BeeCharmer’s Buzz

Years ago my father had a massive heart attack. The kind that should have killed him. He lived and after repairing the blocked arteries was left with only 35% of his heart muscle working. They offered him a chance to get a mechanical heart, to extend his life at least another year. He was at first a terrible candidate, so sick from lack of blood flow that his internal organs began to give up.  He pulled through being too ornery to die. With the help of antibiotics and blood thinners he became strong enough to handle the surgery.

For a little over a year, his heartbeat was audible over the TV as the mechanical heart pumped blood through his veins. Sometimes (after he healed) I would lay my head on his tummy and listen to the mechanical heart. It was like hearing one of those stuffed toys you put in a crib that plays the mama’s heart beat.It was somehow strangely soothing.

But he got sick again. One of the tubes, that stuck through his side, became infected. The Dr.s said they had to remove the mechanical heart or he would die from the infection, but then again he couldn’t live without it. They talked about putting in a second mechanical heart, but that is unheard of. They decided to place him on the transplant list, but he was not an easy match. Something to do with antibodies. They patched him up best they could and sent him home to wait for the call. I think it was less than a month before he got the call. He showed up at the hospital only to be sent away- he had a fever. It was very low grade but they do not mess around with less than healthy specimens- it could mess their numbers up- besides there is someone else that can use that organ that is in great shape and just as anxious as you are. It was fair but it was disappointing. Within the week - total freak coincidence, according to Dr’s, another match came up. This time was healthy enough to accept a donor heart. This February is his “real birthday”, as he puts it. This year will be the 8th anniversary of his heart transplant.

That was such a stressful time I thought my family was going to implode. I had just come out, gotten a divorce, moved to Hawaii, let me just say I was stressed to my gills. Just drowning in anxiety. My Step-mom was inconsolable half the time and a tiger the other half. She ran the operation (the comings and goings of family, the money, what needed to be done to get my dad home, what had to be done at home) like a well oiled machine. I just followed instructions and wandered around like an agitated zombie. I was so stressed that I got lost in the corridors of this huge hospital and had a panic attack and started bawling. It was a TV drama moment.

My SM, the General, took the time watch out for all of us kids too. She knew I was reaching the end of my rope so she gave me one of the pills the Dr had prescribed to her to help her deal with this traumatic event.  I took the pill no questions asked. My SM decided she wanted to stop and pick up candy, from See’s, for her employees who were doing an excellent job taking care of the businesses while she and Dad stayed at the hopital 200 miles away. I went along- when you spend that much time in a hospital you find alot of reasons to go outside and see people who are healthy.

So we get to See’s and go inside. It’s right before Valentines Day so the place is PACKED shoulder to shoulder. with a line of about 50 in this tiny candy shop. I am looking at the display and I see a box of candy my very elderly Grandmother (who has since passed) would love.

My Grandma was an old southern uhh well she was very controlling. Our own version of Rose Kennedy. She was the  matriarch of the “White Trash Kennedy’s”, as I sometimes use in reference to my dysfunctional family.  I’ve never met a person that had a good thing to say about her but I was her favorite grand-kid. Go figure. She rode me so hard I should have saddle scars. She was a little bit Katharine Hepburn and a whole lot Mama on “Mama’s Place”.

But anyways- Being her dutiful understudy and heir to the throne, I always wanted to please her.

This is where things got dicey, the pill really kicked in. I couldn’t see whether there were nuts in the candy (Grandma couldn’t eat nuts)  on display so I put one knee on the shelf to boost my self up a little bit to look at it more closely. Just when I went to reach for it to bring it closer to eye level (it was pretty high it turns out) the counter/shelf gave out and I knocked over the whole display and shattered the clear plastic sheeting over the display box of candy. OMFG. My heart stopped, the pill decided it was too weak to stop the anxiety and retreated like a coward. Everything went into slow motion. The Manager came out and was horrible to me about paying for the display. I was actually dying from embarrassment. I told my SM I would wait in the car. She stayed and waited all the way through that line to get her candy (It really is that good). The whole time she was inside I was imagining the cops showing up, me bawling it wasn’t my fault, explaining how stressed out I was and the pill and- omg I took someone elses prescription- I am going to jail.

Finally SM got in the car and asked what was wrong. I told her. She just laughed and said “If they didn’t want people climbing on the shelf to get at their candy, there should have been a sign saying so”. I was shocked, maybe it wasn’t that bad, maybe I didn’t have to commit shamed based suicide. Wow, cool for me. Then she pipes up “Besides that was F*ing funny”.

 My near death and the following nervous breakdown was worth it to give her something to laugh about during the hardest time my family has ever gone through.  It gets brought up occasionally at family dinners everyone rolls with laughter, even me.