The elephant in the room called Death
“Grandpa is in the hospital again. Can you pick me up?”
Grandpa had always been the one to transport Alan for visitations with his dad, since Julie was not welcome to come near their house and her ex-husband refused to communicate with her. But circumstances were dire and some of their bans had unofficially lifted. When Julie arrived at their home, she noticed a new wheelchair ramp led to the front door. She walked right in the way she used to when her in-laws had loved her like a daughter. She knew there wouldn’t be anyone to answer the door, and thus no one to give her the cold shoulder.
In the middle of the cramped living room was Rex, her ex-husband, trapped amid furniture in his power wheelchair supplied by the ALS Association. He rotated himself around, and his head lolled when he came to a stop facing her. He must have gained another twenty pounds since the time she’d seen him, his six-foot-two frame now like a three hundred pound bean bag chair stuffed into that contraption. He was dressed in what used to be an oversized t-shirt, flannel pajama bottoms, and slippers. Julie's heart wrenched, remembering the tall lanky man she once married, so ready to take on the world with her, now reduced to a cripple.
It had been four months since she’d last seen Rex. Alan had had a middle school orchestra concert that had been scheduled on his dad’s visitation day so he’d come out to see him perform. Rex had been in a wheelchair by then, but he still had limited use of one of his arms and could crack snide remarks loud and clear. The quick regression since then took Julie by surprise.
But it was Grandpa who was in the hospital, not Rex. It was his third trip to the hospital in the last six months, more than the trips Rex made in the same time frame. Ten years earlier, Grandma and Grandpa had lived with Julie and Rex, and she had worried back then that she was going to be taking care of them in their old age, as their minds and bodies were not fully functioning. But now they resented Julie for divorcing their son and refused to let her help. Instead, it fell to Grandpa to be Rex’s caretaker. Now between the three of them, they didn’t make up a whole person; the nearly-dead were taking care of the nearly-dead. It was no wonder that Grandpa, now in his late seventies, was in the hospital again, this time with a bleeding ulcer.
Julie asked Rex about Grandpa’s status and was surprised at the lack of contempt with which he spoke to her.
“I don’t think he’s going to make it this time. I’ve never seen him in so much pain. He’s had to bathe me and dress me himself. I’m too much for him,” he explained. “I’m killing him.”
His words were slurred and muffled like he had a mouthful of marshmallows. He took gasps of air between every fourth word and swallowed after every eighth. His lips were loose as he worked to enunciate each word, like he’d just visited the dentist and the Novocain hadn’t yet worn off. His face screwed up like he was going to cry, his brows furrowed and his mouth puckered.
Suddenly, his face brightened and he started to chuckle. His laughter grew and grew until Alan looked up from poking fun at the cat on the couch.
He started coughing and choking on his saliva, and Alan rushed to his side but he could do nothing. Julie stood there, frozen. Her ex-husband soon started breathing again, his fit now subsided.
“That’s called the pseudobulbar affect,” Rex spat out. “I have outbursts that don’t match my emotions. It’s one of the symptoms of my condition.”
“Why don’t you have a nurse?” Julie asked with pity in her voice. “This is more than your dad can handle and you need more help.”
He explained his hopeless plight: “Medicaid takes forever to approve an in-home nurse. I’m due for an evaluation again in three months, but my progression is so much faster than normal, I don’t know if I’ll make it that long. The other day, I was choking on a pill my mom gave me and she didn’t have the sense to whack me on the back. I thought I was going to die right there. Alan needs to know that he might be here when I take a fall or choke on something that kills me but that it will be an accident, not the fault of whoever is on watch.”
There had been so much bitterness in him directed to the world when they were married, and then redirected towards Julie after the divorce. His anger and negativity had been contagious and even his God-fearing parents had been infected. Even during Rex’s physical demise, their resentment towards Julie was palpable and she’d given up trying to have civil interactions with them. But right now, she wondered if he’d had a change of heart, as there was no hint of contempt in his voice, and her married feelings of pity for this unfortunate victim was returning. She squeezed his limp hand and gave him a weak smile before she and Alan left, and she was relieved to know there was a volunteer from church coming soon to care for Rex in his parents’ absence.
* * *
Alan talked nonstop about his video game on the drive home, excited about the treasure he’d found and the next level he beat. But as soon as they walked in the house, her son, now taller than her, crumpled into her arms, sobbing. He’d been holding it in all weekend.
“Who will take care of him if Grandpa dies?” he wailed. “It’s not fair. He needs me!”
Julie held him and let him cry, as she too let the tears fall.
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