This story is going to take some turns and dips – not unlike any story that comes from the mouths of Jakiela girls! If you missed Part 1 – you can find it here. It’s where it all begins in the fall of 1986.
As days went by in January of 1987, I noticed she was staying up into the middle of the night. I would see the light on downstairs (she was a bit of a night owl anyway). One night I heard my father crying in the bedroom and marched downstairs and asked her “what are you doing? Why are you still up?” and started crying. I climbed into her lap and she held me until I stopped. You know in her mind, she was terrified, but never said what she was thinking. Shortly after that, my father and sister took her to her doctor. He sent them to Meriden-Wallingford Hospital for a CT Scan and MRI on Friday, January 31, 1987.
I remember very clearly I was at the copy machine in the Traffic Department at WTNH when I heard my name being called over the speakers that I had a telephone call. I picked it up and heard my sister Gail say, “Mommy has a brain tumor. She’s at the hospital. Do you want Marty (Gail’s husband) to come and pick you up?” I said no, talked of meeting at the hospital, and hung up. I told my friends in the area and then my boss and left for the hospital. Jan got the same phone call and she headed down from her home as well. At that time the Meriden Hospital was on Cook Avenue. Ironically, the first time I was there was to be born, and the last was to hear my mother was going to die.
Once there, we met with a doctor who told us she had a Glioblastoma Multiforme which is a rapid growth brain tumor and was quickly taking over. Right after she was admitted, we saw an immediate and significant change in her. It was shocking. She must have struggled so hard to hide whatever she was going through! My heart breaks now when I think about it. Jan is a nurse and she helped us to make some sense of what was going on and was able to ask the medical staff questions and be direct until they answered!
I don’t know what was going through my father’s head. Probably “what the hell do we do now?!”. He owned and ran a paint store in Meriden that he had to man every day. We called family members to let them know what was going on. It was a foregone conclusion that mommy was going to die. Not if, but when. They gave her four to six months. My sisters and I sat in the hospital cafeteria and decided that we would bury her in the dress she bought for Gail’s wedding. She bought this dress and would not tell anyone how much she spend on it! We had all quickly accepted the fact that this was happening and we couldn’t change the outcome.
There was no Hospice in 1987 like we know it now. Connecticut Hospice in Branford had just opened in 1980! Immediately, Aunt Tootsie (mom’s oldest sister by 13 years) and Auntie Edna (dad’s sister-in-law/wife of oldest Brother Steve) offered to come and stay with her Monday through Friday so we could continue working. What a relief!
We got through the weekend and I took Monday off to spend time with my mother in the hospital. I thought the brain tumor was definitely taking over when she told me she was going home that day! What the heck?! I went to the nurses’ station and sure enough, she was being discharged. It was just me with my little Dodge Colt getting my mother into the car. I called my father from the hospital payphone or when we finally got home but we were not prepared!
Once home we got her settled in a chair and brought a bed downstairs and set it up in the dining room. She was very unsteady on her feet and it was clear this thing was still growing. I started sleeping on the couch in the living room that night in case she needed anything and we all settled in on our first night of a new existence.
It's All About Family 