Long Night

The hospital just called. That was the second call we've gotten since just before midnight. It's about 2:45 now.

My mil is in the critical care unit. Her blood pressure was dropping. The call just now was the surgeon. He said something about colitis, and that they were pumping her full of fluids, but that this could possibly fill up her lungs but they have to do it to save her life. She'd be put on a respirator if that were to happen. They are worried that the colon could rupture, and that's when they'd have to do surgury, they would have to take out and remove a portion of her colon, and this would be heavy duty surgery. She's not in the best condition for this, considering her age and her advanced dehydration.

I don't know if I have all that straight. It's hard to get woken up in the middle of the night and listen to a barrage of medical terms. And I'm getting it second hand from dh, who is equally sleepy.

We've already called in the siblings, and they are expected to be here sometime in the morning. They're coming in from out of state. Everyone is very worried, very afraid.

Dh called the hospital back just now, to see if he should go down there. My fil is on his way. (We called him too.) The hospital nurse was standing beside my mil, and said that it was up to him, whether or not he come down there, but also added that my mil was pretty scared, and it would probably make her feel better if he did. He'll leave shortly.

Man, I hate this hate this hate this. I mean, I know nobody doesn't hate it, but I also hate the memories this stirs in me. Memories of my own parents, of my mother's battle with cancer. The late night phone calls. The siblings keeping each other posted. The waiting, the hoping, the fear. Emergency surgeries. The doctor's slam of too much information. The glazed expressions. The deer in the headlight eyes. So now I know much more than I want to know. I also know what it's like if things don't go well.

Have I every told you about my mil? I love my mil. I know, I know. Doesn't fit the cliche. But I do. She ended up being like another mother to me. And she's cool. She's not like the stereotypical mother in law. She's been a friend, too.

My mil is also into crafts! It's been such a treat for me. There wasn't anyone in my immediate family who was into crafts. My own mother was very supportive, but she didn't really understand it, didn't know what I was doing, wasn't really into it, other than to enjoy the fruits of my labors, and to be glad for the way it kept me busy. (We didn't have Gameboys or Wiis when I was a kid, so you couldn't just "plug us in," so to speak.) But I was so into crafts. I was teaching myself to knit when I was less than 8 years old. And I'm good at it, too. Very good. At all the crafts I do. So is my mil. And that's really neat to be able to have someone not only understand my love of crafts, but be able to share in it with me too.

And like my own mother, my mil is the glue that holds this family together. I don't know what will happen to this family if she isn't around to keep us united.

And my ds loves his grandparents. His grandmother is his oasis. Whenever there's been trouble at school, he has always been able to come to grandma for that unconditional love that only grandmas can give. I can't tell you how much we BOTH need that.

We all need her. We all love her. She's just got to pull through this.

Dh is gone now. He left a few minutes ago. And I'm here wallowing in my shadows of the past, and battling my fears of the present.

God's probably tired of hearing me pray by now, lol.