Always Here When Needed Award

This is a lovely award. Vic loved butterflies.

The transformation that the butterfly goes through shows a powerful symbolism and likeness to human beings. The different stages, the difficulties, and finally emerging into a beautiful and colorful butterfly which once was an unattractive crawling creature, also shows the power of human beings to surpass challenges, learn, and then eventually soar to greater heights. Just as the butterfly has to go through some not so attractive stages, a person’s life can through similar situations as well, but ultimately, in the end, reach one’s full potential and become majestic and beautiful.The butterflies that we see in our gardens do not only keep the balance of nature, but for some people, they have a higher purpose. They are souls of departed ones who have come to give blessing, or spending time with you as they wait for their turn to pass through purgatory.

Leaving that aside, to comply with the rules of the nomination, I would like to thank Lucinda Elliot for the award. Lucinda, a published author, writes and lives in mid Wales. She likes gothic, dystopias, historical and steampunk. She has a superb sense of humour and has the ability to make her words “dance”. Lucinda’s blog is beautifully written and can be found on http://sophieandemile.wordpress.com

Five things that make me happy.

My grandchildren and husband
Drinking tea
Walking on the beach
Working
Stepping Stone Hospice

This is so difficult as I have so many wonderful friends who are always there for me. I have taken the five people who comment most on my blog.

Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for your kind words of support. Thank you for caring. Thank you for always being here when I need you.

The Loyal Reader Award

I received this award from my good friend Shaun@ http://prayingforoneday.wordpress.com Shaun is really a great friend and supporter. Recently Shaun and his partner Dawn did a post on Vic and I. http://prayingforoneday.wordpress.com/2013/06/29/great-bloggersfriends-5-vic-tersia-tersia-burger/ I was so humbled by the beautiful gesture. Shaun honours Vic’s memories… My first post Shaun ever read was the day Vic died. Since then Shaun has truly become a pillar of strength to me. Thank you Shaun and Dawn for your compassionate caring and support! You deserve to receive this award as well…from me!

The rules are simple, because simple is good.

1. Display the award on your blog.

2. Thank the person who sent it to you.

3. Answer a rhetorical question of the authors choosing.

4. Send on the award to everyone you consider a loyal reader.

Rhetorical Question:

If you were on a deserted island, how would you survive? I wouldn’t. I need electricity, warm water, tea and a bed! I would also need litres of insect repellent! I am a creature of comfort!

Loyal readers who read my blog and speak back – in no particular order:

The people I selected make a great effort to read my blog and leave comments. PLEASE, visit all their blogs, they are amazing people, writers and bloggers.

Disruptions: Medicine That Monitors You – NYTimes.com

An amazing post!!!! It feels as if is a hoax! I would love to hear your thoughts on it!

Chaka’s Rock 2013

2011 – Vic at Chaka’s 2013 – Vic’s place is empty 1

Vic back at Chaka’s Rock – 2013

A Mother’s Love for her Sons

A year ago I posted this. As I said in my previous post – Chaka’s 2012 is a separate story. I am reposting the separate story…

I have been researching the effect of a mother’s illness on her children. The boys are two beautiful, well-adjusted, honest and compassionate young men. Vic’s illness has certainly deprived them of a childhood in the true sense of the word and prematurely matured them into compassionate, caring, young men far too early in life. At the tender age of thirteen Jared was cooking for the family… This must certainly have an effect on how the boys perceive relationships with people.

Now according to my research the boys have become what is called ‘parentified’ children. These children solve the problem of sick and inadequate parenting by taking care of their

parents. They in effect become parents to their parents, giving to the sick parent what they need from the parent. Now the roles are reversed. This seemingly creative solution is unfortunately too self-sacrificing to be healthy in the long run.

“‘Parentified’ sons who take care of their sick mothers in order to cope with their inability to parent, struggle to suppress obvious needs for love and feelings of loss. They learn to work hard taking care of the needs of others and living off of the scraps that come in the form of reinforcements for their competence and reliability. Their needs for love are overlooked and overshadowed by everyone else’s needs.” The boys, especially Jared, falls into this category 100%. When his little girlfriend was hit in the eye by a hockey ball, he immediately went into caregiving mode, At the time I thought it to be extremely unhealthy that he already has this caregiving character trait. He used to always make the tea and offer to do so much around the house and for his Mom.

I have put a stop to this. I pray it is not too late for the boys to adjust to a “normal” household…

It is however important for them to realize that death is a part of the circle of life and that it is not something dark and something to be feared but rather, if happening in a timely fashion, something that one can embrace. The boys appreciate and respect Vic as their mother. Vic has raised her sons to be respectful.

“The power of a mother’s strength comes from her heart, from her unabashed, unconditional, and unwavering love for her child. There is, as J.K. Rowling wrote in her Harry Potter books, a magic in that love. No matter what happens, a mother is always there for her child. A mother’s love is never to be questioned, and – though she may not know it at first – neither is her strength.”

Vic literally rose from her deathbed to be there for Jared with his operation on Wednesday. When my Mom died I related her final moments to someone jumping from a diving board into a deep pool, reaching the bottom and kicking to rise to the surface of the water for one more breath… only to sink again. This is what Vic does.

Before Jared was wheeled into theatre he whispered into his mom’s ear. She took his hand and said “I promise”.

Vic, drip in hand, walking with Jared to theater!

The surgeon said the operation would last two hours. Vic dutifully went back to bed and rested. One hour and forty-five minutes later she was, IV drip in hand, standing outside the theatre door, waiting for her son. I begged her to at least sit on the chair, but she refused. “Mommy, I promised Jared my face would be the first thing he sees when he comes out of theatre!”

It took a superhuman effort, but Vic’s love for her son drove her to keep her word. It is true that no mother wants her child to suffer in any way, but life is unfair like that. So, we as mother’s do what we can to provide support, comfort, and protection. And we grow strong enough to bear their hurt as well as our own. As Vic did. As I do. Motherhood cuts deeply, brings you to your knees most days; but it also brings a strength that may surprise you.

The vicious cycle of anger truly rose to the occasions on Wednesday. I got angry with Vic because she was not putting her health first! I KNOW I would have done the same but it was terrible seeing my child do herself harm to be a Mother. I want to wrap her in cotton so she would be spared that extra day…

Yesterday Vic said she doubted whether she would see the end of the year. She is however adamant to be at Jared’s confirmation…one more goal…

Go Girl!!!

Well, Vic is home. I am so grateful. She is conceding that she is too sore and ill to go to hospital…Saturday Jared comes home!!

Chaka’s Rock and bittersweet memories….

Chaka’s Rock is a quaint coastal town on the North Coast of Kwa Zulu Natal.

We have come to Chaka’s for the past 22 years. Vic loved Chaka’s with a passion and always said that she started missing Chaka’s from the second we packed up until we set foot here the following year.

Through every possible circumstance Vic made her way to Chaka’s – with the exception of 2012. Last year she said “Mommy, I am not going to make it to Chaka’s this year…”

In 2007 Vic had 18 abdominal surgeries. She developed septicaemia and contracted every superbug in the book. She was on life support on more than one occasion. Her kidneys and lungs failed. Vic developed an intestinal fistula. It was a high output fistula and she lost up to 7 litres of fecal matter through the fistula daily. The poor poppet walked around with a machine that acted as a “catchment” for the fecal matter. Vic was on TPN (Total Parental Nutrition) and not allowed to eat anything. Her stomach had a gaping wound with fecal matter pouring out of a hole in the intestine.

Vic spent the majority of the year in hospital and reached a stage where she appeared to be like a “lamb being led to slaughter”. It was such a concern to us that she appeared to have lost her will to live.

Vic at Chaka's Rock - getting ready to have TPN line changed. — Vic at Chaka’s Rock – getting ready to have TPN line changed.

Chaka 2007 — Vic in the lounge of the chalet.

It was such a tough decision to make whether we should discharge Vic from hospital to make the trip or not. The doctors had different views on whether we should go or not. Two of them felt it would be emotionally uplifting for her to go and a third thought we were “absolutely nuts!” I am so grateful that we decided to go ahead with our annual pilgrimage, as Vic was able to spend such precious time with us. Even the bad weather worked in our favour and we spend wonderful days playing Bingo and Trivial Pursuit.

It was extremely difficult to manage Vic’s health in accommodation other than a hospital. Changing the TPN was a sterile procedure.

On Friday morning, the 29th of June 2007, Vic collapsed was admitted to the ICU at the Albert Luthuli Hospital in Chaka’s Rock. Vic was transferred back to the Donald Gordon Hospital by ambulance on the Saturday afternoon.

In a “Get better soon” card that her boys wrote her after our little holiday they thanked her for the most wonderful holiday ever! Certainly, we had had “better” holidays in our lives but the time that we spent together was so precious.

Vic was only released from the Intensive Care Unit of the Donald Gordon Hospital on the 23^rd of July 2007.

In 2010 I only spent a weekend in Chaka’s with Vic and the boys as I had to fly to the Middle East on business. . Lee drove the boys back and Vic flew home. This is an excerpt out of an email Vic sent me…

“Hi Mommy, boys are great… We had such a great evening last and day today… Jared had Tyron over to visit. We all miss Mommy already!!!! We really hope it goes well there!!! We are all holding thumbs and saying big prayers… Battling with the authorisation for the pain Infusion still. I think I broke another vertebrae on the flight back from Chaka’s. We had a bumpy landing and I am battling to breathe from the pain… I think it’s two above the last fracture. Can’t believe how much I miss Mommy already. We are all trying to think up a name for Gramps’ new puppy… J-D is still sulking, because I won’t carry her around like Gramp’s does. Can you believe it? Jared said that when we were all in Chaka’s, she didn’t need legs as Gramps’ just carries her everywhere. And I don’t know what she was eating at Moms’ but I know it wasn’t her food, she refuses to eat it, she was so spoilt Jared reckons she lived on sweets and Gramps’ food… I wish we were all still in Chaka’s, it was really great to spend the time with Mommy…

Vic in 2012…well, that is a different post….

I Grieve – Peter Gabriel

it was only one hour ago

it was all so different then

there’s nothing yet has really sunk in

looks like it always did

this flesh and bone

it’s just the way that you would tied in

now there’s no-one home

i grieve for you

you leave me

‘so hard to move on

still loving what’s gone

they say life carries on

carries on and on and on and on

the news that truly shocks is the empty empty page

while the final rattle rocks its empty empty cage

and i can’t handle this

i grieve for you

you leave me

let it out and move on

missing what’s gone

they say life carries on

they say life carries on and on and on

life carries on

in the people i meet

in everyone that’s out on the street

in all the dogs and cats

in the flies and rats

in the rot and the rust

in the ashes and the dust

life carries on and on and on and on

life carries on and on and on

it’s just the car that we ride in

a home we reside in

the face that we hide in

the way we are tied in

and life carries on and on and on and on

life carries on and on and on

did I dream this belief?

or did i believe this dream?

now i can find relief

i grieve

–Peter Gabriel

Mandela and the wrath of his forefathers….

An evening visit to the designated gravesite of Nelson Mandela, prayers for forgiveness to the ancestral forefathers and the tribal elders travelling to Pretoria to be with South Africa’s greatest hero is just some of the drama surrounding Nelson Mandela’s imminent passing.

The gravesite is situated about 500 metres from Mandela’s Qunu residence and is reserved for the Mandela family.

It has been reported that elders in the Mandela family visited the family gravesite in Qunu, on Tuesday evening, to plead for forgiveness from their ancestors for exhuming the bodies of family members in 2011 by Mandla – the favourite grandson. It is tribal custom that gravesites are either visited early in the morning or late in the afternoon.

The elders are furious with former president Nelson Mandela’s grandson Mandla for digging up the remains of his father Makgatho and his father’s two siblings, Makaziwe and Thembekile, and moving them to Mandela’s birthplace Mvezo. The elders have advised the family that “the Mandelas are being punished through making their beloved son (Nelson Mandela) suffer in hospital where he remains in great pain and anguish”. The elders visited the gravesite to plead for their ancestral forefather’s forgiveness and to seek advice as what to do during this difficult time.

The elders in the Mandela family have attributed Mandela’s ill health and constant hospitalization for a lung infection to the “wrath of the ancestors”.

The “wrath” was caused by the fact that Mandla Mandela, the Mvezo chief, removed the remains without consulting anyone.

Elders with knowledge of AbaThembu traditions and customs told the family that this had angered the forefathers which resulted in a curse being put on the Mandela family, by the ancestors.

City Press reported that after the meeting it was decided that elders – men only – should visit the gravesite to appeal to the ancestors to spare Mandela from suffering. Mandla did not go to the family gravesite where the elders had gone to plead with the ancestors.

It was decided at the gravesite that a delegation would visit Mandela in hospital.

“I will be going to see Tata (Father) in hospital. He cannot be alone at this hour of need. He needs AbaThembu and his family next to him,” Mtirara, an elder, said.

South Africa has such a diverse society. One of the greatest problems that face the nation in their religious walk, whatever that may be, is that the tribes revert to their dead for advice in the time of a crisis. On Sundays people will attend church and praise and worship God for hours. Six days a week, they will consult the forefathers or their spokesmen, if they have a crisis…

Superstition and witchcraft is rife in South Africa. Witchdoctors or Traditional Healers is acknowledged as a profession ….some medical aids even pay for their services. Companies have to accept a “sick note” from a Traditional Healer, who has no formal medical training.

Outside the Heart Hospital in Pretoria thousands of people have gathered singing hymns and burning candles in prayer for our beloved Madiba. Elsewhere the bones are being cast and rituals to appease the forefathers are being performed.

In the words of Mandla Mandela “At the end of the day, my grandfather’s fate, like that of everyone else, lies with God and our ancestors”

The prayer/request is the same. “Please end Madiba’s suffering. Allow him to die the way he lived…..with dignity.”

http://www.iol.co.za/sundayindependent/undermining-the-mandela-legacy

http://www.citypress.co.za/news/exclusive-mandela-elders-visit-qunu-grave/

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

Morning Story and Dilbert

Note for the MS&D Side Bar: If you enjoy Morning Story and Dilbert
 you will like "Suspended Coffee".  
  It's full of real life uplifting stories.... 
   Kenny  T

Wishing to encourage her young son’s progress on the piano, a mother took her boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted an old friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked ”NO ADMITTANCE.”

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing. Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage.
In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out “Twinkle, Twinkle Little…

View original post 192 more words

Bickering, Fighting and Death….

Why is it that at the time of death arguments and strife will prevail?

Whilst one of the world’s greatest statesmen, Nelson Mandela, is fighting for his life – his family is bickering… They are bickering about the burial site of the Rainbow Nation’s Icon, their father and grandfather.

The family are torn between Nelson Mandela’s favorite grandson Mandla, who wants him buried at his Mvezo birthplace, and the rest of the family, who feel that his wish to be buried next to his children should be respected.

The chieftain had moved the remains of his father Makgatho, who died of an Aids-related illness in 2005; his aunt Makaziwe, who died in 1948 at only nine months; and uncle Thembekile, who was killed in a car accident in 1969, to Mvezo. This is making it impossible for Madiba to be buried next to his children because they are buried in Mvezo. Mandela is going to be buried in Qunu. . Mvezo is the birthplace and the traditional home of the Mandelas, and thereby lies its historic and heritage significance. Qunu is the rural home of Nelson Mandela.

So whilst this brave warrior is edging closer to death his family have to make decisions that may rip the family apart.

Mandela often quoted Henley’s poem, Invictus (Unconquered)

“Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the Shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.”

“The passage towards death is a difficult journey,” an ANC activist told Channel 4 News. “This country needs to celebrate his life, rather than let his death become a source of conflict. There is thing that we all unite on: all of us love Mandela. This nation will sink into deep mourning when he finally leaves us, no matter how prepared we think we might have been.”

Will the Mandela family unite in this time of sorrow or will they bring dishonour to this icon’s name?

In the meantime, South Africans are united in prayer. United in our desire for this amazing man to be allowed to die with dignity. That his family will behave with dignity and decorum…. Make Nelson Mandela proud….

Hero to Zero – one year ago….

A year ago I posted this… I remember Vic’s screams of pain, the agony on her precious face, the raw fear in her eyes.

Vic basking in the winter sun!

Sunday was an amazing day. Lorraine, my sister, came to visit and it was great having adult company that discussed more than pain control, bowel movements and vomiting.

Lorraine moved a chair into the sun for Vic. Vic sat basking in the winter sun sipping lots of coffee. In true form, Vic on her occasional good day, pulled the dam from under the duck. She was like a little jack-in-the-box. Needless to say, I was a spoil sport as I kept begging her to slow down…She did at 15:00 when she literally crashed.

Vic sobbed from pain and my poor sister wasreduced to tears. She is not used to facing the raw pain of a terminally ill patient who breaks through her pain threshold!

Vic dozed on and off but kept waking from the pain. Maybe she took some extra painmeds because she seemed disoriented? Both Danie and Lorraine expressed their concerns that she seemed to have totally lost track of time and events…

Sunday afternoon the boys came home after spending the weekend with their Dad. Danie took Jared and Kirsten, (Jared’s girlfriend), to church. Vic kept trying to get out of bed. She is so darn stubborn. She hardly ate any dinner so I gave her anti-nausea tablets and only half her normal pain medication. She kept getting out of bed. She would just not stay in bed.

I got so angry with her that I said I would fetch Jared from church. I needed to remove myself from the situation. Lorraine said “let me stay with Vic” and I said “No! Come with me”

Minutes after dropping Kirsten off at home I had a phone call from Danie telling me that Vic had a bad fall…

At home she was lying in a crumpled little heap full of blood and screaming from pain. Jon-Daniel, bless his heart, was lying next to her on the bed trying to comfort her. Vic went hysterical when I said I was phoning an ambulance.

“No Mommy, No!!! No ambulance! No ambulance”

We agreed that we would try to get her to hospital in my car. Jared half carried her out to the car and then the drama began. We could not swing her legs into the car! She was screaming with agony.

I phoned the ambulance service but when they arrived it was obvious that they could not lift her onto the spine board and/or bed. Eventually we repositioned Vic in the car. Jared sat behind her and cradled her in his arms. The ambulance escorted us to the hospital.

At the hospital it took at least 15 minutes before the Trauma and Medics staff decided how to move her into the Trauma Dept. Vic screamed and screamed with pain! From 21.30 to 03:00 they x-rayed and scanned Vic. Most of the x-rays were done in the Trauma section. Vic’s pupils were very dilated and she was VERY confused so they also ran a CT Scan.

Vic in ER

If I was ever given the opportunity to erase 30 minutes from my life it would be the 30 minutes that it took to move Vic from the ER bed onto the scanning table and back, straightening her legs and forcing her to lie on her back…she screamed and cried “Mommy help me, Mommy!!! Mommy!! Mommy help me!!!”

The diagnosis – “impacted fracture of proximal metaphysis of right humerus”. Vic was admitted to the orthopedic ward and scheduled for surgery today. The orthopod decided that she is too frail and the risk of the sepsis spreading from the spine and abdomen to the arm, too great, for him to “pin” the arm. So Vic’s arm is in a sling and will mend, albeit crooked, eventually on it’s own. She also has a displaced fracture of the fibula, posterior malleolus, (I believe these are all ankle fractures and Lanie, a physiotherapist says if she had to choose a fracture it would be these fractures), an avusion fracture of the calcaneus and several vertebrae …The spine…well what is to do? Pain control, bed rest… Oh, did I mention that the staff had mobilized Vic and she had WALKED on her broken ankle because no-one read the X-ray reports??? I only picked it up when I read the reports this afternoon!!!! I had to report it to the nursing staff!

I would like to point out that this is in a Private Hospital….can you imagine what happens in Government Hospitals?

I am so angry with myself. This happened because I got angry with Vic. I should have stayed with her and not reneged my Caregiving duty. I should have had been there to bulldoze my stubborn child into remaining in bed. My temper has caused Vic endless, unbearable pain. Who knows how long it will take her to recover from this trauma…if she indeed ever recovers from this! I will never forgive myself for this!

Well with the bad comes the good as well. We have dreaded Jared’s surgery on Wednesday as we know Vic would have insisted on trying to sit at hospital all day. Actually, the whole week! Problem solved. She is too sore to move… And will more than likely still be in hospital on Wednesday.

The nurses just changed her bed linen and she screamed with pain! How are we going to take care of Vic at home? My sister offered to come through but two qualified nursing staff could not move her without causing major distress. She also cannot walk and needs to be “bed-cared” for. …bed baths etc, etc, etc

For the first time, ever, I am at a loss. I am so tired. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Vic, embedded in my heart and a building’s cement

Today the concrete foundation was laid of our Stepping Stone Hospice’s building.

It was a “moment” when I saw the concrete being poured. The builder, bless his soul, ordered extra cement and we now have a veranda area as well as a concrete path where our patients will leave our building for the last time… We also received a donation of a oxygenator.

I asked the builder if I could put a photo of Vic’s into the foundation of the building. He thought it was a wonderful idea. I phoned the boys, and they brought me their favorite photos of Vic and I. We placed it in plastic sleeves and embedded it in the foundation. It was covered with concrete.

Vic has been immortalised in the foundation of Stepping Stone Hospice.

Perhaps because Vic was cremated, it was an emotional moment for all of us seeing her being “buried” in cement. I know it was purely symbolic, but it was sad.

The boys and I huddled together and wept.

One day less

I am glad the day is over. I am grateful that I am one day closer to being reunited with my precious child.

Tonight I fulfilled one more of Vic’s wishes.

Twenty five years ago Vic was the bridesmaid at my brother and sister-in-laws wedding. She looked beautiful in a real grown-up pink dress… They gave her a string of perfect little pearls which she treasured and wore on very special occasions.

After Vic died I came across the string of pearls with a little note.

The note read: “25 years ago Johan and Henda gave me these because I was their bridesmaid. I would like to now return it to them…”

She wrote them a note telling them how much she loved them. She told my brother that he was her hero. She told my sister-in-law that she was amazing….