Today was the day I had fully accepted what was happening. I accepted it, I didn’t like it, I wasn’t ready for it...I started questioning every single thing we had done, and not done. I started blaming myself...getting upset with myself for being so out of it.
March 16th is the last day I ‘worked’. Really I went to see one job, picked up my birthday cake, and I was done. I needed to be home. I didn’t have therapy because it was a Monday. Brenda and Tommy had come to stay with Trey that morning. I remember because when I walked in I remember asking how he was. Tommy said he’s just been sleeping...Well it was time to get him up.
-I don’t know why...but I had to get him up and moving on his normal schedule with everything. Every morning after the hospital I’d wake him up, all the necessities, get dressed...and migrate to the couch.
Looking back...I hope that wasn’t mean. All I wanted was normalcy back. That was all I had wanted for what seemed like months...and I needed that. I needed him to be okay. I needed everything to be okay.
I felt like a plate spinner in the circus. WHY? I do not know. I was doing nothing, yet I felt like I was doing everything. Looking back a year later...it’s hard to believe how messed up my head was at this point after the stroke. I was processing things. But, not normally. I don’t know when or if that ever came back.
But for right then the afternoon of my birthday I needed Trey to wake up.
‘Trey...wake up.’ (Rub his chest...that was also how to get him to stop snoring(which he NEVER did))
‘Trey. Wake up...’and then I felt like I had to yell ‘TREY.’
In my mind I was just saying Trey loudly, but I was probably yelling. Everyone probably thought I was a psycho...but Trey was always a super sound sleeper, so I had to be loud.
His eyes would pop open, and then relax. He would look around for bit, and figure things out. Whatever he wanted I made happen.
Sit up, we would... go to bed, we would. No matter what I’d get him around. I had all the equipment necessary and we got it done...I don’t know how I’d get him up and around, but I did. He would sit on my walker and I’d push him all around the house. Bedroom to kitchen to dining table to couch. I didn’t want anyone’s help. I just wanted to take care of Trey.
(It wasn’t just me here alone getting him around...don’t get me wrong. Tommy and Brenda were here non stop; Benton and my Mom. Other people were as well, including Hospice nurse twice a day until now)
I just remember waking Trey up that Monday...the 16th to tell his parents bye, and thank you. There was something different that day. There was something I saw. I don’t know what. But I know it scared me. It scared me bad. The Strock’s left for the day...and had a meeting Tuesday morning, so they’d call and see if we needed them tomorrow. I remember thinking please don’t go. I was scared.
I remember asking Trey that afternoon to please not go anywhere on my Birthday. We had Picked up the cake he ordered. We would have a piece with dinner...just please don’t go anywhere.
Reality was seriously hitting me hard. And, I don’t know why. I had been the one to speak up at the hospice meeting, where he told them no. He was not in need of hospice...bless that girls tender little heart, and thank you very much. I suggested that we need to talk to Dr Orcutt about all of this. I was there the days attorneys were coming to the house, I refused to stay, but I knew what was going on. I didn’t accept anything that was going on. But, I knew and chose to ignore.
I chose to ignore everything to the point that I was coming apart. Everything was falling apart, or I felt like it was, my life in general was in limbo. All I remember was Brenda and Tommy were trying to get everything done while they could...me oblivious. I wanted none of it, I wanted all focus on Trey. I remember throwing a fit.
Such a child. no excuses. Just imagine you thinking you’d already hit bottom, and then just as you think life’s getting back to normal the trap door opens....and your barely hanging on with your finger tips...and then slowly falling. Slowly, but so quickly at the same time.
It was a real life hallucination. It really really was. It was too much to be real. This could not be real life. At night I’d go to sleep to horrible uncontrollable nightmares...awake I was stuck in a horrendous living nightmare - I think that’s why I chose to ignore everything.
Hindsight is everything. But, a year ago I was not at all in the right frame of mind.
Today I’m still not the Thomas I was last January 12th.
I just remember after the strocks left on the 16th last year Trey said he was ready to go to bed. I loaded him up on my walker, and pushed him to bed. He was probably apologizing the whole way. He was either telling me I was going to be okay, or that he was so sorry.
Sorry for what I do not know.
Things were happening. Trey started talking about getting ready for a meeting. He wanted to make sure I didn’t forget. I panicked. Called the nurse. She came right over.
That’s when she asked if I had said my goodbyes yet. All I could think was
‘NO YOU CRAZY LOON BAT I AINT SAYING GOODBYE’
I remember asking her if we were to that point already. She of course said well you never know...but you’ll know...could be a week or a month. It was all words that I didn’t want to ever hear. I didn’t know what to do.
That night was the last night I got Trey up for dinner. He did not eat. All he really did was look at his food, and look at me. He did have one bite of cake.
His last words to me came that night...
I love you’
I was scared...please make it through the night.
I was not ready, or willing to say goodbye.