Part Two~
That night the real Helen, or should I say her alter-ego, the Screamin’ Demon (as in the terrifying roller coaster), emerged. It started when an aide abruptly turned on the light and spoke her name. Loudly.
She let out one bloodcurdling scream after another. No one could calm her down, and they pressed on with changing her, etc. Finally she began to yell for her Daddy, and did not stop till they put her in her chair and wheeled her out to the nurses’ station.
This went on night after night, sometimes she would throw things (like her teeth) at people; one night she hit me with her call bell, and began determinedly shaking my bed rail, all the while going through her family list (Grampaw, Gramaw, Daddy, Mommy) hoping someone would come to her aid.
In the end, they kept her by the nurses station all the time, unless she was in the dining hall, or at Bingo (a huge event here). They told me I could move, but they would not move her. So I ended up in the hospital. They moved her out while I was away. I found out later that she was quite a remarkable woman, speaking three languages, world-traveled, and a career woman! You just never know.
For if you remain completely silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise. . . from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. Yet who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Esther 4:14 NKJV
My next roommate was Kristine. She had her marbles and could see and hear, but she was in tremendous pain. Her first room had been my old one, and her old roomie would come to visit.
She joined me on a Tuesday, having very little appetite, great homesickness for her two cats, and a boyfriend named Phil. Kristine knew herself very well, and told us how she was far too selfish to ever have a child. Her health almost immediately took a nosedive, and I don’t believe she ever ate again. Oddly, she had cancer in her heart (and a DNR).
On Wednesday, I had them push our beds closer together, so I could hold her hand, and give her water when she wanted it, instead of calling an aide. Though the nurses were okay with it, the night aide threw a hissy fit and pulled the beds apart. Thursday they were moved a little closer, so I could reach her. By then she was in agony. Finally on Friday, she received liquid meds, but they didn’t help much; we all knew the end was near.
I pulled my wheelchair up next to her bed, held her hand, and read the beginning of Anne of Green Gables to her. Friends came in to visit and pray. I played her some gospel music, and began reading Scripture to her. I wished I could ask people to take their shoes off, because I KNEW we were on holy ground. As people finished their shifts, some came to say good-bye. Purification was running in the diffuser, prayers were going up from all over, including Australia! I sang Tender Shepherd from Peter Pan to her, and then sang along with some hymns. On the last few words of It Is Well with My Soul, she passed away. It was a good death. The part Cherokee nurse was glad to see the window open for her soul to depart.
Trece, are you still writing here on the blog? I know for me I have been terrible about it! Are you still in the nursing home? ANyway, I am just thinking of you and hoping you are well!