I’m sorry for such a delayed post. You’re all probably hating me right now. Mom made it through, she’s okay.
The surgery went according to plan, no mess ups.
Doctors were worried and prepared us for the possibility of her not leaving the table. God gave us another miracle.
On day one, after surgery, Mom didn’t speak or open her eyes. She lay in the ICU covered in bandages. She managed to say “owww” when Dad pulled out the pillows from under her head or did anything to “help.” My family drove me nuts perusal and I had to leave the room so I wouldn’t scream at them. Eventually, my boyfriend came looking for me and would find me in some hallway, sitting against some wall. We’d sit there together for a few hours, or until I had the strength to see Mom how she was and handle my family civilly.
Day two, she started to open her eyes and made sounds, like she was trying to speak. She was in there somewhere and I was relieved. All I wanted to do is sit by her bed and hold her hand; tell her I love her even though she wouldn’t respond. That’s what I did. She was starving and lunch sat on a tray in front of her until I came an hour later, she couldn’t move to eat of course and nobody thought to help her. She ate like she’d never had food before and then said “Feel. better. I,” with a slight smile and for the first time fell asleep.
On day three, she moved to the eighth floor. She kept touching her black eye and trying to pry it open which made me nearly pass out. She started saying words but they didn’t make any sense. Mainly a bunch of rambling and she was mad. She was uncomfortable and irritated with everything. I had never seen Mom like that before. Her eyes were so full of pain that just looking at her I could have started sobbing. It took me half an hour to figure out that she wanted me to shave her face. Her skin was dry and thin from the pill bottles she’s been on for the past nine months, if I were to put a blade to it she’d bleed. Dad handed me his razor and told me to do it. I told him I’d cut her, her skin is too frail and there isn’t any hair to shave. It was ridiculous!! Mom is losing all of her hair yet she wants me to shave her face.
Dad forced the razor into my hand and told me to just do it. I said no and he looked at me again and said “Kate just shave her face,” angrily. Mom was yelling nonsense and I was so tired of being in hospital rooms, I was so tired of my dad being a jerk, all week, all month. Suddenly I had no air and my chest was so tight and my pulse was about to jump out of my wrist. Again I said no, I threw the razor on the bed and walked out. My dad was shocked, both of my 80-something-year-old grandmothers sat on the couch staring at me. I passed the doctor in the hallway and he noticed my eyes filled with unshed tears, I didn’t even care that people were staring at me.
I don’t know why it pushed me past my breaking point but it did. Dad is a teller and never an asker, honestly, I’m getting a little old for it. It wasn’t just this one thing, it’s too many things to write about. It’s starting to become abusive and I can’t help but feel like I’m treated like dirt. My boyfriend stood there waiting for me outside the elevators and then I actually started sobbing.
I’m just so sick of it. My Pastor came to pray over Mom and bring her flowers, Dad just told stories of things he’s done for Mom to make him sound like a “hero husband,” which made me sick. Even though Mom couldn’t talk, I knew she was embarrassed. After my little walk-out, I had to get my backpack out of the room but didn’t want to go back in there. I asked Isaac to bring my stuff down and Dad came instead. He asked why I wasn’t coming back, and said “This is hard for all of us, this isn’t just about you, I’ve been doing everything for Mom.” I just needed a little break from my family, mainly him, but of course, he wouldn’t give me that luxury. He said, “Better suck it up kid because mom’s bandages are off now and it looks way worse.”
He’s never been good at making me better.
I was such an emotional wreck that day and all Dad did was wiggle the knife. I never came back to the hospital, Dad called me multiple times asking if I planned on coming the next day, or the next, or the next since I left early once. He asked me twenty times in three days if I would clean the house before mom came home and twenty times I said yes. Then, he calls and said he needed a favor. He couldn’t work this week so he needed me to pay the bills. Jerk moves all week bruh.
Mom is okay and frankly that’s all that matters to me. 🙂
Thanks for reading. -Elaina
Elaine Kate 