A footnote.
A footnote is a note of reference, explanation, or comment usually placed below the text on a printed page. Ever think of a footnote, do you ever go to the footnotes to see where the quotes in the book came from or what book facts were taken from to make a point in literature? Today I have been thinking a lot about footnotes and what they mean to me. In a pandemic who will be in the footnotes? Who will be supplying the footnotes to the Authors of the future? In a world full of pain, death, and sorrow who will be the main story and who will just be a footnote?
Will the Covid deaths be the only deaths that matter in 2020? Who decides which deaths mattered more than others? There has been so much sadness an enormous amount of loss. Everyone has been affected from Covid 2020 either by getting Covid, losing employment or losings a loved one.
My mother died on May 24th in the hospital of heart failure. Covid was not the cause of death, but it caused her to die indirectly. Her death will not go down in history as a Covid fatality, but she died during the pandemic and a should be counted but there will only be a footnote "other deaths occurred during the pandemic" 1.
My mother ended up in the hospital On March 17th 2020 the day after all hospitals went on lock down. The doctors didn’t even know the Governors orders, but they had an inkling that something was coming down the pipe. She was supposed to have cardiovascular surgery and the original doctor told me on Monday that he would have to do it in the office because he would not be able to do the surgery in Mercy where he had privileges. I was not comfortable for my mom to have this procedure in a doctor’s office so I took her to her cardiologist in Manhasset. Her doctor referred us to a surgeon that was affiliated with Saint Frances. The cardiologist said we couldn't wait, we had to go see the surgeon that that day. There was an iery feeling in the air, something just didn't seem right. Got to the surgeon office, after examining her , he told me she had to be admitted immediately into the hospital . Me and my aunt then took her to the emergency room at Saint Frances and the start of her life journey would soon come to an end. I was not allowed to go with her in the emergency room, I was told to leave and they would call me. I couldn’t even explain to my mother, who didn’t understand English what was happening. The hospital parking lot was empty, no one in the emergency room, you just can feel that things were not right. The only way for me to communicate with her was by face time
The nurses were wonderful and really went out of their way to have my mom feel comfortable. She was released a week later. I was not allowed to go up to the floor to get her, they brought her down to the parking garage. In the parking garage the nurse went over the care for her and had me sign the release papers. Nothing was the same.
Catholic Services were set up to come and take care of my Mother to make sure she was recovering from her toe amputation. The nurses and the therapists were great. They never canceled appointments took caution for the Covid and showed up. I got to talk the most of them and they wee dealing with patients coming home with Covid, they were scared but did their job.
The doctors were not seeing patients, only video appointments. Everything was pretty much stopped. Life as it was had changed, School (the actual building) was closed, students were on line since March 13th. We never knew when it would go back to in person, now we know we never did until 2021, a year later. The one positive note, because of the lock down I worked from home. I got to see my family all day every day. At night we would go for walks life was nice and peaceful. My Mom was recovering at least that’s what we thought. I ended up going to her house everyday from 8:30 to around 4 4:30 from April 10th to when she became sick again. I am so happy I had that time with her. I would bring my lab top and work while we talked. I made her do her exercise and loved the way she looked at me when she thought I was nuts. She had a way of staring at me that made me laugh.
During my many conversations with my Mother she had me go upstairs to find the deed to her plot at Holly Road Cemetery. I said why do you need that she said I want you to know where it is. So, I got it for her. I guess that was her way of letting me know what was to come. I said Ma, you can’t die, if you do you can’t have a funeral. She shrugged her shoulders and said "Che mene frega" translation I don’t give a crap.
A week before Mother’s Day while one of the nurses was visiting, she noticed that her other toe was not looking good. She tried to call the doctor but he could not see her yet, they were still not seeing patients in person on May 6 2020. My mother was not doing well, so I decided to sleep over the Saturday before Mother’s Day and on Mother’s Day night. I felt so good staying with her, I wished I was young again, got in bed with her and just held her hand.
May 11th my mother ended up in the hospital again, I couldn’t go in the ambulance with her, and I had a bad feeling I wasn’t going to see her again. I kept telling her I won’t be able to see you, I don’t know if she understood. This time around the hospital experience was not a good one. The Covid was hard to deal with and the doctors and nurses were definitely over their heads and probably over worked and burned out.
People often say it was out of your control, you have to follow the rules. I followed the rules but I still can’t understand how I was not allowed to stay with her in the hospital especially since she could not speak English. Her cardiologist called me every day, and would tell me to call the hospital and harass them to let me in. Even the doctors could not understand why the patients were not allowed to have a voice. I was my mothers voice, and I was silenced. I called every day, every four hours until they let me see her for 10 minutes. It was up to the nurses if I could go in, some nurses were understanding some ruled by the Governors orders. I was grateful to see her for as much time they allowed me.
My mother was born in Italy and came to the Unites States early 30"s. She believed in respect, never missed a funeral always had to pay her respect. Even though she went to the wake of the person who passed, she would follow that up with a visit to the family. That was her way until a few years back when she had no one to take her. I used to say to her don't think everyone is going to come to your wake, she would say I don't care who comes I have to do what I have to do, they came to your fathers and I have to go to theirs. When she died, we were not able to have a wake for her friends and family to come and pay their respect. We were only able to have 10 at the viewing for an hour and then we went directly to the cemetery for a blessing , before she was put to her eternal house. I guess we were lucky most people weren’t even able to have more than 2 people and no viewing.
I remember siting in my back yard, where we often sat together and a red robin flew into my pink Rose tree. The Rose tree has been there since she lived in the house, her and my father planted it. The Red Robin was visiting his wife, they had built a nest and all day they would fly back and fourth. I watched the male bird bring food for the baby and wife. Deep in my heart I knew it was a sign, letting me know that my Mother and Father were together again.
