Report of 22 Mar '10
Hello all -
Exactly 4 weeks since my mother passed away. I find it easier to remember when she was ill, for then I can remember her passing as merciful and a release. I can't yet dwell on the good times, because then I might start missing her. All the condolences shared with us by those who knew her mention her directness and honesty. Scott and the boys remember her sense of humor and her great love of making faces at my father.
So, I have glasses now. I noticed that I had to start holding printed matter farther and farther away from my eyes, and took myself off to my schoolmate (from 10-year-old days!), D. Ramesh. He is now an opthalmologist of considerable calibre, and our family ophthal. Initially, only Naren and Scott were his patients and now I. D, as we call him, and we had a long conversation before the medical part of the appointment started - discussing parents, death, medicine, the medical system here and in the U.S., Obama, illnesses, etc. He then examined both Scott and me; Scott's vision is maintaining, and I need reading glasses. D gave me a pair, and I quite like them: they magnify the print, and I no longer need to hold things far away, or sit far back from the computer's monitor. On flights last year, I had to watch the TV of the person in the row in front of me, as I could not focus on my own, however back I tilted my seat. D also told me I had to wear the glasses low on my nose, and then look over them at people talking to me, or other things I might want to see. That is a bit of a challenge, but it is a bearable one.
I got back to work at the Banyan last week and it is mighty therapeutic. The senior health care workers came and talked for quite a while with me; our bond is strong - we are on the providing side of the medical world, and I think they know my tremendous respect for them. There were patients to be seen and psychoses to be dealt with, and at least one violent person in the sick room. As I looked at Ms. A, and the disruption she was causing - from not letting me see her bed sore to using rank profanity - I thought to myself that I was very glad she was at the B, and not somewhere where her actions would provoke ire, or violence, or misunderstanding. How fortunate are we that we can take care of those whom others absolutely will not, or cannot. In a brief moment, the senior health care worker did manage to expose Ms. A's bed sore, and it is healing well. I was also very pleased about that.
Ms. M, the very cheerful patient who always smiles very widely when she sees me, came by the computer terminal where I was working (about 8-10 of us have to share this machine) and beamed her beautiful smile at me. I was delighted, and stood up to ask how she was, whether she had eaten, etc. That is the extent of my Hindi, but we revel in each other's company, and don't much care which language we are speaking in - Hindi or Gestures.
I have started to get very irritable. Maybe that's a form of grieving. I have low tolerance for repeating myself a billion times, and for clutter. Our apartment is far from beautiful, and that is irking me. The daily exercise helps immensely, as does music.
My sister, Anu, and family were in town yesterday and it was good to see them. They were off to see a movie, a treat for them as their small town, Vellore, does not have giant movie screens or English movies which play in English (they are dubbed in Tamil). Vellore is known for the medical college and hospital where Anu and Benji work, and several industries have come up around those: schools, hotels, restaurants, pharmacies. I found it to be a sweet little town with friendly people; I imagine that those who live there might occasionally want to see a non-dubbed flick, or eat multi-grain bread, or do something that those of us in Chennai take for granted.
I saw my friend, Joan, last week and that was therapeutic. Joan and I were in college together; she lost her father early, and her mother raised 8 children ably. Her mother passed away 2 years ago, and Joan and I sat and talked about what that's like. We also ate a vat of tasty food, and she gave me another vat to take home. It was a nice afternoon.
Unw -
R
Exactly 4 weeks since my mother passed away. I find it easier to remember when she was ill, for then I can remember her passing as merciful and a release. I can't yet dwell on the good times, because then I might start missing her. All the condolences shared with us by those who knew her mention her directness and honesty. Scott and the boys remember her sense of humor and her great love of making faces at my father.
So, I have glasses now. I noticed that I had to start holding printed matter farther and farther away from my eyes, and took myself off to my schoolmate (from 10-year-old days!), D. Ramesh. He is now an opthalmologist of considerable calibre, and our family ophthal. Initially, only Naren and Scott were his patients and now I. D, as we call him, and we had a long conversation before the medical part of the appointment started - discussing parents, death, medicine, the medical system here and in the U.S., Obama, illnesses, etc. He then examined both Scott and me; Scott's vision is maintaining, and I need reading glasses. D gave me a pair, and I quite like them: they magnify the print, and I no longer need to hold things far away, or sit far back from the computer's monitor. On flights last year, I had to watch the TV of the person in the row in front of me, as I could not focus on my own, however back I tilted my seat. D also told me I had to wear the glasses low on my nose, and then look over them at people talking to me, or other things I might want to see. That is a bit of a challenge, but it is a bearable one.
I got back to work at the Banyan last week and it is mighty therapeutic. The senior health care workers came and talked for quite a while with me; our bond is strong - we are on the providing side of the medical world, and I think they know my tremendous respect for them. There were patients to be seen and psychoses to be dealt with, and at least one violent person in the sick room. As I looked at Ms. A, and the disruption she was causing - from not letting me see her bed sore to using rank profanity - I thought to myself that I was very glad she was at the B, and not somewhere where her actions would provoke ire, or violence, or misunderstanding. How fortunate are we that we can take care of those whom others absolutely will not, or cannot. In a brief moment, the senior health care worker did manage to expose Ms. A's bed sore, and it is healing well. I was also very pleased about that.
Ms. M, the very cheerful patient who always smiles very widely when she sees me, came by the computer terminal where I was working (about 8-10 of us have to share this machine) and beamed her beautiful smile at me. I was delighted, and stood up to ask how she was, whether she had eaten, etc. That is the extent of my Hindi, but we revel in each other's company, and don't much care which language we are speaking in - Hindi or Gestures.
I have started to get very irritable. Maybe that's a form of grieving. I have low tolerance for repeating myself a billion times, and for clutter. Our apartment is far from beautiful, and that is irking me. The daily exercise helps immensely, as does music.
My sister, Anu, and family were in town yesterday and it was good to see them. They were off to see a movie, a treat for them as their small town, Vellore, does not have giant movie screens or English movies which play in English (they are dubbed in Tamil). Vellore is known for the medical college and hospital where Anu and Benji work, and several industries have come up around those: schools, hotels, restaurants, pharmacies. I found it to be a sweet little town with friendly people; I imagine that those who live there might occasionally want to see a non-dubbed flick, or eat multi-grain bread, or do something that those of us in Chennai take for granted.
I saw my friend, Joan, last week and that was therapeutic. Joan and I were in college together; she lost her father early, and her mother raised 8 children ably. Her mother passed away 2 years ago, and Joan and I sat and talked about what that's like. We also ate a vat of tasty food, and she gave me another vat to take home. It was a nice afternoon.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
8:25 PM
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