A Storied Life
Page 24
With my grandmother ten feet away, I had the hope of a someone in my life. The night grew long and at some point, Gram let Uncle Jeff and Aunt Tammy take her home. The party continued, a relief from the pent-up sadness. We danced and laughed and ate and drank.
Chapter Twenty
It took a while to differentiate between a dream and the ringing phone. Yanked out of a delicious romp with Reagan, I threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, while the object of said dream turned over. I hoped the phone wouldn’t wake him. Neither of us had slept much. I couldn't remember where I'd left my cell phone. The abrupt change of pace in the darkened room shot adrenaline through me.
With each ring, I heard it shriek “answer me before it's too late.” I didn't know who would call this early. I traced it to the couch and answered before the last ring finished.
“Hello,” I said, wincing at the sound of my scratchy voice. That's what they deserved, calling before normal waking hours. I glanced at the clock above the TV and saw it was a few minutes after six. I didn't want it to be anything serious but if it wasn't, I planned on killing whomever was on the other side of the phone.
Uncle Jeff's brisk voice filled my ear. “Olivia, sorry to wake you up.”
My mind tried to make connections. “Uncle Jeff? What’s wrong?”
“Your aunt and I stayed over with Gram last night. She was pretty worn out from the party and almost too tired to walk inside. I had to support her on one side and Tammy on the other. I don't feel comfortable leaving her by herself today but we both need to be getting ready for work...” His voice trailed off, leaving me to pick up on the implication. We both stayed silent as I worked it out.
“You want me to stay with Gram today?” I asked, knowing this was not a polite request. As Gram's “voice of reason,” this was the exact scenario she'd predicted back in April.
“I'm sure she's fine. She's not used to that much excitement anymore and she'll probably need a day or two to recover. I'd stay if I could but you know how things are at the bank. Some important meetings scheduled today and all.”
Yes, I thought, tamping down my frustration. I knew how things were at the almighty bank and that my work didn't enter into his equation. I wondered if it was too early to call Suzy and let her know she'd be on her own the next day or two. I rubbed my eyes. Definitely too early.
“I'll have to make a few phone calls. How soon do you need to leave for work? I'd like to at least shower before driving out.”
“That's fine, that's fine. You're a lifesaver, Olivia. Tammy went home to get ready and then she's coming back to switch out with me. We both need to be into work by seven-thirty at the latest.”
Already half gone, I tucked the phone under my ear as I darted into my closet to start packing clothes as quietly as I could, mindful of the man sleeping in my bed. “Is Gram awake yet?”
“No, I haven't heard her stirring. If you'd seen her when we got home last night, you'd understand.”
“I'm not questioning you. I might see if Justin can move up his regular afternoon visit to sometime this morning. Just to see if anything else has changed.”
I hadn't emailed everyone about Justin’s latest assessment. I'd wanted us to focus on her birthday, instead of letting news of her slowing body dampen the festivities. Gram hadn't told anyone either. Justin could visit and then I would send out the update.
I hung up the phone, then sank down on to the couch for a minute. The sun had risen and it looked like a beautiful day. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to enjoy it.
* * *
Justin adjusted his schedule and arrived at Gram's around nine-thirty. She remained asleep, none the wiser about my presence. One cup of tea hadn't settled my nerves so I'd set about making almond scones. The mixing, rolling, and cutting centered me. The scent of almond filling the house didn't hurt either. I hoped the aroma might tickle Gram awake but she didn't stir.
As I greeted Justin at the door, another car pulled up in front of the house. It was Cassie, the social worker.
“Did you tell Cassie to come this morning?” I asked, puzzled. Maybe they were doing joint visits today.
“No, I didn't,” Justin said, looking back at Cassie's car. “She must have had a visit already scheduled with Ella May. Is that going to bother you, having both of us here?”
“No, it's fine. Come on in.” I opened the door wider so he could slip past me. His cologne and confident manner offered reassurance. “Gram's still sleeping. She doesn't know I'm here. I'm a little worried she hasn't gotten up to use the bathroom but I haven't tried too hard to wake her up. She used to lecture us about how she needs her beauty rest. You're welcome to try.”
“I'll head up there and make a bit of noise. We'll see what happens.” Justin went upstairs, while I waited for Cassie. I idly remembered the effect Justin had had on me the first time we'd met. He was more like a brother to me now.
“Olivia, what a nice surprise,” Cassie called out as she walked up the sidewalk. I grimaced. I liked talking with Cassie but not under these circumstances.
I waited to reply until she reached the porch. “I wish it was a better surprise. Gram's birthday party was last night and it apparently wore her out. My aunt and uncle ended up sleeping over and asked me to take their place today, until she gets her bearings again. I didn't realize you were coming this morning.”
An imperceptible change skittered across her expression. “Oh. Your grandmother was going to tell me about some of her early volunteer work but I guess we'll see if she's up to it. It's still nice to see you again.”
“You too, Cassie. Justin is with Gram. Maybe you can visit when he's done? I just pulled scones out of the oven if you want one. Baking is a nervous habit of mine.”
I strained to hear voices from upstairs as I led Cassie toward the kitchen. Nothing. I set out three plates and brought down two more mugs.
“Coffee or tea?” I'd already made coffee for Justin, as thanks for rearranging his day. I busied myself with the scones.
“Coffee would be great. Can I do anything to help?”
“Oh no, please sit down. It helps to have a distraction.” I put the coffee carafe down and turned to her. “I'm worried about her, Cassie. She's been so different the last several weeks and she's never stayed in bed this long.” I couldn't complete the thought.
“Let's take it one thing at a time for now. We can talk to Justin when he's done and figure out what we're dealing with then. How you feel is normal, but this could be an off day or maybe she partied too hard last night. I've heard she's quite the entertainer.”
I chuckled and shared Gram's party philosophy.
“Anything she did in connection with the bank was formal and sophisticated but the rest of her entertaining is an art form. It was never enough to have a party. She always came up with the perfect theme or figured out some signature item that kept people talking for months.”
I scrolled through memories of her more infamous to-dos, as I slid a scone and coffee before Cassie. “My grandparents started a neighborhood block party decades ago and everyone still talks about the year they had everyone dress up like it was the Roaring 20s and they served a cocktail called Geneva Delight. I still can’t believe they convinced everyone to dress up for a block party! Oh, and then there’s this story. Gram has been in a book club for decades and they all take turns hosting. A few years ago, Gram decided to serve rum balls for some reason. She hadn't made that particular recipe before and wound up using rum with a really high proof. The book club ladies ate them like hotcakes and suddenly the discussion was much more interesting than usual.”
Cassie and I both laughed. I sat down across from her and picked my scone apart. We talked about Gram's birthday party and how I was coping but I kept my eye trained on the door each minute that passed. Justin couldn't come downstairs fast enough for my liking.
Finally, he joined us in the kitchen. I slid a plate toward him and gestured toward the coffee.
“Please help yoursel
f,” I said. I tapped my foot while I waited for his assessment.
Justin talked while he poured. “I did get your grandmother to wake up for me. She kept falling back asleep, even while I was taking her vitals. She told me she was in pain, a seven, so I set her up with her next dose. Since she's been in bed since nine last night, she missed at least this morning's dose and she couldn't remember if she'd taken anything when she got home.” None of this was unexpected.
He continued. “She was incontinent, which embarrassed her. But I got her cleaned up. You should probably wake her up every couple of hours and have her go to the bathroom. I'm going to leave some pads that she can sleep on, in case of any other accidents. Now, her blood pressure was a little low but that's not necessarily unusual since she's been in bed all this time.”
I nodded understanding and tried not to run down too many freaked out rabbit trails. I could only imagine Gram's mortification over wetting herself. Justin sat down in the chair across from me and looked directly in to my eyes. The compassion frightened me.
“If not for the last few weeks, I'd be tempted to chalk this up to an exciting night and see how she's feeling tomorrow. We have to take the last few weeks into account, though. She's eating way less, sleeping more, and her energy has deteriorated. She's grieving her daughter and that plays into the overall picture. I have to be honest, Olivia, and tell you I think she's starting to decline.”
I pushed my plate away and stared at my trembling hands. I grasped for something to say, something that wouldn't make me cry. “But. I thought. What do you mean? Like, she's dying now?”
Cassie scooted her chair next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. I looked at her for reassurance. Was this really the end for Gram, a birthday party one night and gone the next? Cassie tried to convey hope but ultimately deferred to Justin's judgment.
Justin's melancholy expression marred his model looks, yet humanized him. This had to be the worst part of his job. He flipped through the pages on his clipboard and tugged out a pamphlet.
“She's not actively dying. I want you to read through this when you get a chance. You can show it to the rest of the family if they want to learn more. This will walk you through the changes you might notice in the coming weeks. This is a suggestion though, not a blueprint. No two deaths look the same, but these are the common signs and symptoms of a person in decline.” He passed the pamphlet to me. Signs and Symptoms of Dying, the title read. It was simple and clinical, laying it out for the common man. This was still my grandmother, though, and there was nothing simple or clinical about that.
“You said in the coming weeks. We still have more time?” I grasped for some kind of upside.
“I can't say for sure. Like I said, every person is different. Ella May might bounce back if she's recovering from the party. We'll keep an eye on her the next few days and see what happens.”
“I get that you want to hedge your bets but my family is going to want to know specifics. Do you have any guesses about how much longer we'll have?” I steeled myself for his answer.
Justin looked up at the ceiling as he considered this. “I'd say we're looking more at days to weeks, than weeks to months. Like I said, we'll know more in the next couple of days. For right now, it's important that she not be left alone.”
“Of course. I'll figure something out,” I responded. I wouldn't have felt right leaving her.
“Charlene visited on Tuesday. I'm going to see if she can stop by today or tomorrow. Then starting next week we'll have her come at least twice a week, if not three times,” Justin added, referring to the nurse’s aide. “I'll tell her to go over some of her tips and tricks with you. I had Ella May stand up for me briefly and she was relatively stable but I'm not sure we can expect her to stand and walk much longer.” He cautioned me, “I don't want you to worry about this anymore than you already are. We're going to be with you every step of the way. One change at a time, one day at a time, whatever it takes.”
I nodded numbly. There was so much to consider.
Cassie broke in. “I think it would be good if we talked about caregiving. Right now, you're going to do what you have to do for the next few days but we need to look at the big picture down the road. Are you going to have your family help out, do you want to hire someone to stay here, or are you going to do this all on your own? I want you to start thinking about the answers to those questions.”
My brain fired in all directions and I didn't know where to start first. “I need to talk to Gram and my assistant before I can think past this week. I'm pretty sure my family will visit but I don't know if they'll want to stay here with Gram or if she’d want them to. They'll say it's my responsibility since I'm her POA.”
Cassie corrected me. “Being her POA doesn't mean the caregiving burden falls solely on you. Remember our conversations on self-care? Even if you stay here the majority of the time, it's crucial for you to take breaks. I don't want to alarm you, but taking care of someone is demanding physically, emotionally, and mentally. We need to set you up for success so you don’t burn out or hurt yourself.”
She made sense, but my family's predictable response would be nothing less than passive aggressive washing their hands of me. They'd be involved, but not in Gram's physical care. I'd accepted that the day I signed the POA paperwork.
“How much care does Gram need right now? Is she allowed to walk?” The last thing we needed was another fall.
“Today she'll probably rest. It would be a good idea if someone stayed with her while she gets up, just to be safe. She should be fine walking to and from the bathroom but don't let her try the stairs. I don't think she has the strength for that,” Justin replied. He briefly discussed how Gram's limitations would progress. “Like I said, we'll go over this as things happen. For today, Charlene will come out. I'll make you my first stop tomorrow morning and we'll reassess.”
“This is a lot to take in,” I said in a daze. From the heights of last night's party to the reality check of Gram still in bed, I barely knew what to process first.
“You're going to get through this, Olivia. You're stronger than you realize,” Cassie told me.
I hoped so.
* * *
I tiptoed into Gram's room. She lay in her bed, gently curled on her side. The trace of a smile on her lips indicated a good dream. She was the picture of peace. I left the door ajar, hoping I'd hear her if she stirred. I paced the hallway, unsure if I should go back to the kitchen or set up camp in one of the guest rooms so I'd be closer.
I didn't want to disturb her with my phone calls, so to the kitchen I went. I tapped my phone while I decided who to call first.
“Madison Gallery, this is Suzy,” my assistant's voice filled my ear.
“It's your favorite boss,” I told her.
“Olivia, what's going on? Is your grandmother all right? We've been worried about you,” she cried.
“I don't one hundred percent know what's going on yet, but the hospice nurse came out. I'm going to be staying here for at least the next few days, if not longer. The nurse said,” I hesitated to say the words out loud. “The nurse said Gram is probably declining. And we might…we might have only days to weeks left with her.” There. I’d said it.
Suzy gasped. I remained clear-eyed and stoic. I would need to stay that way through the next few phone calls.
“I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. What can I do? How can we help you? I don't want you to even think about the gallery for one second. You're exactly where you need to be,” Suzy said. I took a deep breath in acknowledgment.
“I know. Thank you. Let's look through the schedule for the next couple of weeks. I hate that this is happening right now of all times.” The next exhibit was a few weeks away.
“Stop it, O. Like there'd be a good time for this to happen? We'll make it work. If you're here, you're here. If not, then be glad this isn't my first dance at the rodeo,” Suzy said.
I cracked up. “Is that even a saying?”
“It should
be,” she retorted. “Let's figure out what we can do so you have some peace of mind. You've taught me well, you know.”
I did know and that was why the thought of turning the gallery over to her care didn't make me feel like clawing my eyes out. We went over logistics and the usual exhibit checklists. I hung up confident in her ability to make it all happen, even if guilt lingered.
I debated calling Mom or one of my uncles. I didn't have enough information to go on, at least not until Gram woke up. Uncle Jeff would call or stop back by the house to check in. I could wait until I heard from him.
I needed to fill Reagan in and a soft smile appeared as I thought of how he’d sleepily told me to let him know how Gram was before he rolled back over in bed before I left my place. But first, I wanted my best friend. I crossed my fingers that Kristy would actually answer the phone.
“What's up, Livvie,” she squealed. “How was the party last night?”
Her infectious enthusiasm took me aback. I wished the party was the only thing we would talk about.
“Oh, good.” I searched for a way to segue, but I didn't need to.
“Oh, no. I can tell something’s wrong,” she announced. “Was your family awful last night?”
“No, they were actually pretty great. Gram loved the party and everyone had a good time. But there's been a change. Uncle Jeff called me early this morning to say Gram was weak and exhausted last night. In fact, she's still in bed. He didn't want her to be alone today so I'm in Geneva for at least the next few days. Or maybe the next few weeks. The hospice nurse seems to think this could be the beginning of the end.”
A sharp intake of breath. I could hear Kristy swallowing through the phone, trying not to cry in front of me. “Oh, honey,” she said softly, before adopting a more businesslike tone. “Here's what I'm going to do. I'm dropping Reid off with my in-laws and then I'm coming to you.”