Not Dead Yet

 My ancient suegra is 96 and a half, and I thought this week she'd rejoin her beloved husband in the Great Beyond. Not so fast.

Wifey and I visited last week, and she had taken a downward turn. She was barely responsive to Wifey's questions, and the staff at the ALF said she was barely eating. Sure enough, on Monday they called -- she was going to the ER -- they suspected she might have a UTI, which in the extreme elderly, is often the end. By the time they are caught, the people often become septic, and that's all she wrote.

Monday night they admitted her to the CCU. It was after visiting hours. The nurse practitioner called, and we spoke about DNRs and other end of life issues. Wifey was beside herself -- her blood pressure spiked, and prompted calls to her doctor. As always, my men were there -- Dr. Eric called and said not to worry -- they don't treat BP spikes -- they treat chronic hypertension.

By yesterday am, though, my suegra was actually improving. They had her on IV antibiotics, and fluids. She was more responsive. I dropped Wifey off, at South Miami Hospital, and she visited. Her Mom actually did respond to her.

A nurse spent all the time with her -- wanted to know all about the old lady's life. Although the nurse had a clearly Hispanic last name, turned out she was herself a granddaughter of Holocaust Survivors, and told Wifey she had felt a special connection with my suegra.

The nurse predicted that indeed my suegra would make it out of the hospital, although it was likely time for nursing home care instead of the ALF. The dehydration told her my mother in law was no longer capable of being trusted to feed herself -- a clear demarcation line between ALF and Nursing Home.

Wifey's going to call Patricia today at the Palace, to begin the process of being moved just across the parking lot, from the ALF to Nursing. Hopefully they have a bed. My mother in law has already paid the Palace over $250K over the 4 years she has been there -- I'd like to think she gets a bit of priority.

As I waited in the car for Wifey, it occurred to me how special a place the hospital was. South Miami was where both Ds were born, as were my 2 nephews Scott and Josh. Their mother Donna was a NICU nurse there.

D1 FaceTimed while I was in the car, hoping to catch a glimpse of her grandmother. The beautiful baby was playing and cooing. I showed him the hospital, and told him it was where we had bought his mother and Tia, D2. He cooed more.

I called over to Salvatore D, a favorite restaurant, and a place we haven't visited since the plague started. I ordered Wifey some branzino, and shrimp scampi for myself. I figured Wifey could use a good cheer up meal. It was nice to see Salvatore and his wife Maria -- they're faring well. I joked with them about my friend Norman -- he has done his part to keep them in business with frequent and large orders.

I'm truly OCD. Thinking it was the end for my suegra, I called our rabbi, Yossi, to see if he was in town. Sure enough, I got him about to board a flight to NYC -- to visit his ailing father. Apparently the kids all take turns being with him -- the elder Rabbi has many health issues, too, and Yossi was headed to Crown Heights to spell his sister awhile -- but he would fly right home if needed.

Looks like not just yet. My tough suegra appears ready to live to fight another day.

I was talking with Paul about it -- and shared my dark observation that people seem to either die too early, like my Dad, or too late, like my Mom. The final 4 years for Mom weren't too high quality.

But Paul took issue with that -- and he's correct. We die when the Big Man says -- and that means the time is ALWAYS correct. It appears that Rachel's time is not yet here.