Time For Memories

Hello Kast Family,

It’s been a while since I have posted. Like all of you I am enjoying the change of season. The warmer days, even if wet at times, the green grass, the spring flowers. It’s a beautiful time of year, and busy too. Time to open the windows, let the winter air out and the spring time come in. So nice to see the sun at last and look forward to the days ahead.

Work is busy. I am not complaining (actually I am, but not too much) …. I am fortunate to be in a field that needs people. I know many of you are having or are facing difficult times. Did we ever think we would see these kind of days? Days I remember my parents talking about. But, the hope is that we will all make it through these times and prosper like they did. And make the best of what we have now and cherish what we have.

This has been a difficult year for me for many reasons. Almost two years ago, when I joined the Parents Support Group they said, the second year is the worst. I didn’t believe them. How could it be, it couldn’t be worse than right then. But, I’ve learned a lot. In the second year, the numbness goes away. The awareness creeps in and the reality becomes almost overwhelming at times. The thoughts start….. two years ago at this time, this was happening, that was happening……..what if I had done this different, or said this instead of that…………. How could it be two years? We all have days like that for many reasons. I just wish I had a different reason.

I realize I’m getting older, things are happening that tell me that, aches and pains and other yukky stuff. After all these years of nursing I am finally having some back problems. I think I’m lucky it didn’t happen years ago, but it’s still not fun. Finally had an xray and the doctor said, you need some physical therapy…… Oh, great, who’s got time for that!………but you make time……….except I knew what it meant. So I made my appointment and showed up for the first session.

I pulled in to the parking lot of the outpatient rehab………and it was not an easy thing to do. I could almost see the van sitting there………..in the back a figure, sitting in a wheelchair waiting while Jason the driver put down the tailgate and pulled the chair back and lowered it to the ground. Three days a week we went there. In the door and up to the desk and then in to the therapy rooms. I took a deep breath, could I go in, could I face that place, the place where Kerrie went every week? Where she worked so hard to stand, to reach, to bend, to walk, to speak.

In I went, it looked the same, but no familiar faces. New staff……….whew…….and then I saw the director. “HI, Hey, how are you!”…… Kim, now Director of OP Rehab……..the same Kim who was manager of the inpatient rehab at NOMC and managed to get Kerrie there, even though she probably should have been in a different type of unit. The same Kim who said to me “we take care of our own”. The same Kim who blew HFH out of it’s mind with the way she coordinated the care that Ker got when she went to NOMC.

And then I had to go in that room. And there it was, the steps. Kerrie’s steps. The ones she climbed with so much difficulty and pride. The ones that meant she was ‘getting better”. The ones that meant she would be able to get upstairs to her room. But, the memory that hits me the most is what had happened that last day she had therapy. I was getting her up and dressed and ready to go and she looked at me and said “I’m not getting better”. Oh, Kerrie, yes you are, you’re doing great, what do you mean, you’re so much better. I went with her to rehab and told  Tim, her therapist, what she said. He told her he’d prove she was better. And he took her to the steps and she walked up both sides and down and they got to the bottom and he said, “look Kerrie, what you did and I’m not even sweating this time. You did it yourself. You are getting better.” My phone rang just then. It was the hospital. I didn’t answer it. I waited. When we got home, I talked to Ker. I said, hey you’ll be upstairs in a few weeks. You’re going to do it! We’ll figure out how to get down when the time comes.  We’ll just bump down the steps if we have to …. it’ll work!

Than I called the hospital back, and they said ” things aren’t right, she needs to come back in the morning. And I had to tell her and she cried. And my heart broke.

It took me two years………and I relived that day once again………and it hit me. She knew…….. when she said she wasn’t getting better, I thought she meant her rehab……….I finally knew……….she was trying to tell me she was sick again….. and I didn’t listen, because I didn’t want to hear………. and Kerrie, I am so sorry I didn’t hear you……….so sorry I didn’t comfort you and tell you it was ok………so sorry I made you go out when we could have stayed home and been together and just rested….. so sorry I didn’t hear what you were trying to tell me……………….that you were sick and didn’t want to do all those things…………

So, Kast Family, it’s not over yet, not for us. And I thank you for still being there, for letting us know you haven’t forgotten us and Kerrie. One of the things that we talked about last month at the support meeting was how things change after the first year. The friends of our children don’t call or visit like they did at first. People assume that you’ve gotten over your grief and stop asking how you are or stop talking about your child. But that’s not so. We all agree that there is nothing else we’d rather talk about than our child and nothing we want more then to keep that memory alive. That’s why I am so thankful that all of you are out there, still checking in, still writing posts, still saying hi and letting me and Jenn and Ron and Steve know that you remember and care. I can’t tell you how much it means and how much I appreciate and love all of you.

Take care, Happy Mothers Day to all you moms

Love You All

Joan