I wish I had met Pres. Carter when he was in better health. I’m glad to have see him in person when he was in Columbus stumping for Sen. Jason Carter.
I just couldn’t get through the Secret Service to shake his hand afterward!
My thoughts and support go to Jimmy, Rosalyn, Jason, Kate, and their family. Here’s to a longer life.
I want to take the time to jot down my gratitude to the active duty and civilian coworkers from Martin Army Hospital who have stood by my sister, mother, myself and my nephews us through all this and have chipped in through a variety of means to help maintain our household’s stability.
They helped me and Brandon clean up and unbox the new house on post which we moved into in August (which we hadn’t done due to both health and time constraints), they made school lunch easier for RJ, they have kept my mother fed while she has waited alongside my sister for over a month at Columbus Regional, they have helped me and Connie keep up with her online schoolwork, they have pulled strings to ensure that there is a sense of continuity in this household (wherever it may manifest), despite my own shortcomings as a “de facto” caretaker.
They are all amazing people, and I appreciate their involvement in our lives.
Before heading home in the wee hours of the morning, I dropped off my other sister Wanda at the hospital. I went into the ICU with her and her younger daughter, Cedrica, and I talked to Connie for 10 minutes, at least to try communicating with her. I talked about how her coworkers helped us clean and arrange the house yesterday, how things were paid off, how stuff simply, finally, got done. I encouraged her to keep fighting the disease, keep holding on, stay on to come back home. When talking to Cedrica on the way to post about the experience, she said that Connie’s EKG was beating faster while I was talking to her.
Last 30 minutes: Connie, my sister, just told us that her recent MRI revealed abnormalities in her back and head. We’re taking her to Columbus Regional tonight, where she will stay for at least three days.
If it’s what we’re fearing, her hysterectomy will be called off and she will continue chemo. If confirmed and left untreated, prognosis is four weeks. She found this out by phone this morning.
Meanwhile, it’s rained for three whole days. She prayed with her younger son and my mother in the living room just now, at his request. I walked out and waited in my room instead; Brandon sat in his. I refuse all expectations, and accept all futures. #4thOfJuly #ComeWhatMay
