Headed into a different type of overtime

Honestly, I don’t know why I started this blog.

Jamey, Caeley and I have experienced so many funny, frightening,

fantastic and infuriating things over the years.

Much of what we’ve lived has been tucked away in our own little

Cranstoun Collective Unconscious, never to be shared with anyone outside of our “circle”.

When I first started writing the blog, I felt high! Maybe that’s because I’d been mainlining Jamey’s

morphine(kidding), but I did surge with focus, purpose and energy.

Here’s an example of a brainstorming session I

had(with myself) early on about potential blogging topics:

Looking back, there were some really intriguing topics there.

I might still talk about some of them, too.

But now, I have to talk about another topic: Jamey.

He’s currently about 3 feet in front of me in a hospice bed, but not this one:

And he’s not currently smiling.

I mean, maybe he’s smiling on the inside.

At least I hope he is.

I desperately want him to be.

He’s in a hospice bed in an inpatient hospice facility, not at home as we’d planned.

With the help of family, friends and with a clear, but heavy heart, I decided that the best place for him to receive the care, attention and support he deserves was in an inpatient hospice facility.

Like most decisions I’ve made regarding his care(at least the ones made since I had to take over as power of attorney), I made it without his consent.

As much as I(and most wives) jumped at every opportunity to decide what tasks get placed on “Honey Do” lists for our spouses or partners, it’s a little different when you’re deciding whether to keep your husband on a morphine drip (when you’re not quite sure if he’s feeling pain) or when you’re adding up the time and realizing it’s been 56 hours since your spouse has eaten or drunk anything(since he’s on hospice and that’s just how hospice rolls).

I’m making a heckuva lotta grown-up decisions lately.

And although the date of birth on my driver’s license

and my 11 year old kid will tell you otherwise, I’m not really that grown-up yet.

I might go into the specific details of what led us here in a future blog.

Suffice it to say, at 1:20 pm, Tuesday, April 14th, Jamey was walking into our kitchen getting ready to eat lunch.

I told him I was leaving for work, reminded him not to let the dogs out of their crates, and asked him if he needed anything.

He said, “Yes. Can you pick up some bologna?”

At about 4:15, Tuesday, April 14th, I found Jamey on the floor of our bedroom, eyes fixed on me, unable to speak.

He soon began the first(that I saw, at least) of several violent tonic-clonic seizures(aka grand mal).

Tuesday, April 14th, 1:15pm was two days ago. It seems like a lifetime.

8 thoughts on “Headed into a different type of overtime”

I’m sorry to hear that your plans aren’t going as you’d hope. I’m sure it feels like additional insult to injury. Your family will be in my thoughts.

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Keep talking to him, tell him to look for the angels with the most beautiful, humble and meek faces. They will lead him home. He’s going to be with the angels and saints soon, he will be able to intercede for you. I know you realize this isnt just pithy stuff I’m talking about; the communion of saints is the unseen reality that is our Gift to be cherished. We all go to Mass together. Those of us seen and unseen. All one Church; from the beginning til the end of time.

Tell him its OK to go because its time to walk up alive in Christ.

I do hope you keep writing, your blog pulled me out of a pretty deep hole. Thank you!!! My husband is not far behind yours.

Praying for you.

Hail Mary full of grace, The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary,of God
Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

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Well now that, for lack of a better term, SUCKS! Life has thrown you enough curves, so sorry that it just threw you a screwball. My thoughts and prayers are with all of you.

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I know this is not as you planned but I think he’s in good hands at the hospice and he knows he is surrounded by loved ones. You’ve made good and loving decisions for him and you need to take the time to give yourself some credit. We are all behind you 100 million percent!!

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I feel your pain, my dear, it’s tough. My stroke victim husband survived a stroke almost 6 years ago partially paralyzed and I am his careliver. I call it that because we are alive and he needs me to help him live the rest of his life. I hope I never have to call the Hospice. Peace be with you both. I wish I could help.

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Sending our love and support sis. Allow your intuition to lead you and we’ll keep spreading the word for you. You are inspiring so many folks from all walks of life with your blog. Keep writing, we love you.

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