And Now, the Going Gets Tough

You all remember Mrs. Carolyn, right? Good friend of my parents, currently deep in a coma at Brookwood Hospital?

Her family has come to a very tough decision. They're praying it's the right thing.

If you recall, the second neurologist came by and told them that he saw no brain activity on the scans that he did. That by itself is enough to cause immense panic in some people. Mr. Randy, of course, took it hard. This is his wife we're talking about. He's not doing well at all. If she dies, he may be soon to follow.

Anyways, the Hammonds have decided to start weaning Mrs. Carolyn off of life support.

Maybe she'll wake up as it lessens. Maybe she'll recover. Maybe things will get better.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's all a stretch at the moment.

And of course, Mr. Randy is still blaming himself for all of this. "If I'd only noticed sooner," he repeats, over and over again like a mantra. (You see, Mrs. Carolyn wasn't hooked up to any monitors, because the recovery from this surgery should have been routine, with nothing life-threatening happening. So Mrs. Carolyn said, "I'm slipping away," but everyone thought she was just talking about going to sleep from the painkillers. When Mr. Randy looked back up, she was dead. Now she's in a coma.)

I explained all this to my boss yesterday, when he overheard someone asking if I'd had to attend a funeral this weekend (I told him I couldn't take a shift of his because of that possibility). He said, "He shouldn't be blaming himself. If a frog had wings, then he wouldn't hit himself in the ass when he hopped." (I still have NO idea what that's supposed to mean.) At least he's sympathetic, in case I do have to bail work for a funeral.

Please keep her in your prayers, thoughts, whatever. The next few days are going to be absolutely horrendous.