I belong to a Creative Writing Group -this was a recent story of growing old /the assignment was to write a story for AARP or an ageing population ;but it turned out a little depressing ........I never know until the end where a story will go:
He went into the hospital complaining of his toes. They hurt. They were turning black. The Doctors ordered a test. Results showed a funny blockage in his groin. It was causing the blood to flow somewhere other than his toes. So they operated. Guess what? The old man was really hurting and this did the trick –pink piggy toes. Everyone was Happy, especially his 85 year old wife. His long suffering wife to this brilliant, devout Episcopalian, cruel alcoholic, mentally abusive misogynist.
But in his good days –ah those good days –he was deserving of God’s Grace and Wanda’s love.
Two weeks later he is taken back to the hospital in pain. They do another procedure thru the femoral artery to see if another blockage has occurred or can they widen his 85 year old veins to help the blood flow. Nothing was accomplished. They sent him home. Unfortunately, he was hallucinating and it wasn’t the confusion of the anesthesia. It was a weird reaction to the pain medicine. His 85 year old wife was not able to talk with the Doctor since he was released to his #2 son. Getting him into the house he collapsed on the #2 son and cut his finger. #3 son finally arrives. Together get him into the house. It was chaos and bloody.
In the middle of the night he is awake on the phone with a telephone supervisor trying to get her to tell him where these people are holding him, he doesn’t know his bride and calls her the ‘face’. She calls the #2 son in the middle of the night and he drives the 20 min. back to their house. He talks sweet to him and gets some calm response. But the ‘face’ can no longer be within his sight. #3 son takes the next shift and reads out loud from a condensed story. The old man dozes. They have to watch him –two days and he is still hallucinating. They get him to use the urinal. He puts in his finger and pees on the floor. The old woman will have to clean it up but maybe she can finally get rid of the rug in that room. She laughs.
The discharge, follow up nurse calls from the hospital to see how he is doing. The old woman tells her and the nurse says; oh he must be having a reaction you should have brought him back. The old woman screams inside her head –Why did you send him home so soon?. The nurse continues to talk; this doesn’t happen with same day procedures. The old woman is tired. Her sons have heard the verbal abuse he has heaped on her for years and are in denial, blaming the vitriol tirade on the medicine. #1 son calls and the old Lady asked him to take turns with his brothers.
On a long distance phone call to the daughter of her heart, the old Lady says she is grateful to her sons The old man actually was able to use the walker to get to the bathroom –but his grown grandchildren, trying to help, got marching orders to leave him alone. I wonder if they are even thinking of leaving her alone with the old man. I worry. I tell her to make sure she sleeps with a knife under her pillow and call 911 if she needs help. He is still so strong and violent when he is not in control of himself and the world. She says she knows he hates her and maybe never EVER Loved her. I tell her NO –he did Love you –but he is tripping and sick.
I wonder how this will all end.
So many grandchildren and great grandchildren the three sons have given the family. Does anyone just hold her? Is this what a lifetime of love mixed with abuse looks like? She cant remember the good times anymore. She just want to take her Prozac and tune him out. I want to rescue her , but she will not leave him. For better or worse ; In sickness or in Health.
Their generation really take those words to heart.
Because in his good days –ah his good days –He is deserving of Wanda’s Grace and God’s Love.......... and .......I guess, mine too.
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