The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

While I was trying to scale my own personal mountain, H. and Figgy were scaling awesome Mt. Katahdin.

Good:

1. The rain. I like how it feels, how it sounds, how it looks and what it does. H. grew an amazing tomato this summer already, thanks in part to the rains. His tomato looks and tastes as good as the local heirloom tomatoes at Whole Foods. And it has that farmy, imperfect shape and color--nothing forced or cellophane-packed about it.
2. The very pretty granite remnant I found at the granite place for our new bathroom vanity at home. Its swirly, pebbly gray and white pattern reminds me of Maine's rocky coast. And because it's a remnant, it's also a steal compared to full price. 
3. Whole Foods in Paramus being open til 10, so I was able to stop in and get some healthy-ish foods on my way home from the hospital.
4. Call from my sister-in-law Therese in Maine today. She caught me on my cell at the FedEx store and told me she hopes things with Dad unfold as they should, and that she has come to realize that nature is a good teacher, showing us the beautiful way things grow and go in cycles. I was the woman crying by the door. She also gave me some ideas--bring ice cream to Dad, talk about fun things we did. I did both. Brought a Ben & Jerry's coffee shake [he only had a few sips] and talked about the barbecue pit he dug in the ground out back and the baby bird he tried to save by feeding with my dolly bottle. 
5. The hospital chapel, open all hours.
6. Generous friends and family--generous with their time, their laughter, their hearts, their compassion, their phone calls, their car. They know who they are.
7. H., Figgy, H.'s brothers Pat and Dave and Dave's teen son Will hiked to the top of Mount Katahdin in Maine today. They left Bangor about 4:30 A.M. to drive there and H. didn't get back to the parking lot till about 8 P.M. I think it takes 10 hours to go up and down that giant mountain. I spoke to Figgy after. It was really hard, but it was worth it, she said. The view from the summit was amazing. May her mountain-climbing power stand her in good stead. May her inner strength at [almost] 15 propel her forward in the right direction through life.

Bad: 

1. Dad still not up and walking. Still barely eating. Catch-22: If you don't eat, you won't get nourishment and have the strength to stand up. And if you can't stand, we can't let you even try walking. But it's a circle--how do you break in and win? Will you get the chance and seize it?
2. We still have to select a nursing home, worst of all. Sis and I hope Dad can leave by Monday but we really don't know.

Ugly:

1. Dad being in pain for hours this evening. He was moaning and groaning and highly uncomfortable. It's not like him to moan and groan. He was writhing in pain, pulling out the oxygen tube, trying to get his hospital gown off his shoulder. Ow, ooh, ow, he said over and over. First, the nurses thought changing the Depends and switching his position in bed would help. But it didn't. He has a bed sore and a rash and also feels penned in that bed after more than three weeks. Finally, I asked them to give him a painkiller, but it took about an hour to work. This was agonizing. I felt helpless. I kept trying. He asked me again and again to fix the pillow at his head, move the one under his feet. Observing someone I love in pain made me think of how men must feel when they have to stand by and let their women do the work of giving birth. It also made me think of my Dad's mother and how she would feel about this, her baby boy. Can she see from heaven, do you think? And I remembered that book Death Be Not Proud, written by John Gunther about his teenage son Johnny, who died of a brain tumor at 17. Johnny's parents surely went through some of this.
2. Seeing a hint of a bad side in someone you only want to see good in. I only want to see good in his nurses, not someone "joking" with my Dad that he must say the magic word to get another spoonful of God-awful hospital mashed potatoes and reconstituted chicken. Hey, this is a man who loved food all his life. Can't he have some dignity? It made me feel bad. It was as though we were off-stage, not in the middle of a real-life drama, and she was interpreting things for me, the audience, from stage left. He's like a baby, she said. But I feel bad even typing this, because I know that Dad's well-being is in the nurses' hands much of the time, and this may somehow jinx him.

Let me sleep on it.

The beautiful image above is from Everett Potter's Travel Report website. Here's the link: http://www.everettpotter.com/blog/2010/06/steve-jermanoks-active-travels-mt-katahdin-maine.html.