper and came across an obituary that I should know about.  It was Frances'. Frances, my cousin Kenneth's wife. 

Age 57.  

Kenneth is my father's nephew.  Although my parents were divorced years ago, every year, sweet Frances continued to send Mom a Christmas card with a cheery note enclosed, updating her on their three children: Kevin, Kelly and Kyle.  Although Mom had not spoken or seen them in years, she -- as we all do -- retained a soft spot for our cousin, Kenneth, who is a dear heart, and his thoughtful wife, Frances.  

Mom had their phone number in her address book, and she gave Kenneth a call to express her condolences.  He let her know that Frances had died of a massive heart attack. There were no predisposing factors, warning signs or symptoms. He'd attempted CPR upon finding her slumped on the floor, but it was too late.  

He told Mom that Frances had expressed that when it was her time, she hoped that she would be spared a long, lingering death.  Although this was a profound loss, he was comforted that she got her wish.

We  shared our thoughts about Frances, how hard it must be for Kenneth to lose her, how difficult for their three kids to have lost their mother so soon.

We agreed that in spite of the sadness, like Kenneth, we found solace that Frances had been granted her departure wish.  

May we all be so blessed.

>> How to Survive a Heart Attack When Alone

~~~

We ended our call with Mom letting me that she was enjoying the fragrances and that she LOVED the card.  Yes, it did make her feel younger. 

And yes, she laughed aloud when she opened it up.

"You didn't have to, you know," she said. "It's just another birthday."

Mom was never big on birthdays, hers or ours, for that matter.  

"Well, it's not everyday, you make the big 7-7, Mom," I replied.  "From now on, we're celebrating every one of your birthdays."

"You know,  a week ago, I told Taro (my stepdad) that I really didn't I was going to live to see my 77th birthday," she said.

"You sure did, Mom," I said cheerily. "Happy Birthday, Mom, and I love you."

And then she said, "I love you." 

It's never too late...

 



"Life is a Gift."

Me ke Aloha, 
Author Unknown


 "The only gift is a portion of thyself..."
~
Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

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September 29, 2001
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