Madhouse
Our home could never be said to be a center of calm. Things go wrong on a regular basis and I long ago gave up on expecting anything I planned to do to work out. My plans for yesterday -- originally for Sunday but I was forced to postpone them a few days -- were only to barbeque a couple of kielbasa sausage for the three of us.
Things started to derail with -- as usual -- an early phone call. This call was a signal from Panamá to call Delia's sister Stella for a longer talk. We do the calling because we get much lower rates on phone calls. Anyway, the signal only gets used for emergencies and the emergencies usually have to do with the health of Delia's 93 year old mother, Carmela. Delia was almost in tears when she made the call, before getting any information, because she was afraid of what might have happened.
Her fears were justified. Carmela was in the hospital, in the emergency room. She had gone five days without a bowel movement, something had gotten strained nearly to the breaking point and had gotten infected, Carmela began to swell up and things went downhill from there. The doctors were afraid to operate, for a variety of reasons, but were able somehow to extract over two kilos (five pounds) of excrement and are now treating Carmela for toxic shock or something much like it.
Delia became more hyper than normal. She wanted an immediate flight to Panamá but she kept getting in the way of our doing anything to arrange it. We finally came up with four options: last night's American red eye flight, this morning's early Delta flight or flights on Thursday or Saturday. I reminded Delia that Friday was July 4 and that she should avoid trying to fly the day before or the day after. She agreed, which eliminated the last two options. Delia decided to take Delta, so Cathy opted to go on the red eye flight. Cathy knows better than to consider sitting next to Delia for extended periods when Delia is near hysteria.
For Cathy, packing was easy. She had done her laundry last week. She dumped stuff into a couple of suitcases and was ready to go. I had to do three batches of laundry for Delia and she was packing up until the last minute ... and still managed to delay our departure half an hour beyond the deadline I gave her.
Fortunately the people at Delta were very good to Delia. When they learned of her situation, they took her out of the check-in line and brought her to the front of the first class check-in line, then put her in a wheelchair to justify taking her to the front of the security line, which was as long as I have ever seen it, a double queue extending half-way back across the pedestrian bridge over about six lanes of traffic. I had to leave her at the security check, even though it was still an hour before her flight, because I didn't have a ticket and couldn't go any farther.
She should have left two hours ago. I haven't heard anything, so I assume she's on her way. Cathy should be landing in Panamá just about now. Hopefully she will send me an email in the next couple of hours to confirm her safe arrival.
Now, suddenly, it's just me and Cathy's dog. Relative calm is beginning to settle in.
Comments (1)
What Stella told me last night was that they managed to get two "libras," pounds not kilos, out of Mama Carmela. And she had a large bowel movement on her own today. But she still has enough blockage that the doctors cannot perform a colonoscopy to determine the cause of the blockage.
The reason the doctors don't want to perform surgery except as a last resort is that (1) at 93 years of age, any surgery is a risky endeavor and (2) her lung capacity is greatly diminished.
Anyhow, Cathy has arrived safely, Tila should be there by now, and Mom will arrive later tonight. I need be, I can leave as early as 6 a.m., but I pray that is not necessary.
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