Unconscious Spaces

Motions

The day that my life changed started out like any other: wake up, get a shower, get dressed while I brew my coffee, pour a cup, take my medicine and get in my car to head to work. I wasn't aware of the dreadful feeling I would have later on that day. It was 7:45 in the morning of a cold and dreary March 5th. I would turn on my usual tunes as I headed to work.

  When I arrived, I saw that I must have gotten a better head start than I realized. I try to show up as early as I can to mentally prepare myself for the amount of interaction that I subject myself to as a Call Center Rep. Heading in, I smell the dank smell of mildew and mold. "Why in the hell do we have a janitor that never cleans?" I thought as I sat my coffee tumbler down on the desk of my extremely cluttered cubicle. I looked around to see that no one was there yet and was satisfied with that. While I liked talking to people, I still had anxiety of interacting with people first thing in the morning due to people coming in with shitty attitudes and complaining constantly. It humbly reminds me of why I stay to myself.

  After a few hours, I decided to take a break and unwind from the stress of meeting deadlines and goals and eat some breakfast. I had this gut wrenching feeling that something was happening but I decided to brush it off. I had no idea where it stemmed from this morning. "Maybe, it's the dread of another fucked up work day", I thought.

  After I returned, I continued taking calls and read off of my scripts. I daydreamed of what I was going to do when I got home. Will I finally finish off that bottle of whiskey from last night or will I take a nap? Will I indulge in learning a new hobby or binge-watch a show or finish the rest of my grocery shopping? As I pondered, it was suddenly interrupted by a phone call. It was my Mom.

Mom: "Hey, I need to talk to you."

Me: "I'm at work right now, can the conversation wait until after?"

Mom: "It's something you might like to know. It's your Grandmother."

The feeling of Dread begins. 

  After the call, I decided to let my boss know that I was heading out for the day. Anxiously, he asked me, "Mr. Harris, are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, it's a family emergency, but I need to be present. I'm certain that it will be fine."

He nodded to me and I headed off. As soon as I got in the car, I drove to my Mother's house. When I arrived, it was eerily quiet. Usually, my Mother or Father would be out sitting in their rocking chair on the porch waiting for me but today? Neither of them were there. As small a detail as it was, it was still very dismaying and that alone told me that something bad was really going on.

  I knocked but there wasn't an answer so I decided to call them and as I thought, there was no answer there either so, I decided to let myself in. As I headed down the hallway, I heard voices coming from the room at the end of the hall. That was my grandmother's room.

  Ever since my grandmother fell ill, she hasn't been able to care for herself sufficiently so, my mother asked her to move in with them and she agreed either because she wanted to or she really just didn't have a choice. My Mother has a heart of gold and no matter what's thrown at her, she's always kept going. Truly, that's something I admire about her and my grandmother both is their motivation and drive to keep going. A trait that has been absent for me as of late.

  As I neared closer, I decided to listen to the conversations going on before I entered.

"Do we really need to do this? Is this necessary?"

"I think we do, I can't think of any other way."

  I decided to walk in and my parents greeted me at the door with tears streaming. My Grandmother laid in her bed asleep almost as if she was comatose. "Ben, we need your input on a decision that we're going to make and I need you to be understanding." My mother says.

"I'm listening."

My mother went on to explain that as time has gone on, she's feared that she may not be physically able to take care of my Grandmother anymore. As I feared, she's looking to relocate her to a facility with more capable people. She knows of my fears of sending her to facilities after the way my grandfather was treated years ago when he passed away due to the neglect of his nurses. They wouldn't even bathe him and when we found out about these things, it was already too late as he suffered an infection because of bed sores.

"Is it too late for in-home medical care to come and help her? I'll do whatever it takes."

"I'm afraid it is, son", my parents replied with anguish.

Reluctantly, I agree.

We looked for homes for her until we found one.

"Pineview Nursing Home."

Seems like a nice choice. Beautiful looking facility on the outside. It boasts of a clean facility with a caring staff and plenty of activities for their residents.

"This might be the most promising I've seen yet", I thought, trying to shut out my biased view of end of life facilitation.

We set up a tour the next day to look at the facility and we loved it. Surprisingly, it was identical to the description of it. Beautifully grand with skylights and columns in the middle of a multi-floored building more identical to a five-star hotel than a nursing home. Everyone that we met were very welcoming and warm spirited with their greetings and it made all of us feel even more confident in the decision we struggled so hard with just hours before. As we walked along, I heard my Mother say,

"This is the one."

She went ahead and made the arrangements for her as we were leaving with our minds at ease.

"For everything she's done for us, this is what we can do for her."