Once I got some horrid news about this precious child I knew. His short life had been a struggle. I remember walking back towards my bedroom. I felt my knees buckle and I went down. (Before that happened, I always thought that my knees buckled under me was just a saying to explain how bad the news was, but I now know that it is an involuntary movement.) That was shock. It strikes suddenly and catches you unawares even when you know it was coming.
But even more crystalized in my thoughts concerning shock was the morning Da died. I called Da’s doctor and got a young resident.
“I am calling to report that my father Joe Todd died this morning.”
The young doctor, “How do you know that he is dead?’
“He has no pulse. He is still warm except his hands are cooler than his body. He is not breathing.” I seemed so calm.
The young doctor said, “You are right he is dead.”
I burst into tears because shock hit me at that moment.
The young doctor apologized and said, “You were handling it so well. Are you okay?”
I sobbed, “Yes, I am. I just had not heard someone else say he was dead.”
Shock hits fast out of nowhere. A person can seem okay and then they are not.
Denial is different. It is like the mythical sirens calling out on the rocky coasts for ships to come. The trouble is the ship that follows those voices will wreck upon the rocks. It is hard to resist that call. Denial, like sirens, beckons you, and if you follow you can pretend it all away. It is simply easier to do that sometimes. You forget that the rocks can trap you.
I am a realist by nature. Ma was practical in all matters of life. When she lost her husband, she picked up her life and moved onward. When her two oldest sons died, she did the same. I have tried to follow her example, but even I have had my moments of denial.
When I became so ill in 2001 that I came close to dying, I refused to face what was right there in the mirror. I was white as death, and I did not see it. “Tomorrow I will be better,” I would tell myself. I had listened to the siren call of denial. I searched my inner self on one very long dark night of the soul. I had my first near death experience. The dead that I loved had gathered around me. I was told I could go with them, but then I heard my mother snore, and I knew that I could not. It took that for me to face the reality that I was dying. I realized what others were seeing. I got help. It was not easy to let go of denial because I had to face the reality that I would die without medical help. It had captured me. I am here today because I broke the bonds denial.
Thoughts on this...
I felt so sorry for that young resident. I hope I did not scar him that he could not deliver bad news to people in the future.
Looking back at my illness, I do not know why I did not listen to the warnings. I got many. The first one I got was between my brother Jimmy's death and my brother Gary's death in 1998. I took a trip in early October to Savannah, Georgia. While there I walked in this beautiful city. I was down on the river walk when I began to feel like I was not going to faint but collapse. I found a bench and sat down. This man stepped over to me and asked did I need to get medical attention. I told him I would be fine. I wasn't fine.
What I had was weird. I had a hiatal hernia that was up in my diaphragm and every time I breathed- I lost blood. On average we breathe 8 times a minute. It took years for me to get down to a dangerous level of hemoglobin. I got six units of blood in 36 hours. I know in my heart of hearts that I am still here for a reason. Denial almost took my life.
These days of grief were difficult, but they are still a gift. I wish we did not walk up to the end of our days before we realize what a gift of life is.
Ever,
Mary Eliabeth Todd
November 30, 2022