The Doctor Makes a Phone Call

The Doctor phoned and requested I put the matriarch back onto her blood thinners; he had discussed her situation with the Eye specialist and saw no problem with the medication's return. I hate the matriarch taking Cumidin; it is basically rat poison thinned out to prevent the possibility of a stroke. The matriarch and I live in this world of possible death and the main aim of things is to prevent her survival should she suffer a stroke. My mother-in-law has an irregular heart beat; and, in the regular scheme of things, taking the medication is wise advice. However, she has had an irregular heart beat for forty years and has previously been on Cumidin for 3 years. I don't think it is going to make a difference but we are following the doctor's advice.

It means a change in routine. Every week, I must take the matriarch to a blood clinic to have her blood tested; she must be poked and prodded and her blood assessed to make sure the dosage is correct. The amount of Cumidin in her blood can affect her general health: too much and she could bleed to death; too little and the medication serves no purpose. The amounts are affected by her diet and her physical exercise; I think these effects of the medication are age-related. The matriarch will bruise easily for the next little while; the dosage will take some time to adjust. Every tap on the hand will cause massive bruising; the matriarch cannot fall. She cannot eat dark greens because the iron in the vegetables will affect the Cumidin dosage: no spinach or broccoli, in particular. Because she cannot see, I must watch out for the blood affects of bruising.

The matriarch really did not want to go back on the blood thinner; my husband and I left the decision up to her; my husband has her power of attorney and makes the decision about her right to die if she has an accident or suffers ill health. He cannot decide about her right to live; the matriarch cannot suffer a stroke for the very fact, she could survive it. My husband and I will take turns taking the matriarch to the clinic; although, neither one of us really wants to do it; one does the clinic and the other one does piano with the children. One day, at some point in the distant future, when the matriarch has passed on and the children have grown, my elderly husband and my older self will look at each other and wonder what we can do with this thing called "free time"....