On January 27, 2012, after an eight month battle, my husband Tom quietly slipped away. As I had promised him, he was in our house, facing the window, surrounded by a messy room, our dogs, and the greatest love.
These last three months were filled with challenge, hope, and despair. For a while it seemed as though we were about to beat the odds, then one day Tom seemed to just give up. He died at peace, and out of pain.
So, did we win? Did we defeat the beast? Or did we lose the battle? Some might say we lost the battle to save his life. I’m preferring to say we WON the battle to let him die in his own time.
What more can we do for those we love?
I found out recently from his sister, Tom died on the same day their father “crashed” in the hospital. Though doctors were able to bring their father back, he essentially died on that day. Life is far stranger than fiction.
If anyone reading this knew Tom, and wants to make some gesture in support of his wonderful life, please just do one thing for us. Turn to the person you love the most, and hug them. And pass that love on to everyone you meet.
Monthly Archives: January 2012
Winner or Loser?
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Who comes up with this stuff?
With Tom bedridden, we watch a lot of television. It’s not like we can dash into town, so we bring the outside world to us. Television being what it is, we see a lot of commercials. So when a new commercial aired, with the slogan “It’s the (fast food breakfast sandwich) of [fill in the blank]” We looked at each other and said “HUH?” Do they mean it’s cheap and tasteless? Really bad for our health? Highly overrated?
What WERE they thinking?
Then you have the commercials for male enhancement products. And aren’t those fun to be watching? You get to the cautions, one of which is to let your doctor know if you have blurred vision. Wasn’t it a mantra when we were younger “you do that, you’ll go blind?” Or was that for an earlier time than most remember?
What WERE they thinking?
Car insurance commercials. We’re going to buy insurance because a weird little rodent, excuse me reptile with an accent says it’s a good idea? Because a Neanderthal gets offended, or a pig squeals? Really? A snide talking baby is going to get me to invest money I don’t have?
And we’re supposed to believe getting a cut rate cell phone service immediately turns normal people into rude morons who think they can afford anything they want because they’re saving a few bucks each month?
Who comes up with these ideas and more to the point, who approves them? Even more to the point than that, who pays any attention to them?
I will give kudos to the silly extreme snowboarding truck. And whoever came up with the disclaimer of “overly dramatic dramatization” no doubt creates at warp speed.
Maybe writing makes me a bit too critical. Or maybe it’s because I write for adults and the commercials are geared toward?????
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They Call it Respite
I can’t believe how long it has been since the last post. Might have to do some extras to catch up since so much has happened. Let’s talk about respite, a term used in hospice care to identify a relief period for the caretaker, when the patient is moved to a facility.
In December, Tom was advanced enough to handle a short trip, and I needed to go to a meeting in Florida. Hospice care chose the best facility with an open bed, and he was moved there on Monday so I could fly out on Tuesday, spend time visiting with my father and youngest brother on Wednesday, then go to work on Thursday and Friday.
While he was at this facility, our expectation was he would be assisted in the actions that take two people, and since he was in the care of trained professionals instead of a harried writer, his care would be better than he had at home.
Well, yeah. Ahem. Let’s just say he now appreciates home care much more than he did before, and we’ll leave it at that.
Skilled Nursing Facilities, nursing homes, elderly care–whatever you want to call it–are necessary. But I wonder how many people realize what it’s like to spend the end of your days in the care of strangers, at the mercy of an overworked staff? It might behoove those who have never been to a SNF to check them out some times. I’m sure some are better than others, and as I said they are necessary when there is no family available to tend to the elderly. Communes have pretty much gone out of style and our lives have become too hectic to be burdened by elder care.
So Tom came home the next Saturday, slept like a stone the first few days, and was most grateful for his morning cup of cocoa. The time away hadn’t lost too much momentum in healing, but we’ll come up with something else next time I need to go away.
In the meantime, Lex Valentine did a fabulous trailer for My Killer My Love, introducing me to a new favorite band, Chickenfoot. Black Opal Books has picked up my short contemporary romance (working title Teach Me To Forget), and we’ve had our first snow of the year. So there’s a lot more to share.
Trailer for My Killer My Love
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Mona Karel Author 