Life can be so unpredictable! When you’re taking care of people that are sick in your family, every day is a new adventure. You don’t know whether they will be alive or dead when you go in the morning to check and see how they are doing.
Sometimes, from a selfish perspective, you wish that everything would finally come to a conclusion. Then you stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about the others in your life that God has put there for you to take care of.
If you are taking care of someone in your family that is sick or dying. I know that you probably experience the same doubts, frustrations, anger and fears. Sometimes you get angry. Other times, you’re frustrated. Then you wonder if you are doing a good job. Then you fear they will die today. You probably wish that you had your old life, back before your family members became ill.
Isn’t it interesting how this becomes almost a moment to moment battle within your own mind. The only way that I can get through all this is through prayer and choosing to think positive thoughts. The prayers of others have definitely been an uplifting event in my life. At this point in time when both my dad and Janet’s mom are near death, you don’t know whether to be happy or sad…sometimes it is both almost instantaneously.
You realize that if they do pass from this world to the next, they will go straight to heaven because of the difficulty of their lives and their special relationship with Jesus Christ. You feel that you would be overjoyed at the end of their suffering and the beginning of their glorified bodies. But, you wonder if this is just your own selfishness, wishing for a conclusion to your commitment to help take care of your loved ones.
I want to thank all the people that are continuing to send me e-mails lifting my dad and my family up in prayer. You really see the goodness of people in your life most powerfully when you are having difficult times. I know that no one really wants to have to go through trials and tribulations, but it helps you become a better person and increases your trust in God.
Below is the second entry into my blog concerning my dad’s illness
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“The Terrible Realization That One Of the Greatest Heroes In Your Life Hovers Between Life and Death Ripped My Heart To Shreds” by Ralph Zuranski
This is the story of the first part of our trip to San Diego included in the blog posted on May 31 that is now archived. Including it with this first posting in June makes it easier for you to share our entire experience.
The first day we drove for 14 hours.
Janet was so tired she was almost comatose. I was pumped up and just wanted to get to my parent’s house. My dad and mom needed our help.
When Janet started putting a towel over her head and mumbling in her sleep, it was time to get a hotel.
She was twisted into a pretzel, having to share her space with the overflow of items that would not fit in the trunk or back seat. It was time to stop at the very next exit that featured motels or hotels.
What would be the best choice, “Motel West” or “Motel East?”
These are strange options when there is only one hotel visible. I decided to try “Motel West.” Certainly it would offer more choices. As I took the turnoff, the “Twilight Zone” arrived suddenly.
The sign had lied.
There were not motels. We continued to drive east on a deserted road. Was this a mistake? Were we insane…headed for the “Bates Motel.” Eventually “Motel East” transformed into “Motel West.” We drove by three small motels out of the 50s, then were back at the HWY 10. I made a U-turn. We pulled into the one that looked less seedy than the rest.
“Can we make a deal?”
The hotel manager was obviously from India. At 11 PM, in the middle of nowhere, there was some bargaining power was on my side. “How much for a non-smoking room with double beds?” He answered, “$39.95.” “How about a deal? Do you accept AARP, AAMCO, AAA or have a special for people over 55? (What’s the deal with all the As in these organizations?”) He said, “How about $29.99?” “Okay,” I agreed.
The motel manager had just dropped his price to the same as the other two competing motels.
He knew his competitors’ prices and that if he did not give me the going rate, we were on to the next motel. My credit card accepted one more charge in the long procession of gas, food and treats.
At the room, I proceeded to unload all our valuable possessions as Janet prepared for restful slumber.
Actually Janet was already asleep and just sleep walking, mumbling about how insensitive I was because of not stopping sooner. After 20 minutes there was barely enough room in the rooms to get into bed. No matter, Janet and I were so tired, we fell into bed in a state of exhausted oblivion.
Oh man, now it was time to pack all that stuff back into the car again.
You guessed it. “Yes!,” Janet said. “You wanted to unload the car, now load it back up again while I make myself pretty.” “Okay,” I muttered under my breath, hoping she would not hear my reply. After another 30 minutes…it took longer to reload it than unload it for some reason…we were ready to go.
If only there was a “Starbucks” in the general vicinity, my day would be saved, as my caffeine addiction would be satisfied.
But, wishful thinking again. After all, what was I thinking? We were in the middle of nowhere.
Finally, we arrived in Tucson, civilization and “Starbucks” I hoped.
Well, no “Starbucks,” but we did find a coffee house. My withdrawal symptoms were reaching extreme levels of discomfort. Before the car even stopped, I was out the door into the shop begging for a “cup of Joe”…the strongest they had available. The first sip was bliss, my shattered nerves shouting for joy.
The beautiful girls gave us directions to a “Cracker Barrel” where the breakfast was delicious.
Then it was back to the coffee shop for a refill. They even gave me a free sample of a “cherry, whipped cream, chocolate ice something or other.” While sipping the unexpected treat, the gorgeous blond behind the counter begged us to take her to San Diego. “Sorry, Janet said, “Our car is too packed. You could not fit anything else in even if you had a shoe horn.”
A wild thought suddenly coursed through my mind.
“You could lie spread eagle on the hood, but it would be a real bad hair day.” Being married for 8 years, the pain of experience of stupid comments forced me to keep this thought secret. It was only another macho, sex-driven, horney guy impulse that seemed to afflict men like a disease 24 hours a day.
On the way out the door, I innocently asked another stupid question.
“Hey did that cherry thing have any caffeine in it?” The girls just laughed. “That little treat was equivalent to two shots of espresso.”
Yikes! With the previous cup of strong coffee, the treat and my current coffee reload, my mouth would be moving spontaneously the rest of the 8 hour trip.
Janet would have to keep saying, “Shut up! Stop talking. You are drinking way too much coffee. You will be a “Monkey Man” all the way to San Diego.” How true…Caffeine bliss to the max.
The hardest thing in the world is to leave you genetic family who needs your help.
A cloud of sorrow floats over our car. We almost feel just like the little character in the comic strip “Little Abner,” that had a floating black cloud over his head that followed him everywhere…one disaster after another.
We are shell shocked after experiencing two catastrophic health related events in our family in less than sixty days.
It is natural to whine and complain and say, “Why did this happen to our family? Why can’t others take care of them? Why do we have to radically change our lives to take an active part in helping my mom and dad?
Of course, these are “woe is me,” self-centered and selfish questions that stream through most mind at times like this as the battle on what to do is waged between the selfish and selfless parts of our nature.
No one likes change. Moving across the country to a new state is an incredible expenditure of time, energy and money. Changing snail mail and email addresses, home and cell phone numbers is difficult and time consuming. Finding new internet consulting clients in San Diego is one more gigantic challenge.
The least I could do is love them with all my heart.
It is important to help them in every way possible. This I believe is the least that God’s expects of us.
Few realize how huge chunks of time are gobbled up by life threatening incidents.
Sitting by their bedside, hoping against hope that your loved ones will survive is exhausting and time consuming. You pray that by the grace of God they will recover completely.
This a tense and stressful time!
Everyone is under extreme emotional and physical pressure. There is little rest, especially when talking about a full night of peaceful sleep. What is that anyway….a dream of the past? The “What Ifs” plague your mind.
Moving into a small space with two other people, even if they are your parents, takes a tremendous amount of sensitivity and caring.
It is challenging to move back into your parents house without adversely affecting their life style, privacy and living space. We live in a one bedroom apartment. Even that space is too small for all of our possessions.
Working from home is challenging to say the least.
Business stuff is scattered everywhere. Moving personal and business lives into a small room with a mini closet will test organizational skill to the max. Our only hope is the workshop out in back or a “Rent-a-Space” to hold the overflow.
Janet could not believe El Centro is close to 25 feet below sea level.
As we passed the famous water tank that shows “sea level” with a prominent mark on its side, we consider our thoughts of being overwhelmed…almost like downing, crushed by the events of life…pushed down into the depths of sorrow by a tidal wave of difficult decisions caused by a series of unfortunate events. We were desperately trying to keep our heads above waves of reality, constantly pounding on our hearts, shattering our hopes and dreams, altering our lives for ever.
Thank God for caffeine.
The girls at the coffee shop were not kidding. The dosage of caffeine in my system must have approached 8 on the Richter scale. My hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard the knuckles were turning white. My lips moved in a ceaseless flow of nervous chatter.
Frightening questions streamed through my mind, in a flood of emotion as I fought to keep tears from streaming down my cheeks.
I just did not know how to calm my heart and overcome my fears about my dad. Would he live or die? Would he be an invalid for the rest of his days? Would he suffer from intolerable pain? Would he need 24-hour care? What was the health of their finances?
The scenery in Alpine was gorgeous.
As our car popped up over the mountain range and entered Alpine, the beauty was breathtaking. For a few moments, I meditated on God’s blessings, mercy and goodness. There is always a silver lining in the darkest of clouds…something good that comes out of the worst tragedy.
The glorious greenery, spared from the devastating fires radiated emerald highlights.
The contrast between the dead, burned areas was striking. Suddenly, a ray of hope flooded my soul. A strange calm settled over my soul. The peace of God that goes beyond understanding suddenly permeated my being.
The contrast of the the brightness of the sun’s rays illuminating the dead, burned areas and the glorious, living trees became a powerful lesson in our lives.
Janet and I needed hope to calm our fears. As I mentioned my insight to Janet, we both cried.
Over the last four years so much sorrow had crushed our hopes and dreams.
Janet fractured her spine on Thanksgiving weekend of November of 2001. Her car was broadsided by another driver, totaling the car. She was bed ridden for almost 2 months. Then Janet’s beloved Dr. Robert Winslow, the alternative medicine doctor she worked for close to 15 years, suffered a crippling stroke in March of 2002. He was the father she never had. (Dr. Winslow was the first doctor inducted into the Alternative Medicine Hall Of Fame.) Without his leadership the business died a slow death. The final burial was in May of 2004.
Janet’s daughter-in-law experienced two collapsed lungs over a 6 month period.
During these last two years, Janet cried daily for the loved ones in her life. Our lives were filled with sorrow and tragedy. Prayer and trusting in the goodness and love of God were the only things that kept us going.
Now, with the tragedies striking my family, this revelation of God’s marvelous plan, calmed our fears and encouraged our hearts.
We felt at peace after so much suffering. Our hands crept toward each other until they were clasped in intimate spiritual union. With God’s help and grace we knew we could handle anything that would come our way.
The traffic flowing out of San Diego in a steady stream was incredible…bumper-to-bumper, as residents raced at a standstill to begin their Memorial Day holiday.
Almost like lemmings, racing down a commonly followed path, the cars crept along at a snails pace, hauling trailers, dune buggies, boats, etc. The gas consumption was awesome.
I could almost see the gas gauges creep toward empty, especially on the SUVs and large trucks with the mega-powered, super-charged engines.
“Now that has to hurt,” I thought as I passed a gas station, shocked by the price of gas. $2.50 a gallon was outrageous. Even in Dallas, the price was only $1.70 a gallon. “What was this world coming to?”
Home sweet home.
Few lucky individuals have the opportunity to live in the house they grew up in. My mom and dad still lived in the same little house in Ocean Beach. After almost 52 years, it was still as pristine as the day it was constructed.
My dad and mom are both nurtures…born with green thumbs.
The number of plants in glorious living color covering every square inch of soil was phenomenal. I suddenly wondered what would happen to all these radiant, happy plants. I managed to kill every plant in my life by either over-watering, under-watering or pure neglect. Janet was not much better.
No one was home so I fears skyrocketed.
As we opened, a foreboding silence penetrated our consciousness. Where was mom? How was dad? We raced to unload the car so we could drive to the hospital to see dad. We prayed he was still alive.
The living room looked like a cyclone hit.
The contents of the car were strewn everywhere. It was hard to believe so much stuff could be transported in a 1998 Camry. Anxiety filled our minds. No one’s cell phone produced a live person. What were we to do?
The answer suddenly appeared!
Denise, my younger sister drove up to the curb and deposited mom at our feet. Everyone hugged as tears rolled down our faces. “How is dad doing?” was the big question. Mom said, “He seems to be doing better but cannot swallow, move his left arm and leg or open his eyes.” Wow, that did not sound very encouraging. I guess he was a lot worse, right after the stoke when death was a frightening possibility.
The race to the hospital to see my dad broke the speed limits.
We were anxious to see dad, hold his hand and give him a kiss on the cheek. As we entered the hospital, I had transposed the last two numbers of his room. Instead of 814 it had become 841. As we raced down the halls, looking for the correct room, we came up blank. Janet, the faithful and helpful spouse, remembered that the room was 814. With her help we found the correct room.
In our wildest imaginations, we were not prepared for the grim sight that met our hopeful eyes.
My dad was a slight reflection of his former self. Pain and paralysis warped his gentle features. Tubes streamed from his body as he struggled to breathe. The blood trickled from his nose, around the feeding tube taped in place. A machine trickled liquid nutrients into his emaciated body. A clear bag collected the dark urine, mingled with blood, from the irritation caused by the catheter. Other tubes dangled from his body, winding their way to different beeping and blinking machines.
Silent tears poured down our cheeks.
To be continued…