The phone started ringing about 6:30 this morning. It was Christina. "It's hot in here ... Can you come check my air conditioning?" I said, no. Please don't call before 9:00. Well, she called and called. After Alex got up, I took my coffee and the newspaper and went out to sit on the front step. I still felt rather ... disconnected, I guess. No, not disconnected. Just ... run over, by yesterday's events. But Christina must have heard me talking to someone because she soon appeared. "Will you PLEASE come help me?" I said no, not until 9:00. Not because it would have been that much effort to walk down to her place, glance at her machine, and tell her it was fine, but because I had set a limit, and felt it was essential to stick with it. As she was standing there, begging me, and I was sitting on the step, refusing, Marvin (the man who's in charge of building the new units) walked up behind her and said, "Now, you leave her alone. She has a sick husband. He's SICK. You stop badgering her, you hear me? I'm going to call your sister." Well, come to find out, Marvin has her sister's number! And he did call her. But she lives in Seattle. (Marvin reported later that Christina had called her sister several times that morning, too.) I went back in the house. Christina called again. Mark got on the phone and told her to stop. She called again. I got on, and said, "Christina, I'm sorry. I wish I could help you, but you call and call. I can't take care of you. I will not be coming down to look at your air conditioner any more. Call your family. I cannot take care of you." She called one more time. "Will you come down ...?" I said, "No, Christina. I will not. Good-bye." And I hung up. Then her family started arriving ... Thank glorious God above!!! I think the Seattle sister must have called in the local troops. It appears that they may be moving her in with one of them?? I don't know. But the phone calls have finally stopped.... I can't even tell you how glad I was to see their cars pull in this morning! I feel bad for her. I really, truly do. And I AM willing to go out of my way to help her, when I can. But she has pushed me beyond my limits.
On a different note, I had an interesting talk with Alex this afternoon. He's having a rough day today (or was, before our chat). He had been reprimanded several times, and had been sent to his room for being rude. He finally asked me, "Why do you think I'm being so grouchy?" I said, "Well, maybe you're bored. Or maybe you are feeling stressed from Daddy being in the hospital yesterday." He said, "But Daddy's home now." I said, "Well, sometimes our minds protect us. We don't feel things too strongly while they are happening because we need to be strong. Our minds only let us feel them when it's safe to do so." We talked some more, including about the way he shows that he is stressed. Finally he said, "Can you find someone to help me not be so grouchy?" I told him, yes, I can, and I will. I emailed a friend today. We were friends in college, and then he went on and became a therapist. He now works with addicted teenagers. I realized that, while autistic ten-year-olds are not his specialty, he may very know who would be good for him. Hopefully, I'll be able to get Alex in with someone soon.
Things went downhill not long afterwards. Mark hadn't been feeling terrific all day, but he was able to go in and put in some time working at the church this afternoon. His heart kept slipping into SVT though. I was sitting her, after dinner, typing an email, when he came downstairs and said he didn't feel good. He sat down on the bottom step and said, "Jenn ... I need you." And then he collapsed. The medics thought, "Stroke." Just a mild one. But tests at the hospital ruled that out. The only thing that's really clear is that his magnesium is low. His triponen level (which would indicate oxygen deprivation to the heart) is a wee bit high, but not frighteningly so. They speculate that this incident may have been caused by an arrhythmia, possibly V-tach, especially considering that while we were there, his monitor kept alarming for irregular rhythms. But they didn't see anything particularly alarming during the time that we were in the ER. He's upstairs now, in a regular hospital room, being monitored for at least 12 hours.
More than one person has suggested hospice to us, and sometimes that seems like the "solution." But then nights like tonight happen, and I'm reminded ... if he were on hospice, he would have to sign a DNR and agree not to go in to the ER. While it would be SO convenient to have the nurses come to the house to help with his pain management, something like a stroke, which can often be diffused with timely intervention, could incapacitate or even kill him if he didn't go in to the hospital. Yes, I realize that his days are numbered. But they're not over yet. And I'm convinced that he needs to keep thinking about life, that he MUST keep pushing forward, or else ... he will be gone. While I long for the assistance that hospice would bring, I'm afraid that it would be signing his death warrant. He's fighting right now, with all he's got. He's exercising, what little bit that he can: doing sit ups and going for walks. He's starting a charity to help provide ipods for chronically ill children. He's reading. He's working, whenever he can. I think--no, I know, somehow, deep in my gut--that if we force hospice on him, he will die. I think he needs to be allow to fight for the chance to keep on fighting, as tough as that fight may be.
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