Getting Old Isn’t For Wimps

By: DeAntha Wright Thornburg

When was the last time you walked the halls of an empty hospital corridor after midnight? Or maybe the last time you sat at the bedside of a loved one in a hospital ER after what seemed like the longest drive to the closest cardiologist? It’s now nearly 2 a.m. and they tell you your loved one must rest until morning. They are waiting for the first series of test results to be returned. Until then all we can do is wait.

The nursing staff tells you they will get a room soon. In the meantime, you’re still sitting there watching the monitors count every breath and heartbeat. By this time, you are exhausted. You know you have a family to contact but want to wait until you have more news to share. There you sit in a cold hospital ER watching the nurses rush by the door urgently caring for others.

In the hours leading up to this moment, our day was what some would say was unremarkable. We all have the same chores to do around the house as others. Mow the grass, do the laundry, and all the other mundane responsibilities.

A phone call I made to 911 changed everything last Monday evening. Not an easy call to make, but I knew I couldn’t handle the situation alone. This was the only time I could recall opening my front door and inviting a group of strangers inside without question. The least of my worries was whether my kitchen dishes were done or if there was dust on the bookshelves. I can’t remember how many were there, two, four, six; I must admit I was numb to my surroundings.

We are so very fortunate to live in a small community. My only saving grace in keeping my composure was seeing a familiar face standing there in uniform.  The many unfamiliar faces kept asking me over and over if I was OK. I guess I caught the young men and women off guard. I repeated the signs and symptoms of Tony’s dilemma in a calm defining manner over and over. Each reassured me they would take good care of him.

What put my mind at ease and kept me firmly grounded in all was that one familiar face. You never know how you will react at such a difficult time. But seeing that seasoned veteran on the CFD put everything in perspective. Having worked closely for years with the different police and fire departments in Montgomery County, they have reason to earn my respect for the many hats they wear and the sometimes thankless jobs they do each day.

Officers such as CFD Jim Fulwider, CPD Bob Rivers, Jeff Line, Jeff Largent, MC Sheriff Ryan Needham and more all balance the definition of living in a small-town grand community such as ours.

Thinking back on all the excitement at the house, it seemed like we moved every piece of furniture to bring the gurney inside. I will never know how it fits in the bedroom as they rolled Tony out the front door to the ambulance. I told him to be good to the paramedics and not tell bad jokes.  His parting words as they took him out the front door were, “Don’t forget to bring my hat.”

From my perspective, I refer to such events as the Circles of Life. The past few weeks have been an overwhelming challenge to stay grounded. You are attempting to balance the demands of daily living with the expectations that others place squarely on your shoulders. Sharing that smile and polite conversation with the neighbors across the street. All the while hoping your sunglasses cover your bloodshot eyes from not having any sleep for nearly two days.

I’m not one to openly discuss what ails me or my family. You know you’re getting old when the conversation at the restaurant centers around the aches and pains of aging. Once you pass a certain age, you tend to look at life differently. I look closer at a hummingbird sitting at the feeder by my window. Or maybe it’s watching the wind whisper across the golden grasses of a wheat field.

As a kid, I wondered why grandma had so many pill bottles in the middle of the kitchen table on that round lazy susan.  I understand now that my husband’s pills take up an entire plastic tote on the shelf below his computer.

I’ve never been one to complain or discuss what ails me openly. Oh, I will listen to the aches and pains of others. If sharing their discomfort will ease their own, I will take the time to lend an ear.

It’s 4:30 a.m. on the second night of our stay at IU West. No amount of time or preparation will ever prepare you for what may happen in that Circle of Life. The true blessing of all that Tony has endured is the fact that modern medicine has come so far in the last 50 years. Without the many different medications and procedures, he has had in the last 17 years, he would not be here today.  I am sure many others feel the same. Heart surgery, cancer and transplant programs have allowed all to embrace that Circle of Life with their families as long as possible. Tony has one saying that he shares often.  It’s, “getting old isn’t for wimps.” I know if he’s starts telling bad jokes to his care team he’s feeling better.

-DeAntha Wright-Thornburg worked for the Indiana Department of Transportation for more than 30 years and is also a freelance journalist.