The help is unbelievable
It doesn’t matter how old your children are, they are still your kids.
For personal reasons I won’t get into too much about his current health problems … but enough to tell you he is being treated in a Reno hospital.
The help I have had during this very difficult time is unbelievable. Of course, it is difficult when you realize that Doug and I have no relatives anywhere close, and when trouble happened, we have always been dependent on friends — her in Fallon or locally — and nobody has ever failed us.
You cannot imagine how many people have called, stopped by and helped us at this time. The fact that I’m as old as I am and unable to do a lot of things I can no longer do, that when friends arrive to help, I almost want to cry in relief. If you know me personally, you know how damned independent I am and this “old “stuff” drives me crazy.
My phone has been ringing off the hook with friends and family calling. Don Jr., another son, would be over here in a short drive from Vallejo, but he is ill with a terrible cold … just what I would need to catch. My son Dean has his own serious health problems since his terrible accident. Danny’s wife is in a wheelchair, and David called and is in the midst of a couple of problems with his kids and job. All want to help — none cannot — not right now.
The other day I was talking to Dee at Squeezy’s restaurant, and when Jim, one of the owners, found out I hadn’t eaten correctly in days, he was at my front door 10 minutes later with ham, eggs, potatoes and their famous huge biscuit. I had a great breakfast. And then, late in the afternoon, another Jim showed up at my door with a cooked chicken, a nice pasta salad, some bananas and many groceries. I’m being fed and very thankful for all the good food.
The holidays are here, and what we, especially my son, have been going through since Thanksgiving is unthinkable. He had been in and out of the emergency room a couple of times, once on Thanksgiving when I had to call 911 and then a couple days ago when I had to call them again He had finally managed to get into his shower, trying to get warm water on his back, but when he got out, he could no longer move. When I couldn’t help him into his bed, I had to call 911 again. It took three of us to manage getting him ready for the ride back to the hospital. Just before dawn the next morning, the hospital transferred him to Reno.
Our puppies, Molly and Riley, can’t figure out what is wrong. Just after midnight right at his usual time, Riley will out of his bed, jump on my bed and head for “daddy’s” room. Of course, when he realizes Doug isn’t there, he sits up on that big empty bed and looks at me with a “woe-be-gone” expression that would make a grown man cry. I have to give him a treat and take him back to my room.
Molly is a little better. She seems to understand. Several days ago, neither would eat anything but some cottage chees, and I’ certain it is because they want Doug to be home and in his usual spot on the loveseat in the living room watching the latest news and eating his dinner.
One thing I’m happy about — while Doug sounds terrible, and I know he is still in pain since talking to him — he did say that the hospital food was really very good. He hadn’t eaten a real meal here in weeks, and while he may not realize it, he must be somewhat better if he is eating anything at all.
I have our Christmas tree lit and can see it from here in my little office. Molly and Riley are snoozing on the sofa, and I have the latest news on TV. While I have no appetite, I am going to try and eat some more of that chicken and do what I do every night: I am going to join all of the wonderful people in town who have done a prayer chain for Doug. My Lord Jesus Christ has never, ever failed me.
And I know he will not now.
Edna Van Leuven is a Churchill County writer. She may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.