Oh, and the update:
she is in a rehab hospital now. She will be there from 2-3 weeks probably. After that she will be at home (not at home alone, but at home living with my parents) and beyond that we just don’t know. My biggest fear right now is that she won’t be able to work again, at least not at her job (she has a highly skilled job.)
I read a lot of the literature at the hospital that is there for patients and families. God, brain injury is pretty grim. The main thing I took away from it all is HOW FUCKING LONG it will take her to recover. Weeks. Months. Years. Seriously, it says that some of the issues (problems) don’t show themselves until she DOES go home, or go back to work. That’s when you realize the full extent of the damage. The hospital can teach her all sorts of things (“relearn” them as they say) but some things can’t be covered.
She’ll probably never be able to drink again. That makes me want to drink. So my dad can’t drink because of the heart transplant, my sister can’t drink because of the head injury, my brother can’t drink because he has a little problem with it (and he’s married to an alcoholic)…. shit, what kind of Irish family are we?! (Bad, sick, bitter humor, I know.)
What I’ve been observing these last few days: How my dad reacts to this. I have seen my mom go through all of this before, when my dad was so ill, and in the hospital for over a month. I know what a trooper she is, and how she handles her emotions – she keeps them inside, rarely, rarely expresses her fear or sadness, and instead is just the most devoted person, showing up at the hospital, keeping vigil, keeping the patient company, gathering as much information as she can from the doctors and nurses.
This time around she is expressing a little more; twice now she has said to me how she is not sleeping, and that she is “so upset”.
My dad, though – since he was the patient last time, I’ve never seen him like this. He is doing his normal dad thing – swooping in, doing her lawn care, looking after her bills, etc. But he is also showing this sweet, tender side, and you know it is because he is so upset. He about flipped a lid (what a stupid expression, by the way) when there was a chance they wouldn’t admit her to the rehab hospital. He was on the phone within minutes talking to the president of the hospital, insisting that she WOULD be admitted, and if there was an issue due to insurance, he would be covering all the cost. Every morning he goes to see her. Every evening he goes to see her. Tonight he sat there and ate soup with her, making sure she got her pain meds, making sure she had an ice pack for her head. He squeezed her toes and said “good night honey” when he left and it broke my heart.
He also called me and left me a message on my cell phone. (That is how my family discusses uncomfortable issues: we leave messages.) He said to me that he heard I knew of a PI and could I please make sure this guy did what he could to find out about that Sunday night, her supposed date, etc. He said “I want to know what the hell happened”.
I have found out some things. We know the name of the guy she went on the date with. We know his home number, cell, house address, and where he works. He said yes, he went out with her that Sunday night. They drove separately to the bar (a neighborhood bar, just a few blocks from my house) and met around 7:30 Sunday. They were there for maybe 2 – 2 1/2 hours and each had 3 or 4 glasses of wine.
We’re checking with the resaurant manager to see if that is true.
At first he said he didn’t talk to her again, but then he acknowledged they talked on the phone again that night for about 30 minutes (which is true.)
He also said he called her on Tuesday to ask her out again, and figured since she didn’t call back that she wasn’t interested.
He acted upset when he heard she had this accident.
So, who knows… he DID leave her a message on her cell phone, but I can’t figure out her voice mail password, and she’s not giving it up! (I tried to ask her and she told me she would just check her own messages. I’ll keep working on it when my mom isn’t around.)
Enough – I’m exhausted and have no time to do anything but go to work, pretend to spend time with D and the kids, and then go to the hospital to see her. When I get home, I’m tired, I’m worthless, and I practically pass out in bed, for another night of shitty sleep.
