$500 or, No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

My daughter and I both took the day off Friday so that we could make the four-hour drive down to see my stepmother, who was finishing up her first week of brain radiation.  We stopped on the way down to pick up one of my sons, whom my stepmother is especially fond of, from college, and made it down there in time to wait a bit on her and my father, trapped in traffic coming from the other direction. 

The news from my dad the night before had been all bad -- little sleep and lots of puking -- so we weren't feeling too optimistic about our visit.  However, a new anti-nausea med had kicked in and my stepmother had kept some food down and was feeling practically perky over the thought of two days at home, with nary a doctor nor technician in sight.  We had a nice little visit, and then the kids and I went out to the local restaurant for dinner, before returning to my dad's for another short visit.

At the restaurant, we ran into a couple I had known long ago.  In fact, I had gone on my first real date with their son, so I was able to regale my kids with the story: his parents driving us to a movie (we were 14 and lived far out in the country, so long road trips were a prerequisite to any form of entertainment), and discreetly dropping us off afterward at the end of my family's lengthy drive.  Their discretion was utterly defeated by my father, waiting at the front door with all the house lights ablaze.  That was -- wow! 37 years ago! -- and it was nice to see them again.

As we pulled out of my dad's drive late Friday, and  headed to my brother's for the night, our car began to make the kind of loud and awful noise that you do not ever want to hear -- and most especially not on a Friday night in a rural area 250 miles from home.  Not a thing we could do about it, so we decided to soak in my brother's hot tub and catch up on the news.

He told us that my stepmother is receiving few visitors -- her family and friends are finding her situation difficult to deal with and responding by not showing up.  In fact, her two sisters, for whom she has provided endless support as they have faced various difficulties, are in Florida.  My sister-in-law has concluded that they really don't grasp the fact that if they let many weeks slip by, they may no longer be able to engage in the kinds of conversations with her that they would want to.

He also said that my father is dealing with the whole matter by talking, almost nonstop, about medical and technological matters, leaving little room for his wife to get a word in.  We had noticed when we were at their house that as long as my children paid rapt attention to him, she could sit quietly and talk to me.  Not surprisingly, she has little interest in the technology.  She wants to talk about her hopes for survival.  She's not quite ready to talk about the likelihood of death that looms over her.

Each person deals in his or her own way, and it's one thing to have a deadly cancer and another to be the husband or wife.  It seems clear that it's a good idea for visitors to double or triple up, so that both patient and spouse can talk about their issues in their own ways -- to different people.

The next morning brought us a list of phone numbers and, eventually, a local mechanic who spent his entire afternoon in my brother's driveway, replacing our air conditioning compressor.  I now know what a compressor looks like, or at least what a broken and partially melted compressor looks like, and it's been explained to me what such a device does.  Translation: I have absolutely no idea what I just spent $500 on.

I had just received a check for $550 dollars from my employer -- mileage reimbursement for my trip to a seminar in northern Michigan in July.  I had been so excited to have extra cash arrive right before Christmas.

Ha ha ha. 

So while our vehicle was being reconstructed,we did not get to visit my grandmother (another two hour round trip), or see my brother's new house.  But we did get to visit with my family and see my stepmother up and alert for a long period of time on Saturday.  She had slept all night Friday, and her brother and his wife were over to spend some time with her, and share their stories of local politics (he's the town mayor).  All good stuff.  She was asleep by the time our car was repaired, so I left with some hope of another visit in another couple of weeks.