I know that my other blog is the preferred reading blog of my friends and family, but this one, unlike the other, is about me and what I'm thinking and feeling. It's not really about my kids and the crazy things they do, it's more an outlet for my emotions, good or bad. Sometimes I feel a bit of guilt if I don't have anything positive to write about. I figure people need uplifting things to read, so why should I bring them down if I'm feeling depressed?
I forget that it's my blog.
Something took place in our family several weeks ago that changed my life and that of many people around me. I've been hesitant to write about it because it feels extremely personal, and I tend to protect those things that are dear or personal. When writing about them, a person runs the risk of cheapening the experiences, at least in my perspective. But I've decided it's a risk I'll take. I need to write about this so that I can unburden my mind and my heart, because day after day, more pain, more love, more despair, and more hope are heaped upon it.
On January 6, of this year, my big sister, Cori to many--CoCo to me, suffered a stroke. She's only 48 years old. She was living in Monticello at the time. She was brought by ambulance to the University of Utah medical center. She spent the next week in the Neuro Acute Unit, trying to come to grips with what happened to her. The doctors discovered a blood clot in the cerebral artery that had blocked the blood flow to her brain. Two-thirds of her left brain tissue is now dead. She cannot form her thoughts into words, she struggles to get one word out at a time, only to discover it's not the word she wanted. Her right arm is paralyzed and so was her right leg. She now has some movement in the leg and responds to stimuli, so we have hope. She cannot dress herself, or bathe or use the bathroom without assistance. And to top it all off, she developed a blood infection and is now on long-term antibiotics.Ten days ago she was moved to the inpatient rehab unit, and the gruelling grind of therapy began.
My heart is so heavy for her. She has not had an easy life and the unfairness of this situation has hit me hard. Why her?
My sweet sister and I have had our difference in the past. As have her husband and I. But when this happened, all animosity went out the window. On all our parts. Clay and I have sat together and talked. We know that nothing will ever be the same. He knows that he needs the help and support of family. He is currently looking for a job and a place to live in Sandy or Draper so that he can be close to us. We both realized that if we were going to care for CoCo, contention could not exist. And with that realization, the hard feelings simply disappeared. They just do not matter anymore. The only thing that matters, is my sister.
I spend about five days a week with her and it's not because of any obligation I feel. I'm with her because it's where I want to be. Even with her limited speech, the more time I spend with her, the more I understand her. We actually talk. Through hand gestures, facial expressions, a few words, and expressive eyes, I know what it is she is trying to say. It's not easy, but it's possible. I also want to be with her so that I can learn from the nurses and doctors how best to care for her. There is a very real possibility that I will be one of her major caregivers on a long term basis. My brother, Peter, along with Clay, is right there with me. My other sister, Lori, was on an airplane from California right after she got the news about the stroke. She wasted no time in hurrying to CoCo's side, and she would still be here if she wasn't in the middle of school. She is seriously considering a move to Utah so that she can help also. We are all here for CoCo because we want to be here, not because we have to.
I cannot even begin to describe the amount of love I feel for my big sister. I would do anything for her. On the days when I can't make it to the hospital, I think about her, constantly. There is never a moment when she's not on my mind or in my heart. But even though the love is strong, I still feel quite empty. This experience is taking a lot out of me and I often feel alone--lonely. My husband and children are sacrificing a lot themselves so that I can be with CoCo. But right now, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Just last night I went to the hospital. I arrived around six-thirty, later than usual. CoCo was alone in her room, crying. When she saw me she reached for me and I held her and we both cried. She was depressed and not feeling great. I helped her out of bed and into her wheelchair, and then we went for a walk, exploring the hospital. I think she needed a change of scenery, just a little pick-me-up after a hard day. After her walk, we went back to her room and I showed her the new clothes that Lori had bought and mailed. I organized them in the dresser drawers and then straightened up the room. CoCo is a very neat person and this seemed to cheer her up quite a bit. After that I got her some ice chips which she loves. It's the only thing she's allowed to eat right now because her swallowing reflex is too weak for food. She has a feeding tube instead. We talked for a bit and then I helped settle her in bed and we watched T.V. together for an hour. I like to stay with her until she falls asleep so that she sees me right before closing her eyes. I don't know who it helps more--me or her?
My emotions right now are very close to the surface. It doesn't take much to make me cry. My bucket empties rather quickly and I find that the best ways to fill it are with funny sitcoms, a date with my hubby, a talk with my best friend, and time with my Book of Mormon and on my knees. My life over the past several weeks became much more complicated and therefore simple out of necessity.
Today I was feeling particularly depressed, which is what prompted me to finally write about all this. I think that by simply acknowledging this emotion, it's helped to make it better--not gone, but better.
