It was a week. Whoa. An extra class, a bunch of high intensity meetings that needed prepping for and a bit of a family drama that I am happy to say resolved into a good story and thankfully not much else.
On Monday morning when I got up early, I took my phone out of the cigar box next to the bed I keep it in overnight and there was a voicemail that came in after I went to bed saying that it was a social worker calling from the emergency room of the big trauma hospital in Seattle. I was listed as an emergency contact for someone who had been admitted and could I please call back.
No name of the individual admitted, no details.
I didn’t know if it was a hoax or not. I looked at the number. It was a Seattle area code. So, I fed Carlo and called the number. At just after 4 AM. I get a different social worker, but yes, it is the hospital emergency room, and she asks do I know who it could be? Okay. I guess the last name of my adult niece and nephew who both live there thinking oh gosh, a traffic accident, a shooting, oh gosh, oh gosh.
It was my niece. The one with cancer, who is going through her second round of chemo. The social worker read me the case notes. She had been at work; she works at a concert/sports venue. She had started throwing up and become disoriented to the point that there was the possibility she had had a seizure. She had been admitted. I got the names of all the folks on the in case of list.
Her father and brother had been contacted and had been to see her. Her father? Her brother? Her father is disabled, on dialysis, and does not have a car. Her brother, who is in contact with his half brother is not speaking to his sister. There is a big seemingly irreconcilable split between them. We walk on eggshells as a family with this one.
But oh my. Her daughter Miss E. is I think in Ireland (but it turns out is in Italy instead). I texted her. My nephew had emailed her saying they didn’t know what happened, a seizure, an out-of-control UTI, she was out of it in a scary way.
This is all stirring up emotional stuff for everybody down the line. I am trying to figure out how I can punch a hole in my busy schedule and make arrangements and get up there. I am not comfortable with my niece’s father, my sister’s ex-husband having to do with deep water under a long-ago bridge. I haven’t seen him since Miss E. graduated from high school about 7 years ago. And I wasn’t comfortable then. My niece has a pretty good relationship with him, though.
I get a lovely charge nurse on the line from the floor where my niece had been admitted who said she was sleeping, and is not in crisis, and had known who she was and where she was when she got to the floor. I asked her if she thought I needed to get up there and she said she was stable, getting the care she needed and if I wanted to monitor her situation throughout the day from here that made sense. We talked briefly about the stress of the chemo.
I reached back out to Miss E. and then Kes and then tried to get more info throughout the day. I was on high alert, but no one was getting back to me. Or Kes. All day. Not a peep. When I tried talking to a later shift of nurses although the unit clerk was friendly, no info, no go. Ugh. I teach, I do my things, totally preoccupied. It was so frustrating.
At 11 PM when my phone was back in the box (with the ringer on) a text comes in. I don’t see it until Tuesday morning.
I am fine my niece says. I had a pot cookie, and I ate it too fast and…
Oh gosh. She was high as a kite.
I imagine the way her immune system is compromised by the chemo didn’t help with that at all. But she is not a drinker, or a recreational drug user so had no tolerance at all.
She is home and starts radiation this next week. She saw her oncologist afterwards. There is much chagrin. Not only did her brother, who she is not speaking to show up, her father and her ex-girlfriend did too. This just killed her emotionally in her coming down fog to see all of them. None knowing why or what had happened. Her father was particularly concerned understandably. I doubt she has shared much with them about her treatment at all.
She has modified all her emergency info since then. Miss E. said I was the sane one, so I got elected as secondary contact. I asked her to choose someone who actually lives in Seattle, (Miss E. is not coming home anytime soon), but she stubbornly said no. Miss E. understands her wishes and I will implement them as needed. Embarrassed as she is, I am sure this was traumatic as well and at this point I am not going to argue.
One can only hope, as we go forward, common sense prevails… please?
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