A not so happy weekend.

Nov. 8th, 2009

A not so happy weekend filled with anguish.
A lot has happened to turn my world upside down since last Thursday. Just when I thought I was entering a happy phase, doing sculpture again, enjoying good health and freedom from worry, all hell broke loose.

Thursday, an email arrived to inform me that my dear friend of 55 years, Pat, has spinal cancer and we don't know the prognosis yet. Devastating news. She has always been one of life's joyful people.

Then the phone call Friday morning telling me to move out of the studio I had just moved into less than a month ago. What the?
Moving on to Friday afternoon and looking forward to a weekend of fun in Toronto with my other friend of 50 years, Julie. I arrived at Julie's house to find she had suffered a third stroke and instead of going to a music launch, I watched her being taken away to hospital.

Saturday, with a heavy heart, I went to a book launch as planned because the author, another old friend, was expecting me. There I met Maya, Glenn and Mildred who also got bad news about a friend who happened to be in the same hospital as Julie. What was meant to be a happy reunion of friends, was distinctly lacking in the happy department. We went on to the hospital to visit Julie and were appalled to see her decline. Words can't describe our feelings. After two hours we left and decided we needed to eat before hitting the road.

That was the best part of the entire weekend - delicious Vietnamese food.
Throughout this tragic weekend, Glenn was a brick for Maya and a very stable presence for me as well.
Everyone can behave well during life's bright moments, but it's the dark moments that are the test, and he certainly passed.

I decided to return to Peterborough, early on Sunday because I was serving no useful purpose in Toronto. I couldn't bear to go back to the hospital and I couldn't stay with Jerzy in the house. He would rather suffer than have me help him so I serve no useful purpose.

Our mutual antipathy had us spend most of the time in separate rooms and the conversations we did have were "correct". It is impossible to speak honestly because Jerzy only wants to hear his own words. I now really understand why his adult children are so careful with him.

When I arrived on Friday, I found Jerzy, Julie and Claudia (Julie's caregiver) at the dining room table. Julie was slumped forward in her wheelchair half asleep and Claudia was trying to keep her awake. Immediately Jerzy asked me to assess the situation because she couldn't stay awake. She smiled pleasantly and answered yes to everything. She knew me and was happy when I arrived, but didn't know my name. She said yes to all questions.
Claudia: "Do you know who's here?
Julie: "Yes"
C: What is her name?
J: (smiling) Yes"

This went on repeatedly with little progress. Jerzy asked again if I thought she had a stroke. I looked at drowsy, inability to speak, head falling forward and answered, yes it looks like a stroke to me. But, I added, although she can't speak she does understand, she nods and places more emphasis on some yeses than others. Claudia thought she could be exhausted and didn't get enough sleep. What to do? Jerzy wanted the answers a doctor can give. I'm no doctor. I suggested we weigh the pros and cons of keeping her home and observing her carefully, or sending her to hospital for the CTScan and MRI that can answer the medical questions. Julie hates hospitals. The experience will set her back, on the other hand, she could get worse at home. Both choices involve risk.

In the meantime, lets ask Julie what she wants. She can't talk says Jerzy. Yes she can says I. "Julie can you squeeze my hand, once for yes, two for no?" "Yes" says Julie and proceeds to demonstrate. Do you want to go to the hospital? "No". OK that was clear. Then Jerzy breaks down, weeps and says he can't take this any more. I don't blame him. He's the principal caregiver and the burden is growing more stressful as he ages. This adds a new level of stress to the discussion when David arrives. We go around the issues again and David favours the hospital. We ask Julie again and this time she says yes. All the while, she is sipping tea and eating bites of croissant that Claudia feeds her.

Now, what hospital? Jerzy favours Sunnybrook because she survived the first stroke there. I know she hates and fears Sunnybrook but liked the Toronto General where she went after her second stroke. So we ask her where she prefers to go. She clearly indicates the TG. Then Jerzy says we need to wait to hear from Tania, who is at a concert, before taking action. At which point I almost lost it because the point of the hospital at all is speedy intervention. David swung whichever way the argument went, but did finally make a decision to get her to hospital now and not wait for Tania. Meanwhile I had given Julie her magnifying glass to bang on the table when she needed to go to the bathroom. She banged it and was taken to the toilet.

Claudia had to go to her next patient and was running late, so I drove her. In the car she confided that on Thursday, Jerzy was verbally abusive to Julie and that Julie was very shaken by it. Julie told her that when he got angry before she could walk away, but now in the wheelchair she has to sit and take it. She added "I want to just disappear". Claudia hinted that he's much worse since he came back from his vacation in France. Julie was much happier and doing better while he was away.

Anyway, to bring this to an end, Julie was transported to hospital in the car and was rushed into the ER. She was CTed and indeed she was having a bleed in the left frontal lobe which affected the right brain speech center. Before she left she was already recovering some speech, so I believe it will come back. She was transferred the the Toronto Western Hospital stroke unit ICU and when I saw her there she was a catheterized, sedated zombie. She went into the hospital able to eat, drink, and urinate on her own. Now she's barely conscious, on tubes and completely helpless.

Today Jerzy, has adopted the position that he didn't want her to go to the hospital, but was outvoted. No wonder the kids prefer not to be asked for a decision, it can always be served up to them later, on a platter of guilt.

You can see why I had to leave. I was afraid of what I might say. I also didn't dare tell Jerzy that in the hospital, Julie said my name finally, and reacted to my saying good-bye. When a control freak can't take responsibility for his decisions get out of the way before he blames you.

Because I was not allowed to watch television when Jerzy was not home, I almost finished Joan's book.