I would like to write that Gigi was on her death bed, we went and saw her, she's better and I'm happy. I cannot imagine the amount of flack I would get from you chumps if I went and pulled a stunt like that. You were all so kind with your comments and emails regarding Gigi and I just love all of you for it. Its just that its kind of a long story with a lot of medical jargon and the ending makes me cry and I will have a hard time making it funny but here goes.
Gigi may have been faking the I'm-Going-To-See-Jesus deal just to get us out there for her birthday.
Ok, not true. Just me trying to make this story funny. The truth is once we got there it was as awful as I thought it was going to be. She was so nauseated, so sick, so depressed. She rallied for us but it was evident she was feeling really crappy. My precious Mom, who by this time was so overwhelmed she could barely speak coherently, called a meeting of all the who's who at the nursing home for a meeting on Friday (we got there late Tuesday night and went to see Gigi first thing Wednesday morning. Keep up.). Friday was also Gigi's birthday and she couldn't keep anything down, was struggling to stay awake and was overwhelmed by the company, phone calls and excitement of the day. She tried to make it to the in-house meeting but got so sick she had to be taken back down to her room.
The meeting was great, I mean really positive. The ladies working Gigi's case are an impressive bunch of women and after reviewing everything decided perhaps her Lanoxin, a medicine for her CHF, was making her toxic. And a little side note, if one more of you teases me for saying Gigi had a congenital heart disease instead of congesitive heart failure I'm going to beat all of you. You can read all about Lanoxin making you toxic here. Sho' nuff, a simple blood test showed Gigi was toxic from the Lanoxin. And seriously, every time I tell someone that Gigi was toxic I want to bust out in Britney's "Toxic" song. Shout out to you Brit. Also, try saying "toxic from the Lanoxin" 10 times fast.
So by Saturday morning they knew Gigi was toxic and had adjusted the meds. By THAT AFTERNOON she was feeling a little better. Amazing. By Sunday she was not vomiting, had eaten breakfast and sat in the courtyard with us while the kids rode their bikes (they have a great courtyard area for the residents). By Monday, our last day, she felt like leaving the center and hanging out at my Mom's house. Can you believe that? I could not believe it. She was perky and had an appetite. Wow. What a difference taking you off of the medicine designed to save your life but is really killing you can make.
So yes, Gigi is better for now. Bottom line, she still has congestive heart failure and a whole host of other things wrong with her. On top of all of that she is in chronic pain so I get it that she is in the twilight of her life but somehow, some-amazing-God-gifted-how, I am at peace.
One night, for some reason, we had 2 cars there. Ours and my Mom's. We were packing up to leave and Jeff suggested he and Nana take the kids home and I stay and visit. I gladly took him up on it. After they left I moved from the chair to the foot of the bed where Gigi lay stretched out. We sat and visited for a while when she stretched out her arm and patted it, motioning me to come and lay with her. So this 32 year old adult woman curled up next to her Grama like I was 4 again. I laid my head in the crook of her arm and chest and she tickled my face. She said it reminded her of when I was a little girl and she would babysit me and I would sleep in her bed with her. She told me I was particularly afraid of thunderstorms and would sometimes lay on her arm so long it would fall asleep but she was afraid if she moved me off of it I would wake up and be afraid again.
That night after I had left and was driving back home to my Mom's I realized that when Gigi dies I will be at peace. No regrets, just peace. Jehovah Shalom, the great God of peace gave me an amazing gift, one that right now I can't even fully appreciate but I know that someday I will bask in it. For now, I store it close to my heart; I know its there and I know someday I will call upon it in the midst of immense sorrow and loss. For now, what I carry outwardly is deep gratitude for the peace that's tucked away.