My gyn decided that the time had come for me to have a mammogram. Yes, she needed more information about the infamous boob. It was relatively easy to make an appointment. I had to email the prescription because I could not read it; however, this worked to my advantage because I forgot the hard copy when going to the appointment.
If you think that a medical professional has medical billers, that scenario is nothing compared to the department of a hospital. An entire fleet of offices were front and center to handle proper payment with regards to the different procedures. There was a handprint machine and a nice yellow bracelet in addition to the beeper. The waiting room in the radiology department was quite comfortable and not overcrowded. I was taken to the special room rather promptly and had a lovely conversation with my assigned tech. She was very apologetic whenever she had to place the boob in an uncomfortable position. There was a lot of pulling and placing. I never felt any pain or discomfort. It was strange to have a small glass table machine pressing against something that is normally covered; however, it was a decent experience. As I left the hospital, a smile crossed my face.
My boob inspection was complete.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
There I was wrestling with the idea of spending the evening at my parents’ home. My mother was alone in the house while my father was in the nursing home. She was spending all of her waking hours attending to him. I had the idea of spending the night with her; however, I wanted to stay in my home and enjoy my activities. It was late at night when I graced her porch with my presence. The sofa soon comforted my sleepiness.
Friday, June 6, 2014
After a nice breakfast with my mother, I headed into work to wrap up all affairs prior to going on vacation. Why I even joined a friend for breakfast part II at IHOP. I told her how I wanted to get some friends to go to the nursing home to perform with me for my dad. Soon after this conversation, my mother called to inform me that my father was unresponsive and was being rushed to Jackson South which was next door to the nursing home. I had just left her home and now faced the task of getting back to the same area with traffic. As I entered the room where a team was scurrying, there were tubes inside of him and his eyes were closed. I hated to see how he just hung there being as if he were being tossed about but it was my intent to stay right there and watch.
When I was born, I was taken from my mother due to placenta previa. My father had to wait and watch helplessly as my life was in limbo. Insurance companies refused to insure me, and I was not expected to live. He said that my godmother continued to tell him not to lose hope because God would pull me through; that scene took place 37yrs ago. It was with this in mind that I sat there and watched no matter the circumstances.
Family friends soon pulled me away as it was determined that Daddy had suffered a massive stroke and would have to be sent to Baptist where a team was awaiting his arrival. I got in my car and drove. While we waited in a suite, groups of the church sister hood flocked in to surround my mother as they have from the day Daddy went under. The doctor informed us that the stroke did not take place that morning but approximately 9hrs ago based on the damage that he saw and there had been more than one. It was the same way that his father passed away. Daddy would be removed from life support 24hrs after being placed on it in accordance with his wishes. We waited. We prayed.
Saturday, June 6, 2014
I thought that my Daddy would die on this day. For me, he had already left us something Thursday evening. It was now left to the body to realize what had happened. Others left the room when the respiratory therapist finally arrived to remove the tubes. I shook her hand and thanked her for removing the very things that my father never wanted. I made myself comfortable next to a nurse friend of the family, as the therapist did what she had to do. The noises were not pleasant for me, but I would not leave. Daddy never left me.
It was another four days of painful limbo for everyone involved in the transition of my father. During this time, the overwhelming support of the sisterhood that envelopes my mother to this day stood by within reach. It brings tears to my eyes to watch these women support my mother as she mourned the loss of my father.
Daddy was officially pronounced early Wednesday morning. It was a great relief for me to know that he had finally expired. In the days that followed, I found great comfort in planning the music for the funeral and its associated events. The outpouring of love & support was wonderful. There were so many wonderful connections for me to celebrate and enjoy. People told me that watching me gave them a sense of comfort as they wondered how I was able to remain so composed. This is my response.
My father is not dead. The word dead insinuates a final period which simply does not exist for me. He has made his transition into the next lifetime where he gets to be with God and walk with his father; he loved that man more than life itself. While I am unable to speak to him physically, Daddy has never left my side. His body may be in the ground but his spirit is free. It brings me such happiness to know that now there are two strong male figures that support me as ancestors. Instead of being sad, I choose to celebrate his life and often speak of him as if he were right here with me because he is. He lived a long wonderful life and touched more people than what we knew as evidenced by the tributes and sacrifices that were made to be present as he transitioned.
As life continues to take its course, things will slowly resume to a normal pace. A life cycle has completed itself as another one will begin. It is a beautiful day. It is a beautiful life.
James W. Sawyer
Sunrise: 12/22/34 Sunset: 6/11/14
Well done, good and faithful servant!
You have been faithful with a few things.
I will put you in charge of many things.
My bed was consuming me for a while as the time crept closer towards my performing in West Palm Beach. When the phone rang, I saw that it was my brother. He informed me that our mother had been rushed to Baptist Hospital. I knew that I was going to have to go there whether or not I could still make the wedding. In a complete teary flurry, I dressed and loaded for the performance. As I breathed, I took control of the task at hand. Baptist was at least 30 minutes south of me and it was now my job to get there in one piece. As my Element took the 826, my friends began to pray.
My brother was there in her room. He stood so very tall in his six feet with his large gray shirt. He was in Weston on his way to work when he had to turn around for Kendall. Our father was asleep with sciatic pain. As the doctor spoke to my mother, I took the opportunity to paint my face. I greeted my concerned father. When my mother saw me, she voiced her happiness over my appearance. She felt very lucky to have her entire family around her. The little room was cramped with love. Friends and live prayer soon streamed in to round us out.
The traffic from Baptist Hospital to West Palm Beach was fair. I arrived in no time and was able to complete the entire performance with little distraction. My mind was more at ease after seeing my mother. Apparently, she passed out in front of her home and her friend dialed 911. Because the attending doctor does not know the cause of the problem, he has asked her to stay in observation over night as a precaution.
After the wedding, I went home to refresh myself and have a meal. I figured that there was no sense in me spreading myself thin with worry. It would only upset my mother and possibly compromise my already troubled system. As I greeted my mother for the second time today, she was overcome with surprise. She did not expect to see me after my performance. I stayed with her as long as I could before escaping the hospital grounds in search of slumber.
Somehow I managed to end up in the prayer garden. There was a fountain in front of lovely benches. The chapel windows had stain glass windows that shined in the light. The hour was late and yet I still found myself stealing some moments on the benches in front of the fountain. I imagined angels surrounding me there with encouragement and light.
My Sunday was scheduled to be a busy one. It has been cleared of all responsibilities. It is important for me to take some time to understand this moment for everything that is has brought to me. People of various faiths prayed for me and my mother today. My family came together to uplift our mother. Friends from near and far came to stand beside their beloved sister. There is power in love and unity. I want to take the time to understand all of these things.