Suffocating

Hello all. Usually you probably come here to read about Gabby and Lilly or perhaps some clever idea I'm sharing. If only that is where my mind was tonight. The past week has been brutal. As I mentioned a few days ago, my grandmother, who I call Nanny, suffered a massive stroke one week ago. And as any of you who have gone through a situation like this know, it takes its toll on everyone. Depending on whether you know me personally or not, you might know that I'm the super-strong, I'm not gonna cry, go into action, research like crazy, bargain with God, convince myself I'm in control of some part of the situation, cry on my husband's shoulder late at night kind of girl. Needless to say, as I sit her to write I feel like I'm suffocating inside. And the only way I know to get any air is to write. I'm reminded of some catchy, mildy popular song recently with the lyrics, "If I get it all down on paper, its no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to." So with that, I'm going to get back to breathing.

A Little Bit About Nanny

I can best describe Nanny as 'my Nanny.' For as long as I can rememer, everyone tells me that I used to cry out for her upon leaving or visitng her "My Nanny! My Nanny! My Nanny!" And although at some point I stopped actually saying it outloud, right up until the weekend before this happened, I was still crying out "My Nanny" in some way. I can't even really begin to describe how close to her I am. (Can someone please tell me what the p.c. verb tense is when a person suffers something like this and may or may not return to who they were before hand?!? I'm so unbelievably tired of saying 'Nanny was...is...will be...is..." Its enough to drive anyone nuts.) She's a grandmother that I sortof always just clicked with. From a very early age I spent weekends, summers, etc with her. As I grew older she always traveled the 3 hours between our houses for my band performances, dance recitals, and special school presentations. People have always told me that she would just about choose me over anyone else in this world and while I doubt that is true, she certainly always made me feel that way.

My adult relationship started with Nanny around the time my girls were born. It was the first time I really ever needed her. Don't get me wrong. I'd needed her in the past, but it was more for her love, her amazing ability to get any stain imaginable out of clothes, or her company going to lunch or shopping. When Gabby and Lilly were born, I flat out needed her for survival. This is probably a good time to tell you that the woman I'm talking about is currently 74. And yes. If you read this thinking I'm talking about someone 44 or 54, you wouldn't be the first.

When the girls were born, life was brutal. Every day seemed like a struggle...even when I looked to have it all together, I was always about two steps ahead of the next pitfall. My Nanny was an unbelievable help during that time. She came up to stay with me one day each week. She would do all my laundry (have a mentioned that she loves doing laundry...I know. Crazy.) and watch the girls so I could go grocery shopping. She's even get up with them one night a week so I could have a solid 8+ hours of rest. The woman is totally destined for saint-hood in my opinion. While it was nice to have her help, no one probably ever knew, including her, how nice it was just to have her around for the day. Being a stay-at-home mom with infant twins can be such an isolating time. It was wonderful to have another adult who I loved so much around for company.

The other part, the best part, about those weekly trips was getting to see her with my girls. Even though Nanny was over 70, she cared for Gabby and Lilly like she was 20 again and raising her own kids. She did everything I did: feed, carry, rock, change, everything two at a time. She was also always singing the silliest songs to them, acting goofy like on a great-grandmother can just to hear their little giggles, and giving objects around our house the oddest names. To this day diapers are still called 'poppers.' Don't ask. I couldn't begin to tell you were she came up with that. It was truly a magical time getting to see my grandmother bond with my children in such a way. She loves (present tense totally used intentionally) Gabby and Lilly with ever ounce in her 115lb body. No doubt about it.

After my family survived the first year, the fun really began. I have such wonderful memories of being with Nanny at the lake, in her backyard pool, snowed in at their home, and cooking and eating wonderful holiday meals. The list goes on and on. And, while perhaps some might call it foolish to believe this, I still think that list will continue.

A Little about the Struggles She Faces

So, now that my Nanny has been thrown the biggest curve ball of her life, I can't hardly stand to be so useless. How can I just stand by and allow time and healing and all those words invented by people who aren't sick or grieving to happen? Not me. Not her. That's simply not good enough for my Nanny.

The jargon associated with her stroke is that she suffered a massive stroke in the left, parietal lobe of her brain. Her right side is lacking motor function and her speech is disrupted to some extent. Again, time and healing are supposed to reveal answers to all of our questions. She's recovering from a small bleed in her brain, which should absorb within a week to 10 days. She's also not able to swallow well enough right now to eat. She will say some things. She repeats just about anything and has originated a few words on her own.

Today her neurologist gave us all what some might refer to as a swift kick to the you-know-whats. He told us she would probably recover her leg and some function of her right arm. Her speech, he said, would never be the same. He said that she has aphasia, both receptive and expressive. And because I'm so opinionated, I'm going to share with you that I think he's incorrect, especially about the receptive portion of the aphasia. Yes, I probably should believe one of the leading neurologists in our area, but I'm not going to until the fat lady, or incredible skinny Nanny sings.

Today was so hard. I understand that doctors have an obligation to level with family members in a time like this. However, no one regardless of how many acronyms follow behind their name or how many degress are hung in their office, has the right to take away a person's hope. Quite frankly, this man doesn't know my grandmother one bit. I doubt he knows that she recovered from extremely serious back surgery in a matter of a couple months and functions the same way as before. I bet he doesn't know that she doesn't limp, need help getting up or down, or taking care of herself. I bet he doesn't know that her whole life she has lived by the motto that she's never getting old. He doesn't know that she carrys on and acts in a way that people mistake her for my mother and my children's grandmother. No, he doesn't know her. I know her. And I for one will never give up on my Nanny. I may be the biggest, saddest, fool when this is all said and done, but I'm not going to give up believing and hoping and praying for the one person who probably has spent more time believing, hoping, and praying for me than just about anyone else.

No Nanny. I'm not going to do that. So get ready, fiesty girl. You may hate me for being tough on you and having high expectations for your recovery. I can handle you not liking me, but I can't handle you not getting back every possible part of you that you can.

And with that, I'm going to inhale and exhale for at least one more day.

If you are the praying type, I beg you to keep this sweet lady in your prayers. Her real name is Frances, but she'd be happiest if you all just called her Nanny.