hoping for catharsis
Posted: November 4th, 2009, 7:59 pm
Forgive me for dumping - I'm hoping this is a cathartic exercise.
I met my very best friend over 30 years ago. We both worked crappy, low-paying jobs at at bank. We became roommates and helped each other through boyfriends, bad marriages, other bad jobs and second jobs (waitresses), dreams (finishing college for me, living at the beach for her), and finally into Good marriages and happily ever after. We were BFFs and for us that was Best Fucking Friends - don't ANYbody try to come between. and here's how strong that was - she's die-hard Carolina and I'm die-hard Duke. We figured out how to make it work. (When my Dad died she went out and bought a Duke blue dress to wear to the funeral.) She is the sister I chose. (That's no reflection on my biological sister - she and I are very, very close, and she loves Diane almost as much as I do)
While she was living in Myrtle Beach Diane met the man of her dreams and he promised her paradise so they moved to Jekyll Island, Ga (Beautiful place). She opened a restaurant, had a beautiful little girl and life was pretty good.
3 1/2 years ago she had a cerebral aneurism. Tiny Brunswick hospital wasn't really equipped to deal with it, but they did surgery to try and repair her brain. I don't even want to get started (again) on what I think about the doctor who did the surgery. Long story short, she was in surgery for 14 hours (a miracle that she survived it) and eventually transferred to Emory hospital in Atlanta (don't get me started on them either - bed sores). Rehab for a while then transferred to Wake County hospital (where the bed sores got worse) so that she was closer to family (4 brothers and tons of aunts, uncles, etc.) who could help make sure she had visitors all the time. Finally she spent about 8 months in a rehab facility in Zebulon (lovely, caring, wonderful people. they fixed the bed sores!). She make baby-step improvements and was finally able to go back to Brunswick and eventually live at home again. Here's the BFF thing again - while she was in Atlanta and then in North Carolina, I was able to (thanks to being laid off for a year) spend a lot of time with her and I spent money (!) to buy her Carolina clothes. She actually laughed out loud when I complained about spending good money on them.
She made more progress than any of the doctors along the way expected her to - she was certainly disabled in a big way, but it was clear that this girl was fighting to get back. When she first came out of coma she seemed quite vegetative to me (I don't even know if that's a word...) but she did progress to the point where it was clear that she not only followed the conversation but also responded appropriately. When I saw her at Christmas she was feeding herself and asking to be helped out the wheelchair so she could practice taking a few steps holding on to someone.
This afternoon her brother called to tell me that she passed away suddenly. I don't know any details yet, so I guess it could have been a stroke or any number of weak systems. But my heart is breaking. Frankly I'm bouncing between desparately sad and relieved that she's not having to fight any more. I have a very clear picture in my mind of her dancing around on a cloud, happy to be in control of her limbs again. And saying whatever the hell she means to say! I know the extra years were a gift and this is the news I tried to steel myself for 3 1/2 years ago, but dammit, as time went on and she improved I BELIEVED she could get back to a point that SHE would find acceptable, no matter how long it would take.
I want Duke to win on Saturday, but there's a good chance that I'll be in Georgia wearing Carolina blue. Y'all forgive me, please.
I met my very best friend over 30 years ago. We both worked crappy, low-paying jobs at at bank. We became roommates and helped each other through boyfriends, bad marriages, other bad jobs and second jobs (waitresses), dreams (finishing college for me, living at the beach for her), and finally into Good marriages and happily ever after. We were BFFs and for us that was Best Fucking Friends - don't ANYbody try to come between. and here's how strong that was - she's die-hard Carolina and I'm die-hard Duke. We figured out how to make it work. (When my Dad died she went out and bought a Duke blue dress to wear to the funeral.) She is the sister I chose. (That's no reflection on my biological sister - she and I are very, very close, and she loves Diane almost as much as I do)
While she was living in Myrtle Beach Diane met the man of her dreams and he promised her paradise so they moved to Jekyll Island, Ga (Beautiful place). She opened a restaurant, had a beautiful little girl and life was pretty good.
3 1/2 years ago she had a cerebral aneurism. Tiny Brunswick hospital wasn't really equipped to deal with it, but they did surgery to try and repair her brain. I don't even want to get started (again) on what I think about the doctor who did the surgery. Long story short, she was in surgery for 14 hours (a miracle that she survived it) and eventually transferred to Emory hospital in Atlanta (don't get me started on them either - bed sores). Rehab for a while then transferred to Wake County hospital (where the bed sores got worse) so that she was closer to family (4 brothers and tons of aunts, uncles, etc.) who could help make sure she had visitors all the time. Finally she spent about 8 months in a rehab facility in Zebulon (lovely, caring, wonderful people. they fixed the bed sores!). She make baby-step improvements and was finally able to go back to Brunswick and eventually live at home again. Here's the BFF thing again - while she was in Atlanta and then in North Carolina, I was able to (thanks to being laid off for a year) spend a lot of time with her and I spent money (!) to buy her Carolina clothes. She actually laughed out loud when I complained about spending good money on them.
She made more progress than any of the doctors along the way expected her to - she was certainly disabled in a big way, but it was clear that this girl was fighting to get back. When she first came out of coma she seemed quite vegetative to me (I don't even know if that's a word...) but she did progress to the point where it was clear that she not only followed the conversation but also responded appropriately. When I saw her at Christmas she was feeding herself and asking to be helped out the wheelchair so she could practice taking a few steps holding on to someone.
This afternoon her brother called to tell me that she passed away suddenly. I don't know any details yet, so I guess it could have been a stroke or any number of weak systems. But my heart is breaking. Frankly I'm bouncing between desparately sad and relieved that she's not having to fight any more. I have a very clear picture in my mind of her dancing around on a cloud, happy to be in control of her limbs again. And saying whatever the hell she means to say! I know the extra years were a gift and this is the news I tried to steel myself for 3 1/2 years ago, but dammit, as time went on and she improved I BELIEVED she could get back to a point that SHE would find acceptable, no matter how long it would take.
I want Duke to win on Saturday, but there's a good chance that I'll be in Georgia wearing Carolina blue. Y'all forgive me, please.