The girls and I would go eat dinner with my mom and Nana once a week, right now on Tuesdays. Because of how Valentine's Day fell, we celebrated a little early. The Friday before that, Nana had a doctor's appointment, just routine, but she was nervous about it. She had developed a general anxiety over the past few years and was being treated for it. She also had dementia which was progressing slowly. She stopped driving (a good thing) and gradually allowed my mom to take over things like cleaning and cooking. But aside from some arthritis, and the gradually worsening dementia, she was pretty much herself.
Sometime over the weekend, after her appointment on Friday and before we came to visit on Tuesday, she hurt her knee. I don't know how, but when we came to visit, she was in bed. My mom said she'd been in bed for at least a day because her knee hurt so badly. We went over anyway, and had dinner, and shared our little Valentine goodies with the girls. We went back and forth from living room to bedroom to visit with Nana, too, and she seemed like herself for the most part.
When it was time for us to go home for the evening, we all went back and told Nana bye and good night. I joked with her that next week when we came she'd be feeling better and tap-dancing for the girls. She laughed. But something struck me, and I was so upset all the way home. I just knew something was wrong. I looked at her in that bed and it was like she was in the hospital. I told myself I was just being negative, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and cried most of the way home.
The next day, my mom called me and said Nana had to be taken to the emergency room. The two neighbor ladies who'd been coming over to help take care of the dog for my grandmother had found her in such a state of panic that they could not help her. They insisted my mom call the paramedics, which of course she did. The paramedics could barely get her out of the door--my mom said she was gripping the door jamb so hard her knuckles were white and they had to pry her hands off one finger at a time. She was hysterical and afraid she was falling.
As soon as my husband got home, I went to the hospital. Nana was still in the ER with my mom. They had given her some medication to calm her so she was sleeping. My aunt arrived from 3 hours north. My other aunt was out of town on vacation but was keeping in touch. At one point Nana woke up and I saw just how hysterical and panicked she was. We all thought she'd had a stroke. Her speech was slurred and almost impossible to understand, but she knew us all. She addressed all of us by name. They scheduled an MRI and checked for various infections and things. They ran a lot of tests. She was moved to a room where she stayed for the weekend. She remained in a state of general panic almost the entire time. She slept very little and ate almost nothing. Finally they discharged her to rehab because they could find nothing "wrong" with her.
One time a nurse was in the room to try to feed her while I was there. Nana was being rather cooperative but not making a lot of sense. The nurse asked me, "Oh, so this is her baseline?" as if this was as good as she had always been. I said, "No! This is the best she's been, that I've seen, since this episode happened, but she was much better than this." And I told them.
She moved to the rehab facility on Saturday, Valentine's Day. We were able to get her into one that was very close to my mom's house and close to mine as well. About halfway between. Once she arrived, she did calm down somewhat. Moving her was difficult, but she liked the young guys who drove the ambulance. She was very upset on the way though, so they put her on oxygen, which she remained on for about a day at rehab.
My aunt who had been on vacation had a terrible time getting back home because of bad weather and snowstorms, but she finally made it. She did see Nana in her panic state a little, but after she arrived, Nana seemed to calm down a lot. However, she never did regain most of her mental faculties. She knew all of us, even my brother's fiancee, my dad (my parents are divorced), and friends from church. She confused the names of some of the staff at the center, though, and sometimes referred to me as her daughter, but she got our names right and knew us when she saw us.
Gradually she improved and was able to feed herself and get around a little in a wheelchair. She had never used a wheelchair before the episode. They were wonderful at the rehab center, and she was able to stay there after her rehab finished. The week before Palm Sunday, we finally took Karina and Elena to see her. She was so happy to see them, and Karina especially was happy to see her. We ended up staying a lot longer than I had thought we would. We hadn't taken the girls to see her at first, because we weren't sure how it would affect them to see Nana suddenly in a wheelchair and not making any sense. She often talked about things that weren't there, people long dead, or just general nonsense. It was Sunday when Bill and I took the girls to see her. We stayed very late and the girls hadn't even had lunch but they didn't want to leave. Finally Elena was getting too restless, so we did leave. Karina was ecstatic that she could now come back to visit Nana with me.
On Wednesday, March 25, I went to see her alone. I went a little later than I had been going, because I stayed to fix the girls' dinner. I had been going as soon as Bill got home from work. This day I was later, and I almost drove right past and went to my mom's instead because I was really upset and cried all the way there. But I did go. Nana was in bed at 6pm already, and she said she had a lot of pain that day, knees hurt, etc. Arthritis. I just sat with her like I usually did and we talked, though she wasn't making much sense. She asked if I'd been crying. Fortunately I didn't have to lie. The girls had just gotten a new movie, "Tinkerbell and the Legend of the Neverbeast" and it made me cry at the end (this was also the reason I was late that day; we were watching the movie). So I told Nan that's what it was. But I think she knew. The TV was on playing "Walker, Texas Ranger." I made fun of it and joked a little and we talked. Around 7 I left. I called my mom to update her, as usual. She had been out there that day too, around 2, and Nana was in bed then, too. The staff said she'd just had a really bad day and was in a lot of pain. She complained to my mom a lot that day. Sunday, March 29, Palm Sunday, Karina had her first communion. I took her to see Nana with me after church. When we got there she was by the nurses' station sleeping in her wheelchair . We put her cupcake in her room and then went back to see if she was going to wake up. She did, a little. She remembered Karina had first communion, and we moved her over to a little sitting area to visit. But she kept falling asleep, so I finally just told her we were going to go because she was tired and sleeping but I'd be back that week again.
I told my mom what had happened. Monday, the next day, Mom went to see her. She was in bed and the staff said she had a fever and some infection somewhere. She was on oxygen just for comfort. They asked about her advance directive to be sure of it, because the doctor wanted to admit her to the hospital and run gobs of tests. Nana never wanted that, so instead they put her on IV antibiotics. The next morning her fever was gone. That afternoon, when Mom talked to the staff, they suggested she contact Hospice to have Nana evaluated. Mom asked if it could wait until after Easter, and they said, no, go home and call them today. At 4am on April 1st, I got a phone call from the convalescent center because they couldn't get through on Mom's cell phone. Nana had died. That's how fast this all happened.
The MRI had not found any evidence of stroke and we still don't know what happened.
Some weird things happened the week Nana got sick. There was some really bad weather, including a big snowstorm that I mentioned which kept my aunt from getting here when Nana was in the hospital. But it's even weirder. All of the following things in Mom and Nana's house broke: the TV, landline phone, microwave, stove, Mom's alarm clock, Mom's cell phone, and a teacup bird feeder outside. Plus the electric teakettle Nana gave me for Christmas a few years ago also broke and the George Foreman grill she gave me. All in the same week. That's just weird.
We had a memorial service for her on the 16th of this month. She died April 1st. I think she was waiting to see the girls one more time.
It has been a really rough time. I was very close to my grandmother. We moved in with my grandparents when I was about 6 or 7. It's her house we go to every week when we eat dinner with my mom, although it will become my mom's house legally.
Nana was a huge part of my life. I remember one time in particular when I was sick with some stomach bug. My stomach hurt so bad, and I was just sobbing while my mom got ready to take me to the doctor. Nana sat on the couch next to me and rocked me, and it helped me calm down so I didn't hurt so bad. She used to sing what we called the Honey Song to me. She helped me find my first apartment after I got divorced from my first husband. She supported my choice to use formula with my daughters. No one else could do that without "discussing" breastfeeding with me. Nana never questioned me. My middle name is her maiden, Scottish name. Karina shares it as well as my cousin. She was one of the bravest people I knew. She met my grandfather during the war, went on three dates with him and married him. She came here alone, on the Queen Mary, when she was 19 to be with him after they had married in Scotland when she was 18 and he was 24. She didn't go home for many years.
Nana had three children, 7 grandchildren, and 4 great-grandchildren, one of whom she had not met yet. Another one is arriving this fall. She was the last of her 11 brothers and sisters to die. Her younger sister Moira passed away just last year, only a few months before Nana.
I miss her every day. I always will.
