Not the way to end a year |

Not the way to end a year

There are times when what is happening in one’s life, that the saying that nothing that along with God you can’t handle. Right now I am having many doubts on this score, and if you want proof, just come to my house.

Sorry to be such a pessimist, but my son, Doug, is in so much pain it is unbelievable, and I don’t have a clue when this is going to end.

We have been in and out of the emergency room — bless those overworked souls, they are so appreciated — and Doug has had an MRI and a TAC scan. What they show doesn’t explain his excruciating pain. And believe me when I say he is in acute distress. You can be sure when you see a grown man cry like a baby, and when you have had to grab him and hold him up as he begins to pass out.

I’m writing my column very late, for me, at least, and this is Saturday and I had to get my son out of bed to get me into the computer. My computer is not compatible with the newspaper, and I have had to use Doug’s for a couple of years now.

You need to understand that we have no family here, so when we have an emergency we need to depend on friends, and since people have found out about Doug’s illness, they have been just wonderful.

It has surprised me that I have handled my many nursing duties properly, but it has been a problem getting Doug in and out of bed — my 90-year-old 120-pound body doesn’t handle moving a 175-pound man easily. I try and we have, so far, managed although I frankly don’t know how.

Thinking back at other emergencies that every family has from time to time, I only remember one really dreadful time when my son David was a little tot not even a year old. He had an intestinal disorder so severe he had to be hospitalized. It was Easter Sunday.

At first I tried staying with him, but all he did was cry because he was hungry and he wasn’t allowed to have any food for a whole day, or something along those lines. Finally the doctor insisted I go home. We lived within walking distance to Abington Hospital, and I cried all the way home. Luckily, a couple of days later I got to bring him home.

Because of David’s condition, he was only allowed to have cottage cheese, rice and I think it was applesauce. To this day those are three of his favorite foods. He grew up, after that, just fine and there were no more episodes.

I remember a problem I had when very young. I would have terrible painful attacks that sent me to the floor rolling in pain. Back then, depression days and my parents did nothing to find out what my problem was. This would happen only once or twice a year, and finally a young married mother of two I began having the attacks more frequently.

We had a doctor at the corner of our apartment who would come to the house. He would give me a shot that would put me out for hours, and it was only when I finally got a little sense, I went to another physician and they found I had an appendix about to explode.

Of course, Doug doesn’t remember the time when he was just about four and a neighbor’s child picked up a piece of a board and slammed him in the head, splitting his skull open.

I was upstairs getting dressed to take the boys — Don Jr. and Doug — out to the store and had them all ready and waiting out front for me when this happened. I picked up my bleeding child and rushed him down to that same doctor who had to use five metal clasps to close the wound. He has that scar to this day.

Doug is resting right now, and I hate to ask him to get back up and send this via the computer to the newspaper, so I’ll wait until he is getting up for another obvious reason.

All we can do is hope he gets better soon. I’ve done a lot of praying. It just has to work.

Edna Van Leuven is a Churchill County writer and columnist. She may be reached at