Perspectives on son Colin’s Catastrophe . . .

August 29, 2023

 

 

We’ve experienced the first two . . . Let’s hope we’re now part way through the third!

Odd, how the “new normal” keeps blasting open into something yet more enlightening/catastrophic!

I’m speaking about what I do manage to keep up with via Telegram and X-sites; and I’m speaking about the ongoing continuously fissioning, harrowing drama endured by my son Colin in an Indianapolis hospital.

 

I’ve dealt with a lot of catastrophic situations in my own lifetime, usually involving myself — I think of especially three strange, out-of- the-blue, dog confrontations that felt like demonic energies suddenly aiming to take me over, take me down . . . for each episode I had to draw upon superhuman adrenal energy both during and afterwards, that took many weeks to replenish.

Then there were repeated hospital emergencies involving two of my husbands . . . all dramatic tales, and again, the  sudden hyper-alert super clear shocky attitude that accompanies them .  . .

But all of them pale in comparison with the continuous, mutating catastrophic agony my son is undergoing after his aorta delaminated and the sudden blood loss affected not just heart, but kidneys (killing one of them, compromising the other), and legs, feet. At this point he’s effectively paralyzed. The docs don’t think he will get his legs back. He, rightly, refuses to believe them. But meanwhile, he’s got to get that one kidney working again, and this takes multiple, many-hour dialysis sessions, each of which is proving to be extremely painful, leaving him wondering if he can make it through, says the pain is so bad he might die during the session. “Not that I’m afraid to die, he repeats, over and over; it’s just that I’m not done here!”

Then there’s me, undergoing this seemingly endless, rapidly mutating experience at the advanced age of 80! How to continue to replenish energy at this age and yet be present for Colin meantime?

Much different than when I was younger and had excess energy. Now my energy is carefully cultivated, on a daily basis, with those two hours of “physical culture” I’ve probably mentioned here (many times?): one hour walking with dog (3-4 miles), another hour of yoga, chikung, taichi). From a young age I’ve known that the body is primary; that without a functioning body, I will turn into a parasite. Don’t want that. Refuse to become that.

Very grateful son Sean is here with me, for this soulful drama that takes more from us than we ever knew we had, and has turned us into a team, all three of us, Colin, Sean, and Mom.

Sean drove to Indy this morning without me. I need this day to replenish energy.

Here’s a pic of me and Colin in late 1987. While dervish twirling during a celebration of the Harmonic Convergence in August, “the voice” had boomed out, in no uncertain terms, “YOU MUST FINISH YOUR PERSONAL KARMA BY THE END OF THE YEAR.”

After much rumination, and planning, I flew from Wyoming to Boston. My own mother had agreed to accompany me on this journey. First I had to meet with the father Patrick, to clear karma with him (spending five hours across the table, while he unloaded his bitterness, minute by minute; rather than taking it in, was able to help him unload it); this freed me up to see Sean, who also lived in the area. Then I went to D.C., and Colin. Thus did I finally meet up with both my sons again after six long years. THE most crucial trip of my long long life.

 

 

 

Up from under, briefly . . .

August 26, 2023

I have begun a caring bridge site for Colin, where I can put whatever notices to many different people who want them as a central place. Just sign up at caringbridge.com, and look up Colin Cudmore Healing, if you wish to see what will be short or long, likely daily, notices of his progress. You can also comment, add photos, etc. It’s a great service for caregivers.

The site I put up is still very bare bones, but here’s the collage I made to put up there, showing him at different ages, one of his Garden Towers, and a photo of the three of us, Sean on the right, can’t remember when, but in Seattle, at a sister’s house, shortly after we got back together after a long time apart. (So probably late 80s?) Long story. I think I’ve told it here. Maybe even several times! Can’t remember . . .

 

Colin’s situation was definitely touch and go for a while. That’s detailed in the two updates for various emails and lists that I did do last weekend and reposted last night on the caring bridge site. It’s quite dramatic. It’s surprising that he lived. Most people don’t, when their both ascending and descending branches of their aorta have dissected (also called delamination). Most die suddenly or within a short while. And it was “minute by minute” there for awhile.

I will return here to some extent as time goes by. But likely the real news, from my end, is my preoccupation with my 57 year old son’s progress, hopefully, to full health over time. My 60 year old son, Sean, drove from Colorado to be here with him as well. So very grateful!

Driving to and from Indy at Methodist Hospital, is hell. Roadways continuously changing, due to I 69 construction, making it very difficult not to get lost each time, since phone picks up wrong directions . . .

Then, several days into the ordeal, Sean and I both got sick! Immune systems shattered, is the way I look at it, with the stress of constant shock and worry, a seemingly unending emergency. He looks at it as “covid” (tested positive). However you look at it, we are both taking lots of black seed oil — and ivermectin also, in the beginning. He went down one day ahead of me; mine had a lower fever and lasted only three days; his four. But we’re both on the covid protocol now: five days isolation (hard to do, in community, in fact, impossible; on the other hand, others could go to the store when we needed something), but then out in public again, but masked, for another five days. (And we won’t get close to Colin, or touch him.)

Two operations later, Colin landed in the cardio ICU, where he was until yesterday, when he was moved to a slightly less critical cardio unit.

BTW: Colin did not come down with whatever it is . . . THANK YOU THANK YOU!

By the way, if this post is a bit sketchy, no wonder. It feels like my mind is “delaminating,” with parts of thoughts, floating away. Great word.