Funeral For A Friend

First, apologies to Elton John for stealing his song title. It just seemed to fit this blog so well.

So, today was a strange day but then what day hasn’t been these last five weeks. Kelly was worn out from the get go. She has been working so hard with her therapies that her body, brain and spirit are surely feeling it. However, being the trooper she is, she went through the day completing every part of her daily rehab with a smile on her face. This last part, the smile on her face, is what threw me when the “rest” of the day happened. I believe now, I was lured by that smile into believing it was safe today. Foolish me!

It actually started this morning when I was helping Kel get dressed and she informed me I better stop calling her a baby. Now, I honestly don’t recall calling her a baby. I do recall her telling me yesterday that I better stop treating her like a baby. I also remember her actually being the baby of our family. The baby name calling accusations? .... never happened! Not that it would be a bad thing if I had called her a baby since, well, technically she IS the Casas baby. But I digress.

Once the baby thing was swept under the rug, we went about our day with little else in confrontation. Well, except for the part when I was trying to encourage her in how well she was doing in front of PT and she told “the Peanut Gallery” to “pipe down.” Are ya kidding me? Peanut Gallery? Pipe down? First, I resent being compared to peanuts considering they have been found to be deadly in the news of late. And as for the pipe down remark, when have I EVER smoked a pipe …….. well after the ‘70s anyway? So once again, we both agreed to let it go. Obviously we were tired and had spent more time together than should have been medically allowed, mental health wise.

Then another doctor, at least the tenth today, came in to deliver great news about how wonderful Kelly was doing, and how she won’t have to take the stomach shots as long as they thought, and how happy they were with her progress. They even removed the brain drain! This would have been a great time for him to just leave, but noooo!!! The guy looks at us and asks, “Are you two twins?” Now, Kelly is mad because SHE IS THE BABY and he just insinuated she is as old as me. Big deal. Three years. Not to mention I am a very young 50! I’m mad because she is covered with bruises, her hair is matted with bloody hell and she has steroid action happening if you get my drift. He leaves and we “discuss” who should be more offended. She may have won that one but I am not ready to concede.

Finally evening arrived and we ordered dinner. The plan was to enjoy a meal together in her room while watching American Idol. Sounded like a perfectly fine plan ……. UNTIL! Seems one of us, and I swear it wasn’t me but I think she swears it was, brought up a topic that would have been better left un-brought up. The conversation turned to yelling followed by crying followed by the infamous Casas women SILENCE! Then dinner arrived. Well, of course we had to talk then because one thing we know for sure. We may want to never speak to each other again but do you think we are really gonna turn down food? Come on! Everyone knows you have to comment on the food and how good or bad or better yours is, so we talked again. Until the final accusation that is.

So we finish dinner, I help Kelly to the bathroom, get her changed into her nightgown, help her into bed and a small, insignificant accident happened. I guess somehow, and I am NOT saying I had anything to do with it, her gown was tied a little tight in the back…….around the neck. So as I am swinging her legs into bed, the top of the gown ……. well ……it sorta wrung around her neck. Of course, she starts making a big deal out of it.

“How are you gonna explain I made it through brain surgery only to be choked to death in my bed by my nightgown?? Huh??”

BABY!