Last year I mentioned my oldest friend who lives in Reno - we’ve known each other since we were 10. We visited with her and her husband last summer (July 2019), and 5 days later, her husband died.
Anna was a nurse and shortly after she retired (30 years with the VA) a few years ago, she developed rapidly progressing atypical Parkinson’s. When we were there, I was shocked how disabled she had become. But she and her husband (who was almost blind) were being cared for by a woman from our hometown who was unable to work a regular job due to MS, who was also a nurse.
After my friend’s husband passed, she ended up in the hospital and then rehab in January and February due to aspiration pneumonia. The atypical Parkinson’s affects her ability to swallow, even her own saliva.
When she got home, her sisters started to get concerned about what was going on at her house. The woman taking care of her wouldn’t let them them in the house if they just stopped by - they had to call ahead. The sisters investigated and found out the both the woman’s druggie daughter and her boyfriend were living there, which was being hidden from the sisters, and valuables were missing. My friend’s youngest sister convinced her that the caretaker and the others had to go, and they should buy a single level house together, since my friend’s split level with stairs everywhere was not safe for her anymore.
Slowly, they got the house emptied, fixed up and ready to sell. Early in November, my friend accepted an offer on the house.
The next day, she tripped over her own shoes after a nap, fell, and broke her hip. She had surgery to put in pins, and was transferred to a rehab facility. About 10 days later, she started running a fever and having difficulty breathing. She was transferred back to a hospital and put on a ventilator for a day.
It wasn’t Covid - it was a pulmonary embolism combined with aspiration pneumonia again, and there is no way to stop it. Her atypical Parkinson’s is a very aggressive type. The doctor put in an NG feeding tube, so she wouldn’t aspirate food, but it can’t stop the aspiration of her saliva, and therefore can’t cure the pneumonia. She developed another blood clot, this one in her arm, and she now basically can’t move.
She is a nurse. She knows where this is going. She made the decision to have the NG tube removed and went home with hospice care on Sunday.
Just weeks ago, she was taking kickboxing classes to maintain her strength and balance. She was not ready to give up.
I’m devastated for her. She did not deserve what she has been through for the past few years. Life isn’t always fair, and this sure isn’t.
I don’t deal with death-related stuff well. I don’t do funerals, because I sob uncontrollably and make a spectacle of myself, even if I am not really close with the deceased. I didn’t go back to VA when my mother was dying - I just couldn’t.
My friend’s sister kept trying to get me to call her, but I kept demurring, and asked her to convey my comments to my friend. Finally her sister said my friend wanted to talk to me.
Screwing up the courage to make that call was stupidly hard, but I did it. It was difficult to talk to her because of the effect of the Parkinson’s on her voice and speaking ability, and because I kept crying and trying (and failing) to not let it show, Her little sister (who’s 55) consoled me afterwards - she rightly said I would always be glad I made that call.
I have been crying multiple times a day over this. She’s still hanging on, but the end is coming soon - she’s not eating or drinking enough to stay alive, and she’s on scopolamine to dry her saliva - very little urine output. I keep talking with her sister by text, sharing stories and pix. She sent me one from a local newspaper story I’d never seen or don’t remember, that her mother (my “other mother” until she died at age 57 of breast cancer) had included in a memory scrapbook she kept. I think we were 13:
This was us in 2007 at my daughter’s first wedding (we were almost 54 - she’s 17 days older than me):
Please think good thoughts for her having a peaceful transition. If there is another plane of existence, I hope she and and her husband will be together again.
Anna was a nurse and shortly after she retired (30 years with the VA) a few years ago, she developed rapidly progressing atypical Parkinson’s. When we were there, I was shocked how disabled she had become. But she and her husband (who was almost blind) were being cared for by a woman from our hometown who was unable to work a regular job due to MS, who was also a nurse.
After my friend’s husband passed, she ended up in the hospital and then rehab in January and February due to aspiration pneumonia. The atypical Parkinson’s affects her ability to swallow, even her own saliva.
When she got home, her sisters started to get concerned about what was going on at her house. The woman taking care of her wouldn’t let them them in the house if they just stopped by - they had to call ahead. The sisters investigated and found out the both the woman’s druggie daughter and her boyfriend were living there, which was being hidden from the sisters, and valuables were missing. My friend’s youngest sister convinced her that the caretaker and the others had to go, and they should buy a single level house together, since my friend’s split level with stairs everywhere was not safe for her anymore.
Slowly, they got the house emptied, fixed up and ready to sell. Early in November, my friend accepted an offer on the house.
The next day, she tripped over her own shoes after a nap, fell, and broke her hip. She had surgery to put in pins, and was transferred to a rehab facility. About 10 days later, she started running a fever and having difficulty breathing. She was transferred back to a hospital and put on a ventilator for a day.
It wasn’t Covid - it was a pulmonary embolism combined with aspiration pneumonia again, and there is no way to stop it. Her atypical Parkinson’s is a very aggressive type. The doctor put in an NG feeding tube, so she wouldn’t aspirate food, but it can’t stop the aspiration of her saliva, and therefore can’t cure the pneumonia. She developed another blood clot, this one in her arm, and she now basically can’t move.
She is a nurse. She knows where this is going. She made the decision to have the NG tube removed and went home with hospice care on Sunday.
Just weeks ago, she was taking kickboxing classes to maintain her strength and balance. She was not ready to give up.
I’m devastated for her. She did not deserve what she has been through for the past few years. Life isn’t always fair, and this sure isn’t.
I don’t deal with death-related stuff well. I don’t do funerals, because I sob uncontrollably and make a spectacle of myself, even if I am not really close with the deceased. I didn’t go back to VA when my mother was dying - I just couldn’t.
My friend’s sister kept trying to get me to call her, but I kept demurring, and asked her to convey my comments to my friend. Finally her sister said my friend wanted to talk to me.
Screwing up the courage to make that call was stupidly hard, but I did it. It was difficult to talk to her because of the effect of the Parkinson’s on her voice and speaking ability, and because I kept crying and trying (and failing) to not let it show, Her little sister (who’s 55) consoled me afterwards - she rightly said I would always be glad I made that call.
I have been crying multiple times a day over this. She’s still hanging on, but the end is coming soon - she’s not eating or drinking enough to stay alive, and she’s on scopolamine to dry her saliva - very little urine output. I keep talking with her sister by text, sharing stories and pix. She sent me one from a local newspaper story I’d never seen or don’t remember, that her mother (my “other mother” until she died at age 57 of breast cancer) had included in a memory scrapbook she kept. I think we were 13:
This was us in 2007 at my daughter’s first wedding (we were almost 54 - she’s 17 days older than me):
Please think good thoughts for her having a peaceful transition. If there is another plane of existence, I hope she and and her husband will be together again.
