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Nora nodded. “They did scans. One of her tumors has grown larger and is pushing on her blood supply.”
“What do they do? Take it out?”
Nora frowned. “She has an advanced medical directive and a living will. Surgery isn’t an option. They put her on blood thinners, which seems to have restored the blood flow for now.”
“For now? What about later?”
The doors to the ICU opened, and a nurse waved to Nora. “You can come back in.”
“Thank you.”
The woman glanced at me as I followed as well.
“This is Louise’s grandson, Beck,” Nora said. “He just flew in from New York.”
“How nice. Two grandchildren by her side.”
I looked at Nora, who gave me the wide-eyed, lips-pursed signal forshut up.
When we got to the glass-enclosed pod, the nurse motioned to a closed door. “You can go on in. The doctor will be by to speak with you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
My heart felt lodged in my throat as I stepped inside. Gram looked so tiny. So frail. I started to thinkold, too, but she’d kick my ass for that last part, so I didn’t let myself go there.
“Did she lose weight?”
“I’m not sure. But we came straight from swimming, so her hair was wet and she has no makeup on. Plus, she’s not one to lie down and rest, so it seems odd to see her so…” Nora shook her head, and her eyes welled up. “I don’t know. I put the silver glitter headband on her because Louise isn’t Louise without a little sparkle.”
I walked around the bed and put my arm around Nora. “I’m sorry. That was a dumb question. And I’m positive she very much appreciates the headband.”
Nora sniffled. “Do you think she can hear us?”
“I don’t know. I guess we should ask the doctor.”
We got our answer to that question a few minutes later when the ICU attending walked in. He gestured to the door. “Why don’t we speak outside?”
Dr. Cornelius introduced himself and got right to the nitty gritty. “As you know, your grandmother suffered a stroke. There are two main types of strokes: an ischemic stroke, which is caused by the blood supply to the brain being cut off, normally from a blockage; and a hemorrhagic stroke, which is caused by bleeding in the brain. Louise suffered an ischemic stroke caused by a tumor that blocked her carotid artery. Ischemic has a much higher survival rate than hemorrhagic.”
The doctor must’ve read the relief on my face. He held up a hand. “However, normally in these types of strokes, we can remove the obstruction and restore the blood flow to the brain. But your grandmother has made her wishes clear—she does not want any surgical procedures to extend her life. Luckily the blood thinners we’ve given her seemed to have worked.”
“Can she stay on blood thinners long term?”
He nodded. “We’re giving her medication through her stomach right now, but blood thinners can be taken in pill form with relatively few complications.”
“Oh, that’s great,” Nora said.
But something in his tone told me not to breathe a sigh of relief too soon. “What about the tumor?” I asked.
Dr. Cornelius smiled sadly. “I called over to Sloan Kettering in New York to have her last scans sent so I could compare. It’s an aggressive tumor. We can only make her blood so thin. Chances are it will continue to grow and cause another blockage.”
“And then what?”
The doctor looked me in the eye. “She won’t likely survive the next one, son.”
I don’t remember anything anyone said after that—not even the nice words I know Nora spoke as we sat by Gram’s bedside for hours. At some point, the nurse who’d been checking on Gram all night came over to talk to us.
“Hi. They’re going to kick you out soon, when the change of shift starts. The only time visitors aren’t allowed is from five to eight AM. So you two should go home and get some rest. Your grandmother’s body has been through a lot, and she’s likely going to sleep for several hours more. I know you want to be with her, but the most important thing a caretaker can do is take care of themselves. Get some sleep. Eat a healthy breakfast. Then come back.”
