Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Is it the weather...
...or something else that's causing this rash of bad news?
My uncle emailed all of us yesterday to tell us our grandfather had a TIA on Monday evening. He and my grandmother were at a memorial Mass at their church celebrating their 60th anniversary. He became faint (and may have passed out, the email wasn't entirely clear). My grandmother stayed at Mass and went on to the reception in their honor; my aunt and uncle took my grandfather home, where he watched Monday Night Football.
But the next day they went to the doctor and found out that he hadn't simply become faint; he had suffered a mini-stroke. It seems that he's had, at the least, this one TIA, but possibly more, and he could be at risk for further instances or even a more life-threatening stroke.
This is all really frightening to me. My grandfather has always been a hero of a man—big, strapping, brave, gentle, wise, funny—all the things a grandfather should be. In recent years, he's become more and more frail, as the elderly will. More upsetting, his mind has begun to fail. Now I wonder if his loss of short-term memory and lack of attention span might not be the result of prior TIAs.
Not only am I frightened for my grandfather—for his health, his well-being, even his ego—I am also petrified for my grandmother. For all that she is the matriarch of the family, the one with the "master calendar," so to speak, she depends on my grandfather entirely. Not just for transportation (she hasn't driven since her knee replacement and Parkinson's diagnosis); not just for his common-sense ways (the purse strings and all that). She depends on him, I think, for her entire sense of self. I mean, good Lord, they've been married for 60 years! That's close to three-quarters of her entire life! When you spend that much time with someone, everything you do must start to revolve around them and your own identity get wrapped up in theirs.
I worry for my grandmother. She's far more frail physically than my grandfather, though definitely more compos mentis. But because he dotes on her and takes care of her, watches out for her, she is probably likely to live beyond him. The question is whether she'll want to or not; I can't answer that question.
We're supposed to have a big family reunion this weekend—correction, we will have a big family reunion this weekend—and the question is whether they'll make it into town for the event. We have to wait for the brain scans and other tests to come back before my grandfather can travel; my grandmother doesn't go anywhere without him. I am desperate to see them—they live too far away as it is, and I am often too busy to set aside a weekend to visit. I hope they can be here.
My uncle emailed all of us yesterday to tell us our grandfather had a TIA on Monday evening. He and my grandmother were at a memorial Mass at their church celebrating their 60th anniversary. He became faint (and may have passed out, the email wasn't entirely clear). My grandmother stayed at Mass and went on to the reception in their honor; my aunt and uncle took my grandfather home, where he watched Monday Night Football.
But the next day they went to the doctor and found out that he hadn't simply become faint; he had suffered a mini-stroke. It seems that he's had, at the least, this one TIA, but possibly more, and he could be at risk for further instances or even a more life-threatening stroke.
This is all really frightening to me. My grandfather has always been a hero of a man—big, strapping, brave, gentle, wise, funny—all the things a grandfather should be. In recent years, he's become more and more frail, as the elderly will. More upsetting, his mind has begun to fail. Now I wonder if his loss of short-term memory and lack of attention span might not be the result of prior TIAs.
Not only am I frightened for my grandfather—for his health, his well-being, even his ego—I am also petrified for my grandmother. For all that she is the matriarch of the family, the one with the "master calendar," so to speak, she depends on my grandfather entirely. Not just for transportation (she hasn't driven since her knee replacement and Parkinson's diagnosis); not just for his common-sense ways (the purse strings and all that). She depends on him, I think, for her entire sense of self. I mean, good Lord, they've been married for 60 years! That's close to three-quarters of her entire life! When you spend that much time with someone, everything you do must start to revolve around them and your own identity get wrapped up in theirs.
I worry for my grandmother. She's far more frail physically than my grandfather, though definitely more compos mentis. But because he dotes on her and takes care of her, watches out for her, she is probably likely to live beyond him. The question is whether she'll want to or not; I can't answer that question.
We're supposed to have a big family reunion this weekend—correction, we will have a big family reunion this weekend—and the question is whether they'll make it into town for the event. We have to wait for the brain scans and other tests to come back before my grandfather can travel; my grandmother doesn't go anywhere without him. I am desperate to see them—they live too far away as it is, and I am often too busy to set aside a weekend to visit. I hope they can be here.
