Saturday, November 26, 2005

Liz, Louise, limbs and life

Up until Wednesday or Thursday, I had been resisting getting excited about Liz's wedding. Sometime this week, though, I started to let myself realize that I would enjoy the wedding. Pretty dress. Good food. Beautiful location. Lots of family. Sort of silly (now that the showers and all of the other obligations are over) to pretend that it is such a task.

Not only will my dad's entire family be there, but my mom's parents and her sisters and their families were invited. Lots of cousin time. Including my cousins from Chicago. Very fun.

When I got home from work yesterday, I learned that my Aunt Marie was in the hospital. Aunt Marie fell and broke her leg a few weeks ago. It was rough, the first few weeks, but she just recently got her spirits and her strength up enough to realize that she could live with her temporary disability. Things were looking up.


Her leg is infected. She went into surgery immediately. The goal, now, is basically to attempt to save her leg.

My heart is broken.

Aunt Marie has severe, severe diabetes. It nearly killed her as a child; it's always been a struggle to keep everything in check. She does the best she can, but the disease has a stranglehold on her.

It, of course, is a very large factor in the infection.

The scariest part of this is seeing how scared my mom is. My mom's pretty high up in the medical profession; she doesn't needlessly get scared. And my cousin Anna, a third-year nursing student, was the one to take Aunt Marie to the hospital. She knows a little too much of what is going on, which tears me up. I know that I cannot fathom how afraid she is right now.

The entire situation has been amplified by the fact that my Aunt Louise is in for Liz's wedding. Aunt Louise, as I've mentioned before, is a first-class bitch. She got on the phone with my mom yesterday and she - a lawyer - insisted that this was someone's fault. She obviously needs a new doctor, she told my mom - the college nursing professor, because this is his fault. He should've known.

I'm pretty sure my mom cried as she told Aunt Louise, no, it isn't her doctor. It's her body.

Aunt Louise should know. She's diabetic, too.

But instead she's aggressive and blaming and I am so, so sure that she has my grandma believing that this is her fault, too.

It's going to be very hard, with this weighing on my mind, to be entirely happy at the wedding today.

A 500-person wedding seems awfully small when compared to a life.


Plantation said...

Am so sorry to hear this. It saddens me, too. *hugs*

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