Aunt Rachel

To my Aunt Rachel, you are a strong woman.

I have known you all my life. It wasn’t until recently though that I’ve really gotten to know you. I’ve always known you were Nana’s sister. I’ve always known you’ve liked those Rafellos as a present. I’ve known you were childhood friends with Uncle Dave before you becam his wife.

It’s scary to think that due to one snowy day, I could’ve lost you. That I might never have known you. It was amazing for me to learn all that you’ve gone through. In February 1989, on a snowy morning where it was sleeting, you could’ve been lost. You were coming home from seeing your current boyfriend while being separated from your husband. You were driving your Dodge green car down a 2 Lane Highway, and suddenly you hit black ice. Your car went over the embankment, taking out a few pine trees with it. You could have died.

The engine from your car went up into the front seat where you could have been, your front seat went into the backseat. Your soon to be ex-husband Joe was fortunate enough to be on his way to work. He recognized your car and left to get help.

Your spirit could’ve left you at that time. You told me how you looked around at one point and saw your body on a gurney with your favorite pretty yellow jacket and you’re pretty gray boots by you. You could see yourself and you questioned what was going on. You questioned how badly you were hurt. Were you going to die? By the saving grace of God, you felt yourself slip back into your body.

You woke up five days later in the hospital coming out of a coma due to your injuries. Your legs were bruised. You had fractured your ribs, spine and had punctured lung which caused all the cartilage in your neck to swell. The doctors had ordered an exploratory on your stomach just to make sure there was no internal bleeding. Luckily there wasn’t. You laid in the hospital for two weeks with a chest tube in your lungs to make sure you were not drowning in liquid. You had to wear an upper chest brace to make sure you didn’t hurt your back any further. You were scared.

My brave Aunt Rachel, who has always been the feistiest person I’ve known, who has always given back as much as she’s taken whether it be kindness or sass. You told me you were scared. You couldn’t move very well. You were able to use the bathroom by yourself and you could walk a bit.

You felt lucky that your mom was able to help you. Great Grandma was someone I never got to meet. But she loved you and helped you because you were her baby.

Unfortunately, God was not done with you.

You had gone to your doctor because you were having trouble breathing. The same doctor who had seen to you after your coma. Your doctor decided to perform an Endoscopy. He told you that if you did not go to the hospital right away, a cold could kill you. That same day you were rushed into surgery and had a trach put in. This was an even scarier time for you. With the trach in, you couldn’t talk. You could not communicate as you once did.

That night after your procedure, you had a bell your nurse gave you. She told you to ring it if you needed anything. You nodded your head yes that you understood. As you were sleeping you jolted awake to see your room mate standing over you in her nightgown holding a pair of scissors. You were terrified. You rang your bell as hard as you could and slammed your hand on the bedside table until your nurses came running. They dragged her out of the room and then you were left alone. Your family decided not to leave your side again.

The next day you saw a speech therapist. She told you you may never talk again. What they could do for you is to give you a device that once held up against your throat, would respond to your vocal cords. You shook your head no. You were not going to let this lady tell you what you could and could not do.

Four days later you had another procedure. They took out the original trach And put a smaller one in. To make sure it stayed in they stitched the sides closed. When the doctors asked you to say something you said, “What?”

When you went home for the 2nd time you had a nurse with you from the organization March of Dimes. Her name was Patty Pickles. She was with you for three months. When nurse Patty first saw you, you were eating popcorn and she yelled at you. She said it was one of the worst things you could do. Popcorn kernels in your trach was not the best idea. When you were discharged from her care three months later, she made you margaritas. You did not like them one bit.

During your healing period, your body was recovering but your mind was questioning. You had gone to see a psychologist in order to help process all that had happened to you. What was still troubling you. You were going through a separation, your body was hurting constantly. A pity party is what you called it. You told your psychologist, you weren’t satisfied, you weren’t happy. You said, ‘Sometimes I just don’t know why I keep going on.’ You showed me just how strong you were. You went ahead and did the most difficult thing a person could do. You reached out and asked for help.

Your psychologist then sent you to see a psychiatrist who gave you anti-depressants. You only had to see this person a few times. You saw your psychologist in group therapy for a few months. You made friends with the people you talked to, even though your psychologist said, ‘...this is a professional setting. You don’t have to go down to the bar and talk about it.’ Everyone had a good time.

Finally, towards the end of the year in September, you were able to get your brace removed. You felt relieved that you could finally move about, could raise your arms higher than shoulder level and able to bend over to pick things up. Then the appointment to remove your trach took place. Your doctor snipped the stitches, told you to cough, and then pulled out your trach in one smooth motion. Breathing was now a little easier.

Years passed until We finally met in 1994. You’ve always been a part of my life.

I know you can make pasta fagioli from scratch. Nana prefers your lasagna for her birthday dinner. You have dinner dates with Uncle Dave every Thursday at Olive Garden. Judge Judy is your preferred show. You have a fun feisty side and don’t care about what anyone else thinks.

It was eye-opening to find out you were human. It was scary to think I could’ve never met you. It was humbling to hear your struggle. I felt closer to you when finding out you can suffer the same illnesses as me. I am forever grateful that you were here with me today.

I love you Aunt Rachel. May you have many more years to come with us.

———————————————————————————————————————

Disclaimer: Some names and details were changed per the request of ‘Aunt Rachel’ in order to protect her identity.