The Gruesome Double Header Part V (The End)
JR freewheeler@sbc Posted: Mon, May 28 2012 9:57 PM Reply

We’re going out the door when I see a lady who works in the dietary department.

"Mom, I wanna say goodbye to that lady." I’m pointing toward the pay phone. I’ve seen this sweet lady most days up on the seventh floor. She suddenly sees me too, and interrupts her conversation to take my hand and say, "Goodbye."

 

"One of the patients was just leaving." she explains to the person on the other end.

When we get outside, I understand why Mom put clothes on me. It’s cold out here. But fresh, cold outside air is better than warm,old hospital air any day. Somehow, Mom and Dad haul me into the back seat of the van without help. How can they do it? I’m thinking it’s gotta be as easy as moving a baby elephant. When they hoist me into the back seat, Daddy reclines it make me comfortable. Then he swivels the front passenger seat around facing me, so I have a place to rest my legs.

Twenty minutes from the hospital, riding through the park, I fall asleep. I wish I could sleep for at least an hour. Two or three hours would be even better. But twenty five minutes sleep is all I can get before we’re home. It’s not enough. Now I have to be lugged into the house. Glenn comes out to help, because it would be awkward for Mom and Dad to carry me that far. Mom takes my shoulders, Dad takes my feet, and Glenn holds me up in the middle. It must be like carrying a billboard.

Just when I get outside, the cold air hits me. Oh no."Mom,I don’t know exactly how we’re going to do this, but I have to go to the bathroom."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh boy, is it urgent?"

"It’s getting there. I can wait a few minutes, but I’m gonna to have to go."

"Okay," Mom says, "We’ll have to work something out. Let me see what we’re going to do." Somehow I manage to sit on the toilet. Mom lays a small waste basket on its side to prop my legs up. This is not at all comfortable. But it was the only solution Mom can come up with right now. When I’m done, my parents start looking for an easier way to do this.

Dad brings the portable toilet we use for traveling inside to see if I can use it. But it won’t work. It’s only as tall as the regular toilet. But I’d still have to sit straight up. When we try it, I’m getting pinched between the body cast and the leg casts, just like I did using the toilet. Mom works out something to let me pee for now. I’m glad I don’t need to poop.

Before four o’clock, Jeanne comes in the house. She says, "Julie, you’re home!" and stretches out her arms to give me a gentle hug. "I’m home Honey, I missed you. I’m glad to be home."

In half an hour, I’m crabby. As politely as I can, I ask, "Mom, could you please ask everybody to quiet down?" Her response is totally unexpected.

"Would you be more comfortable back in the hospital?" She doesn’t mean to threaten me.

She’s worried about whether I’m okay. But her tone sounds threatening. "Mom, give me a break. I just got out of the hospital. I haven’t been home in almost three weeks. It’s just going to take me a few days to get used to the noise level around here. I’ll be okay."

The biggest problem is that the trip home wore me out. A twenty five minute nap on the way home wasn’t enough to do me much good. Once I get a chance to rest for about an hour, I feel much less annoyed.

It’s irritating that Glenn starts drawing Wonder Woman all over my cast the minute I wake up. I wanna say, Hey, Buddy I’m still your sister under here. I’m not just a huge piece of cardboard. He’s been drawing her everywhere for a couple of months. Usually on notebook paper or something harmless. But in a few hours, I’ve got at least fifteen pickle shaped drawings on me. I don’t like Wonder Woman, even in the comics. I don’t say much about it thouugh, because I’ve missed Glenn so much.

Saturday morning, I’m surprised to realize that the doctor called Mom to check on me. It shouldn’t be too surprising, because I’ve been through a lot. Still, I can’t help thinking that he has enough to do for kids who are in the hospital now.

"She’s fine, Mom says. "We had a little trouble figuring out what to do about the bathroom, but other that, she’s okay."

Daddy is iniddle of a drugstore trip. He comes in grumbling a little, because he found it awkward asking to buy a bedpan. Luckily, he got one. If he couldn’t, we’d have a huge problem. It’s the only way I can go for a while.

Yesterday I came home with a tube of ointment to moisten my stitches and a very strong pain medicine.The first time I take one of the huge tablets I’m thinking, How the heck am I supposed to swallow this thing. Each tablet is about two inches long, a quarter inch wide, and an eighth of inch thick. Thank God I don’t need more than one at a time. It’s a good thing I have all the time I need to sleep.The medicine works in half an hour. But it puts me to sleep for two or three hours.

As glad as I am to be home, it’s hard to let somebody help me with everything. Because I can’t sit up, I need help with even eating. Nobody’s been feeding me since I was a baby. Saturday night, Mom asks Glenn to feed me.

In a few minutes, I say, "Mom, he put his hand his hand in my mashed potatoes!"

"Glenn, say you’re sorry." Mom says. He quickly apologizes. Maybe it was an accident. But I thought maybe he was teasing me.

We’re having lobster and other great food I love. Why now though? I still don’t have much appetite. I’d enjoy it a lot more if I could eat like I normally do.

Before bed, I say, "Mary, do me a favor."

"Sure, what do you need?"she asks.

"Would you please rub some ointment on my stitches, they’re driving me crazy."

"I don’t want to." She gives me a scared look.

"Why not?"

"I’m afraid I’ll hurt you." I don’t blame her.

This probably isn’t something I should’ve have asked her. She’ll be ten years old in three weeks. I asked her instead of asking Mom because she has an extremely gentle touch. "Please, Honey, you’re not going to hurt me. You’ll be doing me a favor. My stitches are all dried out and pulling." Mom has to talk her into it, but Mary eventually helps me out.

Sunday, Daddy goes looking for of a couple of things to keep me busy. I ask for a notebook to have somebody write my thoughts down in, and a book titled Karen, about a young girl with Cerebral Palsy who was born in nineteen forty. Mom’s told me a little about her once in a while. She read the book when I was little, to help her understand C.P. She starts telling me enough about Karen to grab my interest. So I decide I have to read the book myself. It’s at least three weeks before I feel well enough to read it.

Lying in bed all day staring up at the ceiling feels something like I think Goldie must feel swimming around in her bowl. She's the one surviving school carnival goldfish. She makes it through more than two years of Rowe family craziness, including moving into the new house. Until Mom gets careless cleaning her bowl, and leaves soap in it.

"Oh no," She says, "your sisters are going to be upset with me."

The next few days they say, " Mom, how could you do that?"

One day, Aunt Paula stops by. She starts complaining because she just found out Cousin Scott needs glasses. Big deal! Look at me. I’ve worn glasses since I was two, and I’m flat on my back in bed with plaster up to armpits! Even now, if I said this out loud, Mom would have something to say about it. So I don’t say it till she leaves.

Mom spends a lot of time reading to me, to increase my attention span. She reads articles from Reader’s Digest. It confuses me when she reads about the Chappaquiddick incident. I get the idea it’s something that just happened. She explains that it happened ten years ago, and people have been talking about it recently because Senator Kennedy’s running for President. How did he even get to be a senator? I don’t want to tell her this bores me. But I’m relieved to go on to something else.

At first, when Mom reads to me, I often lose my concentration, because I start to hurt too much. If I need one of the great big Darvocet tablets, we have to quit reading, since I can’t stay awake long. I'm so sick and tired of hurting all over, I start to wish I didn't even have legs. It's a depressing thought. But I can't help it. The lady with the hip replacement wouldn't think I'm grown up at all.

 

 

When I finally pick up Karen, and start to read it, I drive Mom nuts for a while. I’m running into words I’ve never seen. Eventually, I’m able to figure out the unfamiliar words by reading the surrounding words. If understanding certain words isn’t necessary for me to comprehend a situation, I skip over them so I don’t bother Mom too much.

Karen’s family is wonderfully crazy, a lot like my ours. The biggest difference between her family and mine is that she grew up Catholic. I don’t understand Catholicism. But that doesn’t matter.

 

When I get far enough into the book, I can very easily plug myself into any situation in her place. But in reading the book, I become aware of just how much different society was in Mom’s generation. Mom ‘s about a year younger than Karen would be. It makes my blood freeze when one doctor tells her parents that in China, Karen would be left on top of a mountain to die. The ignorant doctor thinks abandoning her is acceptable. Her parents tell him they’re not interested in that kind of solution. Most of it is enjoyable to read. But incidents like this are hard to read about.

By the time I’m staying awake reading all night, Mom decides I’m ready for a tutor.

I’ve been out of school six weeks when she calls the school board. If it took much longer to start catching up on my schoolwork, I ‘d never catch up.

My tutor is a very sweet, attractive lady, probably around thirty. In the day time she works in a resource room at one of the local schools. Once in a while, she and Mom discuss Jeanne’s problems with reading and spelling. She had no problem with ‘A is for Apple, and B is for Ball.’ But when she started first grade, the school board changed to a new method of teaching, which left my poor sister completely confused. She started to have to learn the the new system where a flat tire represents the S sound because it hisses when it leaks. Jeanne couldn’t understand this, and totally lost interest in reading.

The principal in our old neighborhood said Jeanne shouldn’t repeat a grade, because she didn’t deserve that kind of punishment. The principal in our new neighborhood said he wouldn’t put her back in second grade after school had started, because she was already in third grade, and her friends would know she got held back.

Jeanne’s school problems are confusing. She’s smart. When Dad and Glenn spend two hours putting Glenn’s new aquarium together, she figures out where the last piece goes. I think it’s the piece that keeps the filter from bumping the tank. They’re both staring at it for half an hour. She looks at it for half a minute and says, "Dad, that goes here, because it needs to do this." Jeanne’s only eight. But when she shows Dad what it does, he can see she’s exactly right.

Every day, I wait for Mary to come home. When Mom’s too busy, she writes in my notebook for me. I’m writing poems, and limericks. Mary also draws whatever pictures I want.

 

Winter

First a breeze. Then, a sneeze. Now it’s thirty two degrees. A snowball fight. A fire at night. But it’alright.’cause Springs in sight.

 

One of my untitled limericks goes:

 

There was a young man from Peru.

Who decided to live in a zoo.

He lived in a cage.

His mother,outraged

Packed up her bags and went too!

 

I try to write a letter to the hospital. A lot of things the nurses did weren’t right. I want to keep them from being mean to other kids. But it makes me so angry, I can’t finish the letter. Just recovering from the surgery is hard enough.

 

I’m home three weeks when I visit my friends at school. I’m more comfortable talking to my handicapped friends I’d like to see everybody else too. But what will they say when they see me in my plaster suit? David tries to take me down the hall to see everybody. I’m just scared I’ll feel to strange. We talk to Mrs. Hildebrandt outside her class for ten minutes. Mrs. Groene, the school nurse, joins us in the hall for two minutes. She pretends to sign my cast with a pretzel stick. Then she takes out a magic marker, and signs it. She gives me the pretzel stick.

 

A week goes by. I have a doctor appointment. Everything looks good when Dr. G. sees the x-rays. So the casts come off my legs. Each piece of the casts goes inside a sleeve. They put velcro on the outside. Until the pain quits, I’ll use them as splints. But I can start moving around a little bit, because I can have them off for a couple hours a day.

 

When the casts are off, Mom starts to wash the dried blood and dead skin off of me. She accidentally bends my legs a little.

 

"Ow Mom, be careful. That hurts!"

"I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to do that."

She wouldn’t have to say it. I know it was an accident. But I can’t help reacting to it. How stupid I feel that I’ve worried about a little thing like having stitches pulled for over a week.

 

When I try to call a friend, and accidentally reach an operator in Florida, it’s embarrassing. She says, "Your child is is playing with the phone." The frustrating thing is the same thing happens again in a week. The problem is my finger goes too far around the dial. Dialing lying down is awkward. But I don’t want to ask Mom to dial for me.

 

One afternoon, Vikas’ Dad calls. He asks if he can bring Vikas to see me. He was out sick the day I went to school to see everybody. Mom says okay. So, we cut the Saturday tutoring session short.

 

Every time Miss Newhous’ class calls, he asks, "When you coming back to school?" It’s just the same when he comes to see me. "I’ll be back when I can sit up." I tell him. It feels like I’m saying it for the tenth time. He’d like me to tell him how long it’ll be in days or weeks. I wish I could. But I don’t know that.

 

Around Easter, when I ask, "Mom, do you think I’ll be able to go back to school this year?" she says,"I don’t know, we’ll see."

 

She says it the same way she does if I’m asking permission to do something she’s not sure about. It’s the last thing I want to hear. I’m already older than a lot of sixth graders. I started school a year late because the kindergarten class was too full. Repeating sixth grade would feel like the end of the world. Mom doesn’t want to promise me I’ll go back to school for sure when she can’t control that.

 

It seems unfair that I’m only allowed an hour of tutoring for every day I’m out. This is the most the school board will pay for. Luckily, the time keeps adding up. I don’t keep asking about whether I’ll make it back to school. I hate it, but Mom’s right. We’ll have to see what happens.

 

There’s something else that pops in my head tonight."Mom, if you want to go upstairs and be with Daddy for a while, I’ll be alright."

 

She knows I don’t mean to be a smart mouth kid. I’m just thinking they’ve spent so much time taking care of me, they don’t have time to talk to each other.

 

She says, "Honey, that’s sweet. But I can’t leave you down here by yourself."

 

That’s what I figured. But I had to ask anyway.

 

There aren’t as many really bad days as when first got home. But one day,I ask, "Mom, will the pain ever go away?."

 

"Yes Sweetheart, it will. Think about this summer, when you can go swimming, and fishing."

 

She has me put my arms down at my sides. She’s trying to get me to do biofeedback. But when it doesn’t help after twenty minutes, she gives me one of the monster tablets.

 

My emotions get stirred up, just like they always did. When we read about the pilgrims coming to The New World, I get tears in my eyes. Many of them died of starvation or disease on the voyage. Others didn’t live through the first winter. The survivors were incredibly brave people.

 

One day when Miss Smith describes an incident from her teens, involving an overflowing bathtub, I laugh hysterically. I can just see the water leaking through the kitchen ceiling.

 

Laughing isn’t so great when you need to pee. I make the mistake of thinking I can wait until after the tutoring session to go. So Mom has to change the bed. Besides being embarrassing, it’s painful to have to be moved.

 

Vikas comes to see me one more time. Maybe it’s hard for him to go to a friend’s house very often. But he’s being a complete jerk. He hits Glenn over the head with the Monopoly board, and dumps the pieces on the floor.

 

That’s bad enough. But then he puts a marshmallow candy under my leg behind my knee. Mom has to bend my leg to remove the sticky mess. He must think I’ll get back to school sooner if he forces me to bend. What he doesn’t understand is how much it hurts. I’m as mad as I’ve been at anybody all year.

 

"You rotten egg, I can’t believe you did that!"

 

I’m happy when Mom and Dad decide it’s okay to go bowling. I love Mom with all my heart. I’d never get through all this without her. But we both need a break from being together all day every day.

 

At first, Mom has a neighbor sit with with us. It’s not much of a break for me. By now, I’m totally sick of having adults in my face. When Mom lets Sherry, our regular babysitter come back, everything gets back to normal. She’s fifteen, so when she comes over,we just hang out and have fun. We don’t have to worry about how we talk to each other. She writes things down in my notebook for me. She even asks if she can copy one of my poems and share it with one of her teachers. That makes me feel so good.

 

When Miss Smith first came to tutor me, she gave us a puzzle to try to solve. " There are three words in the English language ending in G-R-Y. What are they?"

 

The first two are easy. Angry and hungry. I’ve had notes, cards, and phone calls asking what the third one is. Every time somebody comes up with one that could be it, they say, "Wait a minute that can’t be right. After more than three months, we’re just as curious as the kids at Miss Smith’s school. What could it possibly be? Nobody knows!