Summer: Room 234

8/18/10
Hi Everyone,

Before the main point of my post, I thought I'd put in something about my sister.  Many of you have asked what kind of work my sister does, and often, you think she's super awesome.  Normally, I try and explain the stuff she does and I usually don't do her justice.  But she actually has written a pretty good post about why she enjoys her work and the kinds of things she encounters.  I thought I would share her blog post with you.

What my sister does in her own words!

Now for Room 234:

In Room 234 of Northeast Baptist Hospital lies my grandfather, my last grandparent.  He was hospitalized on Tuesday for, essentially, kidney problems.  My grandfather who is quick and sharp, dextrous and creative, was reduced to poor mentation and for once, caged in his body.

I know my grandfather as a man who lost a scholarship and was kicked out of school for playing jazz.  He is the first doctor and only surgeon in our family.  He invents delicious recipes often doing things like: making pasta from scratch, making panetone--a traditional Italian sweet bread that takes all day to make, and baking bread bread bread!  He even built an outdoor oven so that he could bake bread and pizza (and who knows what else) in his backyard.

He is a builder and creator--making his own exercise machines, building beds and sliding shelves in his pantry along with the best hydrolic pan holder thing-a-ma-jig.

Seeing him weak and frail was not as difficult as I thought.  After all, he is 90-something (95 I think).  He has had a long, good life filled with friends and family, Italian groups and church.  He has 4 children (but raised 5), 11 grandchildren, and 3 great-grandchildren.  I'm pretty sure the Scavone name won't be dying out anytime soon.

But what is the most difficult, is seeing someone, usually so sharp, mentally debilitated.  When he doesn't remember your name, or when he can't remember his relation to you, is...difficult.  He looks at you with confused eyes, somewhat glazed over.  Empty.  He is empty, not there inside his cornflower blue eyes.  He has a vacant smile, sometimes a slight grimace as he struggles to surface, struggles to understand what is going on around him.

UPDATE (8/23/10):  So, my grandfather is still pretty sick, but he's doing much better on dialysis.  I'm not too sure of his prognosis, but I think I'll be okay when he goes.  He's had a long, full life.  I'm just glad that the dialysis improves his brain function.  It's too painful to see intellectual people (or anyone really) loose that part of themselves.  I've seen it in my aunt (although she's fine now) and I think it's one of the worst weaknesses/illnesses to witness in a person.

Sorry for the long post!  I start writing on one day, and then don't finish until another...so, sorry!

In my world...study study study!

I miss everyone and hope everyone is doing well, wherever you are.