sageandsea

Three years ago today. We were having our annual holiday party, which we tried to have around the 16th to keep CJ's mind occupied (Shannon's birthday was hard for her since they weren't in contact). It was a strange day, and slow. My dad called mid-afternoon, and told me that my mom had had a seizure that morning, that he and Barb (my sis-in-law) had gotten her to the hospital but they weren't sure what was up.

I called the hospital; apparently a combination of drugs and her natural habits had dropped mom's blood sugar to ~20, which is pretty damned low. She was still responsive that first day, but slipped away pretty quickly. I remember thinking it was odd that one of my maternal aunts was surprised when I used the word coma, apparently non-responsive is a more comfortable word. I told the hospital to page me if there was any change at all, but otherwise I'd be down in just a few days because of the holiday anyhow.

I remember that page...it came on 12/20/03, around 12.30 in the afternoon. I knew it was death. When I called the hospital, they said now or never. I told my sweet employer that I had to go, now, and he sent me off. I tried to get a med emerg. flight, and Horizon can kiss my ass because they said no. I drove home, threw a pair of underwear in a bag, and was gone before CJ could even blink. I love her, but I didn't have time to go through "I don't know if I want to go" just then.

I stopped at every rest area for the first little bit, calling the hospital to see if she was still alive. There was an accident just south of Albany, and I drove the car through the divider to get back onto I-5 North so I could take the backroads, rather than sit still. I couldn't fucking sit still. Just south of Wolf Creek, I got pulled over by a State patrolman; I must have been going about 95. When he got to the window, I handed him my license, explained my speed, and burst into tears. He handed it back to me and ran. I passed him again around Grants Pass, still doing 90; he let me go.

I sat vigil with her all night. The doctor we spoke with said that there was little to no chance of recovery, she had finally damaged her body to badly. When the nurses came in during the night to schedule this test or that test, I told them no. I didn't see any purpose to hurting her any further. Because of who I am, I will always wonder if that was the right thing to do ~ even when I know it was.

In the morning, there was a parade of people. I remember my dad, my aunts, and Carla all being there at one time or another, and maybe Johhny. When my dad first came in, I saw him cry, for only the 2nd time in my life ~ he said later that he had been able during the night to convince himself that this wasn't real. At lunchtime, the nurse was discussing moving mom off of the ICU to a more private room...and suddenly I realized it wasn't necessary. Mom was beginning to Cheyne-Stokes, the breathing pattern most common prior to death. There were hugs, and last goodbyes to a woman who may or may not have been able to hear them, and tears, and in a surprisingly short period of time, she was gone.

Mary Louise Counts
02/11/42 – 12/21/00

Mary Louise Counts, 58, of Medford, died Thursday, December 21, 2000. In honor of her wishes, no service will be held, but contributions in her name can be made to the Humane Society of Oregon.

She was born February 11, 1942 in Mojave, California. She lived in Lakeview, Oregon until after her marriage to John Counts, when she moved to Medford.

She was a gifted artist, and a great lover of strays, both human and animal. Her door and her heart were always open.

She was preceded in death by her parents Cap & Lillie Williams, her nephew Brian, and many beloved pets. Survivors include her husband of 42 years, John; a son, Kevin of Oak Harbor, WA; a daughter, Debbie, of Portland, OR; two grandchildren; six nieces and nephews; many great and great-great-nieces and nephews; and her sisters Jean, Donnie and Kay.