210827 Angels and lessons

 August 27

From the porch at #48.

Mumma is in hospital. 

I have struggled with this back pain for five weeks, and in spite of three previous ER (hospital emergency department) visits and a doctor visit, I still have no diagnosis and until tonight no relief from the pain. But tonight I have been admitted to hospital, St. Joseph's, Toronto, and given pain meds that are actually working. I have been unable to write more than scraps of notes, unable to do most anything. Tamar, Nick and K have been taking care of me with kindness and patience. I am now in the care of a neurologist and we may finally figure out what is going on with my back. I still wonder what role the covid vaccine reaction has played.

My mother and mother-in-law have been on my mind because I feel a new sorrow for the pain they suffered with their illnesses. My pain has nightly been as overwhelming as birthing pain, but without purpose or ending. It has sometimes subsided in the day so I can sleep a little or watch some tv. At night it has been too bad for me to even tolerate music. I think of the thousands of people struggling each day with such pain from injury or illness. How many of them are alone with their pain, without helpmates or hugs? My heart goes out to them.

I have spent hours of the days and nights on the porch of #48, watching the cicadas flying among the maple leaves, the cardinals and goldfinch, robins and sparrows, the crazy squirrels chasing and scolding. The sky is pink in the morning; lemon-coloured clouds accompany the sunset and I have watched the moon wax and wane, dogged by Venus, bright beside it.

I have been set adrift in this ocean of pain, all the confidence and strength I am used to feeling, in my body and my self, has been shaken to its roots. It is frightening to be so lost, but perhaps today I have gotten into step with the order of the world once more and I can begin to swim towards the shore.

The nurses and doctors here have been so kind. I am hopeful that at last I may get answers: tests are scheduled, specialists will see me and help me through this, and, miracle of miracles: I can lie here in a quiet warm room, my pain calmed, and blessed sleep moments away.

Indre and Robin have learned patience and understanding as they have dealt with grandma's illness. They have set aside their own wishes for my usual grandma self and come to me often to tell me they love me. They have surprised me in this. They are so young to have to comprehend the fact of a loved one, a sometime parent figure who is too much in need to be there for them. They ask me what level of pain, from one to ten, I am feeling, and Robin asked today if, when my pain is gone, might we go to the field. Nothing would give me more joy.

*****

 This is a house where everyone, adult and child, lives and shares the space. I feel proud that this was my doing - these drawings represent a part of Robin's covid school year.

Be well. Be kind. 

Mumma Yaga

I miss the witches. The apples will be ready to pick.

Angel clouds, Toronto: