I’m writing this post sitting on the love seat at my in-laws’ house. I’m sitting 10 feet away from a woman that medical professionals tell us should not be alive. Six days ago, we were told we had a couple more days together. Four days ago, we thought we were at the end when her blood pressure and pulse were dropping, her fever was rising, she was asleep for nearly 36 hours, and was hallucinating and not always in her right mind when she was awake. Today, right this very second, she is sitting on the couch drinking coffee and watching The View (I loathe this fucking show) with her work laptop in her lap uploading pictures to list a piece property.
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!?!
We are all just flabbergasted. We truly don’t know what to think. When she woke up from her day-and-a-half nap with more spunk than we’ve seen in weeks, we asked hospice, “What the hell is going on??? Did the doctors miss something??? Were they wrong??? Do we need to be going back to Vanderbilt demanding they not give up???” They simply told us that she had caught her second wind. They explained that she’s getting better rest being at home where she doesn’t have doctors and nurses poking, prodding, testing, and examining her around the clock. A second wind. But, damnit, it just feels like so much more than that to us. A second wind shouldn’t last this long, should it?
Nothing could have prepared us for this roller coaster. Earlier in the week she told us that she had made her peace with it, that she was good with God, and that she was ready, but that she just had a few more things to think about before she went. Last night she told us she wasn’t giving up. Today she’s talking about the things she’s going to do when she gets better.
Y’all, we don’t know what to do. Several of us have taken off work this week because the doctors told us it was time to say our goodbyes. Her grandson and her niece hauled ass in from Colorado and New York. My brother-in-law used his last week of vacation this week because we believed what the medical professionals said. We expected to be planning and attending a funeral this week. Please don’t get me wrong. We are so incredibly grateful to have this extra time with her and so happy to see her feeling better. But again…
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!??!?!
What do we do?! We can’t all stay off work indefinitely just waiting. But on the other hand it feels so wrong to go back to work too. It kind of makes me feel like I’m saying, “Well, if you’re not gonna die, I’m leaving.”
I have no idea what we’re supposed to do. Completely mind fucked.