The Slap Heard Around the World
It's been an interesting summer. Sometimes life just reaches up and slaps you upside the head, causing you to wake up out of a zombie-like state and look around saying, "Whaaaaat???" Some of those jaw rocking times force one to look around and re-evaluate life.
I remember when my kids started coming into the picture. The moment you see that wet, red, shriveled up mass of flesh (why some call that cute, I'll never know), the reality that your life is going to change drastically hits you. You've dreamed and fantasized about what it's going to be like. You've prepared the little one's room, bought a truckload of diapers, baby wipes, baby powder, baby shampoo, baby lotion, diaper rash stuff (whatever), baby onesies (yes I know what that is), and a plethora of other babyish items to stuff a room in your house with. Then when you hear that thump on the floor and your baby's first cries (yes, Kyle, your head is that way for a reason), you realize it's very real.
This little bundle of organs and flesh will require LOTS of your time and attention. Some of the things you used to enjoy, you know, like not getting interrupted when you're engrossed in that movie you've been waiting to see on TV, pre-DVR recorder/pause button days. And getting to eat a complete meal. Or when you get that diaper load at the most inopportune time. My oldest, had it running out of the leg and waist bands of his diaper in the middle of a very nice gift shop at a hospital once. My ninja skills were honed that day as I had to figure out how to get him out to the car, get the keys out of my pocket, find somewhere to put him while I dug through the diaper bag to find a changing pad and all the rest of the necessary equipment to change that mess (and his clothes) while both hands were covered with a Grey Poupon (ironic, huh?) colored mess all over both of my hands...oh, and down the front of my slacks.
It happened again when Dad was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). That 'life smack' actually smarted a bit. Life was rocking along just fine. Another kid had been added to the tribe (Trevorino) and there was a new job and new house. The docs couldn't figure out exactly what was going on to cause his limbs to weaken one by one. Then the diagnosis came. It took my breath away. I knew what it meant, I just didn't know it would move so fast. I understood that sometime in the not too distant future, my Dad would be gone. Who would I call when I had good news? Who would I call when I needed advice? Who would I talk to when I needed help fixing something, and no one but the master of all things repaired would be able to help?? Who would tell those amazing Grandpa stories to the now third addition (Yoseph Miguel, AKA Joey) Everything would change dramatically in two short years as we buried his remains in the National Cemetery.
It's happened several times with both additions and subtractions as the years have worn on. Business ventures gone awry...relationships jacked up, friends both made and lost, job transitions, relocations, daughters in law added, the first lil man added to the family... all bring about the need to adjust and move forward the best you can, realizing some things will be different, and some vastly different. Though I have no experience with either (THAT would be a real trip!), both sailors and pilots have to do this all the time. Starting out with a plan to go from point A to point B doesn't mean that everything is going to go as planned. Even the best laid plans have factors influence them in many different ways, many of which are fully outside the control of those who made them. Adjustments are made for wind and water currents, storms, and other events which have a huge impact on the success or failure of the journey.
As I stated at the beginning of this rambling post, it happened again this summer. No, it has nothing to do with me being eligible for the freakin senior discount at IHOP next month (though I don't really see a downside there). I got a call one night from my sweet daughter in law telling me Grandma (my mom) wasn't feeling well at all and felt like she should go to the hospital. At the time, I was at the casino, trying to recover some of my donation I had made to the Native Americans previously in the evening. Stupid machine finally started 'hitting' (never mind...high level gamblerspeak), and I got the call. Well, crap! People are never thoughtful enough to get sick when it's convenient. How thoughtless. I left my million dollar jackpot behind (I KNOW it was coming!) and headed to the hospital.
At 5 the next morning, I was headed to the house to get a little sleep before driving back to the hospital. Mom had pancreatitis and was admitted to try to keep it from getting out of hand. Now that Dad is gone, her second hubby George passed away, she moved to the Tulsa area so she could be closer for times such as these. This was definitely one of those times. Mom, like her mother before her, has always been very healthy. No major issues. She hasn't been in the hospital but a couple of times in her life. While there, she had a bit of pneumonia. I stayed with her during the weekend, though leaving at night to sleep in an actual bed, knowing mom was in very capable hands. That following week, between work and going back to the hospital to check on the patient, it was a tough one. On Wednesday, as they were checking her out to see if the pancreas had calmed down sufficiently, they found she had extreme pain in her lower right abdomen. After a CT scan and sonogram, they discovered something like a mass that didn't look good on her right ovary.
The doc wanted to do a laparoscopic procedure to investigate and take some tissue for examination. While there, he removed both of her surprisingly healthy ovaries. My mom is still quite the character...though kind of quiet (though many times tactless throughout her life when she does speak). The radiology tech was checking out her heart before the surgery and when he was snapping her gown on her arm where he gained access, he missed a snap. He unsnapped again, and while fixing his mistake, he pinched her arm in the snap. She winced and said 'ow', and then proceeded to roll onto her back and full on punched him (closed fisted) in the chest! THUMP! He looked shocked, rightfully so. Casey and I are choking on ourselves from laughing so hard. After she gets off probation, I'm sure she'll treat hospital staff much better. Makes me glad I wasn't more of a smartass earlier in my life!
So we were in the hospital even longer. After release, I knew she wasn't going to be able to stay by herself. Pain meds were making her see things I haven't heard described since the late 1960's. She was pretty weak, and definitely could not stay at her house alone. "PICK ME!", I said. Lies. All. Lies. I wish my response would have been altruistic, but sadly it wasn't. I moaned, I groaned, and I asked God why the heck I couldn't have had a SISTER! Not to sound sexist (or more sexist), women tend to be a liiiiitle more hardwired to be nurturers than dudes are. I'm a very caring person, sympathetic, empathetic, but when it comes to that nurturing gene...I know I'm a tad handicapped.
Right about there was where the SLAP came again that I'm all too familiar with. Not from Mom, but from life. I realized that Mom is 84. This will probably happen again...and again. And even though her mom lived to be close to 100, these bodies aren't designed to last forever as they are. They slowly wear out. And as I'm becoming much more aware every day, it takes a little longer to snap back from sickness as a person gets older. I also realized I HAVE no sister, nor any siblings that live close enough to be of any help. "Mark", I said, "it's all you bucko!" But I've just shoved those kids out of the nest...it's MY time now to do WHAT I want, WHEN I want! I have a window of time to be a little selfish. But it appears it isn't happening. To be characteristically honest and transparent with you, I didn't like the idea, felt somehow slighted, and did, in fact, pout about it a little bit.
Thankfully that part didn't last long. It's the circle of life. Your parents take care of you the first 20 years of your life, making sure your needs are taken care of, and then you spend a few years at the end of your parent's life returning that favor. I think I'm gonna be ok with that. I didn't lack for anything when I was weak and vulnerable, and as Mom gets there, she shouldn't either. That's not to say we've always gotten along swimmingly, but I was kind of a pain in the butt too.
And I know this. The day will come when I'm in Mom's orthopedic shoes. I've always been healthy too, but I'm not sure my luck will hold out until my last day. I don't have any daughters either. I have three sons who, to be honest, sometimes scare me! Hahaha jk...kinda. I know I'll need them too one day, and hopefully there will be some compassion for me as well. But mark my words...I'm gonna save up the biggest, baddest pantload for the oldest one...I owe him one! Work on those ninja skills, boyo!! Seriously...just please remember how much I love you guys...please?? ;) FG
I remember when my kids started coming into the picture. The moment you see that wet, red, shriveled up mass of flesh (why some call that cute, I'll never know), the reality that your life is going to change drastically hits you. You've dreamed and fantasized about what it's going to be like. You've prepared the little one's room, bought a truckload of diapers, baby wipes, baby powder, baby shampoo, baby lotion, diaper rash stuff (whatever), baby onesies (yes I know what that is), and a plethora of other babyish items to stuff a room in your house with. Then when you hear that thump on the floor and your baby's first cries (yes, Kyle, your head is that way for a reason), you realize it's very real.
This little bundle of organs and flesh will require LOTS of your time and attention. Some of the things you used to enjoy, you know, like not getting interrupted when you're engrossed in that movie you've been waiting to see on TV, pre-DVR recorder/pause button days. And getting to eat a complete meal. Or when you get that diaper load at the most inopportune time. My oldest, had it running out of the leg and waist bands of his diaper in the middle of a very nice gift shop at a hospital once. My ninja skills were honed that day as I had to figure out how to get him out to the car, get the keys out of my pocket, find somewhere to put him while I dug through the diaper bag to find a changing pad and all the rest of the necessary equipment to change that mess (and his clothes) while both hands were covered with a Grey Poupon (ironic, huh?) colored mess all over both of my hands...oh, and down the front of my slacks.
It happened again when Dad was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). That 'life smack' actually smarted a bit. Life was rocking along just fine. Another kid had been added to the tribe (Trevorino) and there was a new job and new house. The docs couldn't figure out exactly what was going on to cause his limbs to weaken one by one. Then the diagnosis came. It took my breath away. I knew what it meant, I just didn't know it would move so fast. I understood that sometime in the not too distant future, my Dad would be gone. Who would I call when I had good news? Who would I call when I needed advice? Who would I talk to when I needed help fixing something, and no one but the master of all things repaired would be able to help?? Who would tell those amazing Grandpa stories to the now third addition (Yoseph Miguel, AKA Joey) Everything would change dramatically in two short years as we buried his remains in the National Cemetery.
It's happened several times with both additions and subtractions as the years have worn on. Business ventures gone awry...relationships jacked up, friends both made and lost, job transitions, relocations, daughters in law added, the first lil man added to the family... all bring about the need to adjust and move forward the best you can, realizing some things will be different, and some vastly different. Though I have no experience with either (THAT would be a real trip!), both sailors and pilots have to do this all the time. Starting out with a plan to go from point A to point B doesn't mean that everything is going to go as planned. Even the best laid plans have factors influence them in many different ways, many of which are fully outside the control of those who made them. Adjustments are made for wind and water currents, storms, and other events which have a huge impact on the success or failure of the journey.
As I stated at the beginning of this rambling post, it happened again this summer. No, it has nothing to do with me being eligible for the freakin senior discount at IHOP next month (though I don't really see a downside there). I got a call one night from my sweet daughter in law telling me Grandma (my mom) wasn't feeling well at all and felt like she should go to the hospital. At the time, I was at the casino, trying to recover some of my donation I had made to the Native Americans previously in the evening. Stupid machine finally started 'hitting' (never mind...high level gamblerspeak), and I got the call. Well, crap! People are never thoughtful enough to get sick when it's convenient. How thoughtless. I left my million dollar jackpot behind (I KNOW it was coming!) and headed to the hospital.
At 5 the next morning, I was headed to the house to get a little sleep before driving back to the hospital. Mom had pancreatitis and was admitted to try to keep it from getting out of hand. Now that Dad is gone, her second hubby George passed away, she moved to the Tulsa area so she could be closer for times such as these. This was definitely one of those times. Mom, like her mother before her, has always been very healthy. No major issues. She hasn't been in the hospital but a couple of times in her life. While there, she had a bit of pneumonia. I stayed with her during the weekend, though leaving at night to sleep in an actual bed, knowing mom was in very capable hands. That following week, between work and going back to the hospital to check on the patient, it was a tough one. On Wednesday, as they were checking her out to see if the pancreas had calmed down sufficiently, they found she had extreme pain in her lower right abdomen. After a CT scan and sonogram, they discovered something like a mass that didn't look good on her right ovary.
The doc wanted to do a laparoscopic procedure to investigate and take some tissue for examination. While there, he removed both of her surprisingly healthy ovaries. My mom is still quite the character...though kind of quiet (though many times tactless throughout her life when she does speak). The radiology tech was checking out her heart before the surgery and when he was snapping her gown on her arm where he gained access, he missed a snap. He unsnapped again, and while fixing his mistake, he pinched her arm in the snap. She winced and said 'ow', and then proceeded to roll onto her back and full on punched him (closed fisted) in the chest! THUMP! He looked shocked, rightfully so. Casey and I are choking on ourselves from laughing so hard. After she gets off probation, I'm sure she'll treat hospital staff much better. Makes me glad I wasn't more of a smartass earlier in my life!
So we were in the hospital even longer. After release, I knew she wasn't going to be able to stay by herself. Pain meds were making her see things I haven't heard described since the late 1960's. She was pretty weak, and definitely could not stay at her house alone. "PICK ME!", I said. Lies. All. Lies. I wish my response would have been altruistic, but sadly it wasn't. I moaned, I groaned, and I asked God why the heck I couldn't have had a SISTER! Not to sound sexist (or more sexist), women tend to be a liiiiitle more hardwired to be nurturers than dudes are. I'm a very caring person, sympathetic, empathetic, but when it comes to that nurturing gene...I know I'm a tad handicapped.
Right about there was where the SLAP came again that I'm all too familiar with. Not from Mom, but from life. I realized that Mom is 84. This will probably happen again...and again. And even though her mom lived to be close to 100, these bodies aren't designed to last forever as they are. They slowly wear out. And as I'm becoming much more aware every day, it takes a little longer to snap back from sickness as a person gets older. I also realized I HAVE no sister, nor any siblings that live close enough to be of any help. "Mark", I said, "it's all you bucko!" But I've just shoved those kids out of the nest...it's MY time now to do WHAT I want, WHEN I want! I have a window of time to be a little selfish. But it appears it isn't happening. To be characteristically honest and transparent with you, I didn't like the idea, felt somehow slighted, and did, in fact, pout about it a little bit.
Thankfully that part didn't last long. It's the circle of life. Your parents take care of you the first 20 years of your life, making sure your needs are taken care of, and then you spend a few years at the end of your parent's life returning that favor. I think I'm gonna be ok with that. I didn't lack for anything when I was weak and vulnerable, and as Mom gets there, she shouldn't either. That's not to say we've always gotten along swimmingly, but I was kind of a pain in the butt too.
And I know this. The day will come when I'm in Mom's orthopedic shoes. I've always been healthy too, but I'm not sure my luck will hold out until my last day. I don't have any daughters either. I have three sons who, to be honest, sometimes scare me! Hahaha jk...kinda. I know I'll need them too one day, and hopefully there will be some compassion for me as well. But mark my words...I'm gonna save up the biggest, baddest pantload for the oldest one...I owe him one! Work on those ninja skills, boyo!! Seriously...just please remember how much I love you guys...please?? ;) FG
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