Cattapilla said:

My story is about Gratitude – Condensed

It’s about my sister who on July 5th, 2018 became septic and admitted to the hospital and ICU with double pneumonia. The sepsis reached her heart and infected the valves. Without the pneumonia resolving, she would die if they did the heart surgery. Without the heart surgery, she would die anyway. Her heart was being weighed by a Goddess, but I was calling all the shots from down here, working with the ICU team. The pneumonia resolved, her heart surgery was a success. All systems failed anyway. She was in the ICU for 30 days with renal failure, among other things, then transferred to another acute hospital for dialysis. Because she had been down so long, she could no longer use her arms or legs. All told, she was hospitalized over 7 months and would have to relearn to walk again. I am so grateful.

It’s about me, hearing she had been admitted to the ICU two days later because her friends didn’t want to tell our family because on the way to the ER she told them not to, because we would worry. Packing, I drove the 8 hours to be there and called my boss on the way down. I wanted to be there for her. Talk to her, love her, and make her know I was there. It isn't the only thing you can do. It's the only thing that matters. While she was intubated and medicated so she wouldn’t yank it out, I would watch for signs, and talk to her and tell her what was going on. Her brows would waver when she heard my voice, when she could not move anything else. Her hand would tighten when I began to pull away. The heart rate monitor would get lively. I earned some silver streaks in my hair where I never had it before. I was so grateful.

It’s about a great man I worked for, that said to me, “Go be with your sister, and we’ll figure everything out.” While I was with my sister, he was paying me from July to September to be with her. Then he retired and I was laid off, and went on unemployment to stay where I needed to be. He made it as easy for me as he could. He actually made it happen.

It’s about my 84 year old momma with Alzheimer’s who was sick of her fucking, horrible, twisted life. She was well into it. On a clear minded day after a fun visit with her sister and my dad, whom she recognized, on September 4th, 2018, she disappeared from her life by running away and hiding. She had never done it before. LAPD helicopters combed the desert day and night along with ground patrol, my family and neighbors. I was with my sister in the hospital when my dad called to say he lost my mom. I am grateful I was with her so we could be together that night. And I do not know if I could have searched with the rest of my family on foot in that desert neighborhood for my mom. Because what if I found her dead. What if I found her alive, and she didn’t want to be found. They did find her the next day, a neighbor did, in his shed a few houses away. We don’t know when she died. Waiting 24 hours for a lost mom in the desert was a hard thing. I was so grateful it didn’t go on for days. She was one of the best things in my life. My mother’s eyes were blue.

In the months that followed, many miracles occurred. No more dialysis, no more diabetes, no more complete immobility. We worked with her to move again. Starting with fingers. She was transferred to a state-of-the-art rehab center and we made her move her toes and sit up and roll over. Those three months were hellish and brutal and effective. On February 25, 2019 they called me and told me she was ready to be discharged. If she did not have a 24/7 caregiver, she’d have to go to a convalescent hospital. I had made all the surgical/drug/life-saving decisions for her the entire time. They expected one more thing from me. I am grateful that they knew me well enough at that time to think I was up for the difficult months ahead.

I packed for a long stay. My dad took my cats. I took my sister to her home March 1st of last year, and in 4 months, we learned how to get her house organized for someone that could barely get out of her wheelchair and use a walker. We shared her king sized bed. I bathed her, dressed her, got her up, put her to bed, and another million things, and we powered through everything and made it happen. We put together 37 puzzles for small motor control. I sang with her when her voice was wrecked until she could sing again. She can walk blocks now with her walker, she can sit in cars and go places again, she has her life back entirely, and she’ll walk again. I’m grateful we bonded even more instead of becoming mortal enemies.

Last July, I picked up my cats and went home. My house had sat there empty and cold for all those months. No plant was alive but a few things outdoors my neighbor sprayed with a hose. After one more trip down in October for 10 days to care for her while her caregiver was on vacation, I was home again until Christmas. I had made the drive 11 times, and put over 10k miles on my new car. I was unemployed. My world had changed entirely. I was grateful to be home, and had no idea what to do next.

No surprise, I decided that I might like to do something simple, like tend some orchids and grow a little weed, and chill. Sit around. Mourn a bit. We missed everything about my mom’s cremation or service. So I retired in November at 62, drank a lot of wine with a friend from Utah, and found some THCFarmer people to hang with that had their own gardens and stories, and grow weed until I figure out what I want to do next. Again, so grateful. I just got my first SS check in January! And now the tale is told. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m still working it all out. Story for Story.

Click to expand...

Cattapilla said:

My story is about Gratitude – Condensed

It’s about my sister who on July 5th, 2018 became septic and admitted to the hospital and ICU with double pneumonia. The sepsis reached her heart and infected the valves. Without the pneumonia resolving, she would die if they did the heart surgery. Without the heart surgery, she would die anyway. Her heart was being weighed by a Goddess, but I was calling all the shots from down here, working with the ICU team. The pneumonia resolved, her heart surgery was a success. All systems failed anyway. She was in the ICU for 30 days with renal failure, among other things, then transferred to another acute hospital for dialysis. Because she had been down so long, she could no longer use her arms or legs. All told, she was hospitalized over 7 months and would have to relearn to walk again. I am so grateful.

It’s about me, hearing she had been admitted to the ICU two days later because her friends didn’t want to tell our family because on the way to the ER she told them not to, because we would worry. Packing, I drove the 8 hours to be there and called my boss on the way down. I wanted to be there for her. Talk to her, love her, and make her know I was there. It isn't the only thing you can do. It's the only thing that matters. While she was intubated and medicated so she wouldn’t yank it out, I would watch for signs, and talk to her and tell her what was going on. Her brows would waver when she heard my voice, when she could not move anything else. Her hand would tighten when I began to pull away. The heart rate monitor would get lively. I earned some silver streaks in my hair where I never had it before. I was so grateful.

It’s about a great man I worked for, that said to me, “Go be with your sister, and we’ll figure everything out.” While I was with my sister, he was paying me from July to September to be with her. Then he retired and I was laid off, and went on unemployment to stay where I needed to be. He made it as easy for me as he could. He actually made it happen.

It’s about my 84 year old momma with Alzheimer’s who was sick of her fucking, horrible, twisted life. She was well into it. On a clear minded day after a fun visit with her sister and my dad, whom she recognized, on September 4th, 2018, she disappeared from her life by running away and hiding. She had never done it before. LAPD helicopters combed the desert day and night along with ground patrol, my family and neighbors. I was with my sister in the hospital when my dad called to say he lost my mom. I am grateful I was with her so we could be together that night. And I do not know if I could have searched with the rest of my family on foot in that desert neighborhood for my mom. Because what if I found her dead. What if I found her alive, and she didn’t want to be found. They did find her the next day, a neighbor did, in his shed a few houses away. We don’t know when she died. Waiting 24 hours for a lost mom in the desert was a hard thing. I was so grateful it didn’t go on for days. She was one of the best things in my life. My mother’s eyes were blue.

In the months that followed, many miracles occurred. No more dialysis, no more diabetes, no more complete immobility. We worked with her to move again. Starting with fingers. She was transferred to a state-of-the-art rehab center and we made her move her toes and sit up and roll over. Those three months were hellish and brutal and effective. On February 25, 2019 they called me and told me she was ready to be discharged. If she did not have a 24/7 caregiver, she’d have to go to a convalescent hospital. I had made all the surgical/drug/life-saving decisions for her the entire time. They expected one more thing from me. I am grateful that they knew me well enough at that time to think I was up for the difficult months ahead.

I packed for a long stay. My dad took my cats. I took my sister to her home March 1st of last year, and in 4 months, we learned how to get her house organized for someone that could barely get out of her wheelchair and use a walker. We shared her king sized bed. I bathed her, dressed her, got her up, put her to bed, and another million things, and we powered through everything and made it happen. We put together 37 puzzles for small motor control. I sang with her when her voice was wrecked until she could sing again. She can walk blocks now with her walker, she can sit in cars and go places again, she has her life back entirely, and she’ll walk again. I’m grateful we bonded even more instead of becoming mortal enemies.

Last July, I picked up my cats and went home. My house had sat there empty and cold for all those months. No plant was alive but a few things outdoors my neighbor sprayed with a hose. After one more trip down in October for 10 days to care for her while her caregiver was on vacation, I was home again until Christmas. I had made the drive 11 times, and put over 10k miles on my new car. I was unemployed. My world had changed entirely. I was grateful to be home, and had no idea what to do next.

No surprise, I decided that I might like to do something simple, like tend some orchids and grow a little weed, and chill. Sit around. Mourn a bit. We missed everything about my mom’s cremation or service. So I retired in November at 62, drank a lot of wine with a friend from Utah, and found some THCFarmer people to hang with that had their own gardens and stories, and grow weed until I figure out what I want to do next. Again, so grateful. I just got my first SS check in January! And now the tale is told. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m still working it all out. Story for Story.

Click to expand...