Monday, 5 July 2021

We are Windsor Fine, upright and breathing!

 Caitlin came over, as I wrote previously [Slow recovery continues], to do some chores for me when I was ill [I am a wreck!]. She said we were 'Windsor Fine!'  AKA – upright and breathing. I promised a story.

 On a Friday night in 2006,  I'd moved to Bala to provide care while my father was having radiation therapy for his brain tumour, and my mom was dying of cancer. Mom's tumours were spreading, she'd been pulled off chemotherapy, as it was making her too sick. 

I knew I had to go to Toronto for my mental health, but mom had a bad morning that Friday. I called the doctor, he came and said she was palliative. (My mom thought we should call him to 'find a solution.') She was so secretive about her health issues. Her best friend didn't know she had cancer. I called Home Care, who'd been providing housekeeping help, and arranged for a nurse to be there for a few hours until my brother arrived home from Toronto. He was staying with Dad in the cancer lodge, where they house people from away getting treatment (radiation). 

Off I went to Toronto, a drive south for a couple of hours. The nurse was there in Bala, and I was confident all would be good. Robin and Dad were on their way home from Toronto. I was giving three Curriculum and Technology workshop to female teachers, sponsored by my teacher's federation. It was an honour to do so.

My poor Mom thought the ER could help her. Unbeknownst to me, my brother took Mom to the ER Friday night, as she wanted them to fix her up. My brother, Robin, left Dad at home asking a neighbour to check in on him. He took Mom into the ER. Mom spent the night there, with Robin returning home late. There was nothing they could do. What a breakdown in communication. I was presenting that evening. 

 They lived on Windsor Drive, in Bala. At the time, Dad had a brain tumour, and had delirium from a UTI. It was not pretty. He would get up at 2 a.m., leave taps running, and tried to light a fire in the wood stove in the wee hours. Anyway, the neighbour told Robin she'd checked in on Dad. He was sitting all alone on the couch. She told Robin that Dad was 'fine!' For years, now, when we ask one another how we are we say we are 'Windsor Fine,' upright and breathing. It's a standard! 

This was the house and the cottage.

We lived there four years. The kids would visit and stay in the attached cottage.


Tom said...

...'Windsor Fine' is a new term for me.

Christine said...

That was a tough time of life.

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
Good to take the comedic turn on the not-so-comedic! YAM xx

Nancy J said...

When we look back at tough times, then wonder how did we cope and manage with so much happening all at the same time? I certainly hope you are lots better now and the sad memories fade even more.XXXX

Olga said...

It has a nice ring at least. Glad you have someone to look after you in your Windsor fineness.

Anvilcloud said...

That was quite a situation.

William Kendall said...

New term for me too.

Cloudia said...

Hope you feel perfect again very soon my dear!

Jeanie said...

It's so interesting to look back at times that were physically and emotionally hard and wonder, How did we cope? You did -- and well done. Windsor Fine. I must remember this!