Pieces of the Pattons

In August, I compared the week of my dad's death and my son going to college to the movie I saw at the beginning of that week, Christopher Robin. Here's a little fun fact. I hadn't been to a movie since that one, August 12, 2018. My dad died on August 17, and it's been a whirlwind of year since then--checking on Mom, cleaning out their house, keeping up at work, Andrew having a concussion, life in general... On the Friday before my mom died, Ashley, Fred, Emily, and I went to see Disney's The Nutcracker and the Four Realms. Now, how well do I know the Nutcracker story? I've read 10 different versions of the book and attended 4 performances per year, plus 2 dress rehearsals, plus numerous other rehearsals for what, 7 or 8 years now. I know the story. So Disney's version can't be all that different, right? Wrong. It's Friday night. Emily has just gotten out of dance class and before the craziness of the holiday season set in, I wanted to take her t

Karla started it. I wonder how many times those words have been spoken. But she did. On the night before week 1 of 2018, she sat with me at my dining room table during our annual New Year’s Eve party and said she was worried about Dad. The days since Christmas hadn’t been good for him. And that was how the new year began. January 1. Week 1. Day 1. The text message came that Karla was taking Dad to the VA emergency room because he was in fact not doing well. So I met her there with Mom. He received some fluids while Karla and I sat in a freezing cold waiting room while Mom was eating a half rotten banana. This started our concerns about both of their health and nutrition. A week later, Dad really wasn’t improving and Mom was focusing on her essential tremors. She had an appointment on January 9 where they changed her medications and talked to her about a treatment she could try at St. Luke’s Hospital where they would implant a sort of pacemaker in her head to control the tremors sh

When my phone rang about 9 am last Monday morning, I knew it was the last call I would ever want to answer, but it would be a message that I wanted to know. The nurse from the Kelly House was on the other end of the line to tell me they had called hospice in because Mom had declined and the family should get there. As much as I hated hearing her say that, I had been with Mom the night before and though no one had yet put it into words, I knew that call would be coming any time. I did what I think my mom would want me to do. I grabbed my daughter from her classroom, informed Mom’s family members of what the nurse had said, and drove the longest 4 mile drive I’d ever taken between North Fairview and the Kelly House, even though Emily later said “you were driving really fast.” I was fortunate to be the first one there and have a few minutes with just my daughter and my mom, together, just the three of us, for the last time. I spent that time telling my mom so many things that I won’t

I was lucky enough to be with Dad during his last couple of hours at home last week when his nurse from Midland was assessing what we needed to do next. She thought he should lay down in bed for little bit with some oxygen and rest before we made the trip to the Midland house. But, of course, as Dani and I took him to his bed to lay down, he didn’t just want to go to sleep, no matter how worn out he was. There were still stories to share with Dani. He had to make sure Dani knew who I was, so he shared one of his stories that he’s been sharing for 44 years about how I was born and when the hospital asked what they were going to name their 5th child, Dad said he wanted it to be quit, with a K of course. All of his stories weren’t old ones though, because the last story he ever told at his house was one of pride about my son doing well in a national competition this summer. The nurse was encouraging him to rest but he wasn’t quite ready to sit still as he still had stories to tell. But

I’m a big fan of the show, The Good Doctor. In fact if you would’ve asked me last tv season, I would’ve said it’s my favorite show. The season finale affected my perception of the show. I’ll admit it’s still my favorite, but it’s the most painful thing I can watch on TV. If you haven’t watched it, the premise is an autistic genius doctor trying to make his way in a hospital. That is Shaun. Shaun has a troubled past and has been saved by an older doctor who has been his mentor, Dr. Glassman. In last season’s finale, Dr. Glassman finds he has brain cancer. He tries to downplay it so as to not upset Shaun, who is easily upset. But Shaun pushes to find out it is a glioblastoma. Not only is it brain cancer,I’ve learned it is perhaps the worst cancer in terms of aggressiveness. Unfortunately I learned this because it is the type of brain cancer the doctors found my mom had when they discovered her tumor in January. Along with that was a lot of “don’t google it. You don’t want to read what’

Four weeks ago today. Life changed. He knew life was changing that day. The rest of us may not have been ready yet or realized how quickly things would happen, but he knew. It was the first day back to school officially. I left work for a little while to meet Karla and my mom at the Cancer Center to get the results of the MRI Mom had the Friday before. We had been concerned that she was so weak, still had such frequent headaches and stomach problems, and a myriad of other concerns. The doctor wanted to do an MRI just to check out her brain to see if any traces of the cancer could be seen returning. Karla texted me before the appointment because she had already read the test results that morning. Mom had been so distraught at the last appointment where we'd set up the MRI. Mom's chart online already told us that she was still in the clear. No return of the glioblastoma. I really didn't have to go to the appointment because Karla was going too. But easy appointments have be