The Quintessential Daily Blog: "It sucks."

Good morning! Although I wrote the bulk of this post last night, I thought it might be nice to touch bases this morning. It is a windy one and only 27° so not nearly as nice as yesterday. Yesterday I never had to turn up the thermostat because the house was so warm; today I will since our high is only expected to be 30°. There are quite a few clouds, most of them dark and glowering, none of them content to be still. Or, perhaps none of them happy to be hurried on their way. In either case, I want to go out and see the big creek behind the house before I post this.

I only had the two companions today. Misty stayed in again and Seth was otherwise occupied.

Amena went to Nick’s after school yesterday so I went to pick her up at 8:00. That means I left at about 7:25 in order to be there about 8:00. There was a candle lighting ceremony at Hubbardston Center School for the Murch family. I probably should have called Amena and told her I’d pick her up at 7:00 or at 8:30. On the other hand, I don’t feel completely in control of my emotions right now and the most simple things can set me off so….

Still, on the way home, I asked Amena how school was today. Usually I get the typical, “I don’t know,” answer but not today. She said that it was different which I kind of expected. We talked about other people at school. She mentioned that Wayne and Allie drove to school Wednesday morning and made it okay. Just thinking about what it would mean to her for something like this to happen to them really brings home how other people feel.

Amena said that in some classes they really didn’t do much in the way of work. Specifically she was telling me about her art class. Art is art so it often isn’t terribly academic so….

One thing she mentioned is that the other students who sit at her table were talking about Griffin and wondering what it’s like to be in a coma. Can you talk to people and tell them things while they’re in a coma? Do they remember things? How much does a person know when they are in a coma?

I can tell you that you certainly can talk to people while they are in a coma. I talked to Cedric and Amena both while they were in theirs. I didn’t get to talk to Amena as much as I did Cedric because we were in different hospitals and by the time I was able to visit Amena in person, she was under a lighter sedation and was beginning to move around. A lot. So much so that she had periods of lucidity when she actually broke IV lines. Still, you talk to them. You talk to them a lot. You tell them everything you would normally tell them and then some. You tell them how very much you love them and you apologize for them being where they are and let them know that you will do everything in your power to help them get well. You hold their hand and you cry and you know that you have something terrible to tell them and you know it is going to be very hard. You don’t know how hard because you’ve never had to do anything even remotely like it but you can’t imagine that it will be easy and you know for certain that fun doesn’t enter into the equation at all. But, yes, you do talk to them.

I can tell you that they might remember things but the chances are pretty slim. You certainly don’t tell them anything that is important for them to remember. You talk. You don’t expect them to respond and you don’t expect them to remember. But sometimes you are surprised. How much do they know when they’re in a coma? Well, that’s a good question, isn’t it? I’ve done a fair amount of reading and some people remember conversations verbatim. Some people retain a sense of presence but nothing more. Some people report that they had out-of-body experiences and can tell you who was there and when. Sometimes they can tell you what was said and sometimes they can’t. So, you talk to them and you expect nothing in return.

And sometimes you get a surprise. Before I could go see Amena in person, I was able to Skype with her. I didn’t get to see her and I’m not sure my image was available for her but she wouldn’t have been able to see me at that point, anyway. But we could hear. All I said was, “Amena, this is Mom. I love you.” The nurse on the other end said that when she heard my voice she smiled and calmed down. What a way to melt a mother’s heart, eh? So you talk and you expect nothing in return but sometimes you get something anyway.

I was able to see Cedric as soon as I was able to sit in a wheelchair. Joseph got to come see me the very first day because he was in pretty good shape. It was hard to see him and not be able to pick him up. I was used to this youngest boy of mine climbing in bed with me for a snuggle and I couldn’t even turn from one side to the other without taking forever and experiencing a lot of pain. Sitting in a wheelchair wasn’t fun but I wanted to see Cedric so I did it. I held his hand and talked to him. I cried. I held his hand. I talked to him. I didn’t get a response at first but now I know that was because he was so heavily sedated; his injuries were such that it was necessary. Eventually, the weaning process began and that is when the responses began. He would visibly calm when I was there. I touched him as much as possible—just holding his hand, a hand on his arm or shoulder or leg, anything. Different people had a different effect on him; some were calming, some were agitating; the doctor had to ask someone to leave at one point in time because he was becoming too agitated.

Different children; different experiences. I can tell you, because I’ve asked them both, that they have no conscious memories from this period of time but that does not mean that they were completely unaware of what was happening around them.

These students wondered if Griffin knows about his sister. I would submit that on some level, he does, because I knew that Daniel was gone before I was told. The telling just made it more real. So, while he may know on a subconscious level, he will most likely have to be told and at that point it will probably become very real and that is when the grief and the pain come and roll over you like a steamroller. Telling Cedric that Daniel was dead was the very most difficult thing I have ever had to do and telling Amena, Seth and Joseph was plenty difficult as well.

“What is it like to wake up from a coma and find out your sister is dead?” these students wondered. People really need to teach their children to be more thoughtful and considerate. I realize that the pain is not the same for people who have not had to live through something like this but what I wish people would wake up to is that for us, the pain will never be completely gone. The grief and anguish will always be there. Always; or at least until we are gone as well. And we do not know what others are experiencing so we need to be kind. We need to be thoughtful. We shouldn’t be afraid to open our mouths out of fear of offending someone but I submit that offense is vastly different than pain and that while we can choose to be offended by something, we cannot choose to avoid pain.

Amena said she didn’t say anything but she wanted to say, “It sucks.” I told her she should have.