Short Synopsis: Every day is measured in inches, bits, baby steps forward. Kayla has to learn how to breathe again. All the muscles around her chest are gone because of the three weeks of sedation. When her chest was open to the world for 6 days, there was even more muscle deterioration. The blessing is that it can all come back - it just takes time and a lot of work. She has to exercise her tired injured lungs. They have just come off of pneumonia. They are weak and can only take in bitty breaths. Long slow deep breaths are harder. The machine does most of the work but each day, they will take it down a notch, set it at a lower level. She will take in her own breaths.
Most of Kayla's pain is across her middle where the 4 tubes go into the mid-section of her body. When she moves, it irritates the whole area. She is supposed to move in limited ways, but they will ask her to move in more ways over the next few days. The plan is to get her up and out of the bed and sitting in a chair.
The nurse comes in and shines a flashlight through the two canulars on her belly. The red stream of blood pulses through, tick by heart tick. If the light shines all the way through, there are no blood clots. The blood is kept thin with heparin. This is important as her beleaguered heart has fully clogged coronaries, but blood must still pass through. Getting the right balance of medicines is tricky.
The Long Story: I spent the night in Tarrytown again. I have a routine now that is scheduled around the show rehearsals. When I have a musical practice, I make sure I am in Ridgefield for it. After the practice, I sleep at my home and see Mike, Thomas, the cats, do paperwork, errands. I also exercise which means I swim a half mile in the morning. I eat nutritious food. I want to be at my physical and mental peak to do all that I have to do. I want to have my best mind for helping "the Kayla."
Mike is amazing - he keeps our home beautiful. He is clean and we are on the same page. We are simpifying our home in all ways possible - getting rid of anything we do not use. When you walk in, it's pleasant, beautiful and peaceful. He leaves the mail and I sort through it, putting it in piles for action or filing. Many are sending beautiful cards of love for "the Kayla." People are asking what they can do. I tell them all the same thing - come and see her. She thrives on company. What they don't know is that when "the Kayla" has people around her, she forgets her constant physical pain. She is stoic - I cannot understand how she can even bear it.
I love to drive and am doing a lot of it with going to Tarrytown, which is 20-25 minutes away or to Ridgefield - 1 hour away. Driving is something Americans do second nature. We are always in our cars, well at least a segment of our population is. I am in that segment. My car is my second home. I do everything in it - eat, rest, text, practice singing with a CD....I play driving games in it.
When I am tired, I drive like a doddering old woman in the right lane. I go slowly, nearly falling asleep at the wheel. This is rare these days as I have gotten smarter and know how to drive safely. Most of the time I am whizzing in the left lane to pass and going over to the right lane after. The fun begins when some crazy youngster is speeding up behind and blasting past. I do not like to be passed so I situate my car to make it difficult for this blaster. I block the lane.
If they are next to me and are rushing by, I get even and pick up my speed. If there is one thing most competitive, Type A people hate, it's someone coming up on their side, trying to get by them.
Then there are the crazy-don't-have-a-clue-dangerous-drivers, who come up. You never even see them in your rear view mirror. They rocket by at 90 mph, cut off your front bumper by mere inches, slip in and are gone. With great finesse they bully you into slowing down or an accident will happen. They rely on you making a defensive move. They insist upon it!
I am always curious who these daredevils are and I try to catch up to them just to see who the driver is. Young? Male or female? Most of the time they are impossible to catch as they continue to weave in and out, but on the rare occasion when I am able to get to them, I am always surprised! It's not who you think it will be - a young male, maybe 16-24 age range.....it's someone you completely don't expect. Someone from any age group!
----------------------------------------
Talon, my sister's 8-year-old son is home for the week for Spring break. He has nothing to do but watch TV or play video games or maybe go outside for a little bit. There are no kids in the neighborhood for him to play with....not like when I was a child in another neighborhood nearby. He must get bored. His parents, landscape architects, are working hard designing, planting, maintaining gardens. Spring is their high season for constant work.
I tell "the Kayla" that I am going to spend the morning with Talon, going on an adventure. It is a lazy morning and now it is around 9:30. I am still in my pajamas and so is Talon but when I tell him to be ready in 20 minutes to go out, he is ready in 5.
He gets in my car in the back seat and puts on his seat belt.
"You are not allowed to sit in the front?" I ask.
"No," he says and tells me he is not big enough ye, but he is no longer in the booster seat, he proudly points out. He clicks his belt shut.
"Ok, I have to obey your parent's rules. That's the right thing to do but I feel like a chauffeur," I tell him. I drive slow as molasses any time I have children in the car. There is absolutely none of my usual game playing when children, or any passenger, is in my car.
We drive down to Goldberg's Hardware store on Main Street and Talon sits in the car, like I am supposed to go in by myself. Main Street slopes down to the Hudson River and you can see the water.
"This is not adventure!" he admonishes.
"This is only the beginning! I have to get some keys made so your Mom and I won't get locked out of the house anymore....and your Dad too. Anytime you go anywhere, it's an adventure, you'll see. Besides, this is only the beginning."
Talon jumps out of the car. We go in and he remembers that he has been here about a year ago with Grandma. She took him upstairs to see the stuff up there. He asks permission if we can go and I say yes. Up there he plays with all the mailboxes. They are ridiculously fancy and they all have lock boxes. Guess everyone is afraid someone will steal their mail.
Back into the car , we continue down the hill. The river is just feet away now. I tell Talon I need a coffee so we head to Dunkin' Donuts where I buy him a donut. We sit and look out the window.
"Now, our adventure truly begins," I tell him. "I am taking you to the river, to Kingsland Point Park. Have you ever been there?" Talon is looking out of the window now as we drive there. He knows these streets. His Dad has brought him along these routes to baseball fields for practice.
I park by the golden eagle statute next to the river. I tell him that as a teenager we used to come to this eagle and look at it, take pictures in front of it. I ask him to climb up so I can take a cell phone picture of him and send it to his parents. He refuses. He has absolutely no interest in the eagle. He goes up to it and shows me there is no identification sign for what its purpose is. We search all around it -- nothing. It's majestic with the golden wings spread out but what is it a symbol for?
Talon observes other things completely different from what I am observing. We walk into the small private boat club right next to the train station. It is the beginning of the season. Workers are cleaning up the debris from the last storm and there is plenty of wash up from the river. We walk all the way to the point, past the picnic tables, across the shipped in sand. We come upon a female Canadian goose who is sitting on her nest of sticks. She is hidden but my trained eye finds her and she is not happy, her neck is stretched up high.
"Don't worry. We are just looking at you. Talon, look at this. She is sitting on her eggs." But Talon is not the least bit interested. He like the debris better. He sees an old tennis ball and asks permission to throw it in the river. Yes, of course. Then he sees an old soccer ball, whose cover is torn off...then an old tire, soda bottles, large pieces of driftwood.
"Geez...I am trying to get you interested in nature...the birds."
We continue on to the other side of the park and walk a long distance past the old General Motors parking lot. The car plant from my youth is long gone and only grass clumps grow up through broken cement pieces in this expansive abandoned parking lot. The plant was right next to the river. Today the land is idle as all the structures have been torn down and carted away. I once knew a girl in my neighborhood whose father was a foreman there. Every year her Dad had a new car and and we were excited when he brought it home to his driveway.
Talon and I see a light house and I am shocked.
"You know Talon...even though I grew up here...there is much I never knew about. I had no idea there was a lighthouse here, not a clue."
We walk along the river's edge. The wind is strong, the air chilly so we duck behind trees along the way to get warm. Talon sees the metal walkway out to the lighthouse and asks if it is safe. He is cautious and not sure. It is fine, you can tell. There is no one going out yet as the season is not open, a perfect time to explore in peace, just him and me. The door is locked but we walk all around the house on a metal platform. Someone lived in here and guided ships so they would not crash on the rocks.
When we walk back, Talon asks to play on the playground. He climbs up to the top of the highest play equipment. King of the Hill!
As we leave, we notice that we are not allowed to drive out the regular exit which swings around the back. The storm has left puddles and Talon says it would be fun to drive through one. I oblige. The car goes through a few inches of water for about 100 yards and it splashes up on our left side. Then I go to leave and Talon says,
"I wish we could do that again..."
I change my mind and drive back. There is a strong tall fence around the General Motors parking lot, but today they have left the gate open.
"Talon, look, lots more puddle water there. Let's try that!" We drive in. There is a small lake of left over storm water. I look out the window to check. It is only a couple of inches deep.
We drive straight into it.
Egad!! The car plummets into deep water, almost 2 feet. Talon yelps! I slam on my brakes and do reverse, and barely make it back.
"Oh dear. That wasn't too smart Talon. Another few feet and we would have had to call a tow truck. I had no idea it was going to get that deep that fast. I figured it would be inches all the way across....!!"
-----------------------------------------
Mike hadn't seen Kayla for a number of days and wanted to visit the hospital. When he came he was exhausted and could not stay awake. I grabbed up Kayla's special gel pillow, changed the pillow case and kneaded a nice depression into it. I set it up for him at the side of her bed. He put his arms over it and sunk his chin down. He was asleep in an instant.
"Your father is exhausted. Maybe tonight wasn't a good night for him to come." I leave to go home.
As I began the drive north up the parkway, Kayla texts me....
"It's ok, Mom...I've been petting his head."
No comments:
Post a Comment