small miracles

So this happened. I got the call from Jeanne that Aunt Grace went to the hospital today with severe chest pains. Aunt Grace will be 93 in May; her heart is functioning at about 10%; she lives in New Joy Sea, while Jeanne is now in Florida for the winter and I am in Pete Townsend.

A year ago this would have sent me into a state of action. I would have been on my way to the hospital. I would have been agonizing over home care for Aunt Grace (she says she won't have anybody "living" with her when perhaps all she needs is some help during the day) or assisted living (she knows she needs to go and even thinks it's a good idea for her social opportunities but is fiercely stubborn and does not want to leave her home of 20 some years). I would have been calling Aunt Marie to let her know, lest she ream me another one like she did several years ago under similar circumstances.

But tonight the only action I could accomplish was to call my New Joy Sea siblings (and Aunt Marie) and let them know. There wasn't anything they could do tonight anyway - there's a major nor'easter and lots of snow. But I made the calls. Neither Jeanne nor I could much stomach the idea of Aunt Grace alone in a hospital, since we both know she suffers from sundowning, really bad. She gets very disoriented in the hospital, and though she's still pretty sharp for a woman her age, and though she knows that she's hallucinating when it happens, it is a really bad scene.

One small miracle: I wasn't freaking out. I wasn't planning an emergency trip out east. I did have one brief moment of wondering whether I would be able to finish the Master Gardener training, and that was selfish, but understandable.

Second small miracle: a half hour after informing my siblings, I got a call from my brother, who was braving the weather and heading out to the hospital. I was moved and grateful. Jeanne's relief was palpable when I told her.

So who knew? My brother is a hero of sorts. And I will say it just this once: it's about time.