Brood of vipers

Longtime readers will notice certain angry themes in my work. 

The neighbors. 

The guy who ran over Ron. 

The officer who robbed Ron, falsified the accident report, and verbally attacked me when I questioned it "He couldn't have walked into the street backwards?!"

Ron's family. 

 I won't share past "insults" until I've gotten the present out of the way, then we'll come back to the present.

Ron and I have an unusual last name, although Ancestry says it is a "common" surname in one state.  I suppose one of his cousins (he has over a dozen) was bored one day and plugged Ron into Google.

My Facebook came up.  "Oh" the cousin thought "I want to friend Ron's wife!"  The accident was a huge "thing" in the family.  More later.

She sent the request, I accepted.  She's a nice older lady, a grandmother, Deaf (runs in the family, Ron has moderate nerve deafness in addition to the blind).  We've each seen the other through various trials;  you know mine; her, the loss of a grandchild.  She likes to visit all the "infirm" family members, which is one way I found out where Ron's parents are located.  She visited, took photos, and geotagged the location.  I could show up there in an hour, if I wanted.  More on that, later.

I suppose she talked about me.  Or maybe someone else got bored, did a google search, and found me.  This time, Ron's nephew, his sister's youngest boy.

I did NOT accept the request.  He had to coax me into it, swearing he was born again, he had good intentions, just wanted to see how we were doing, etc.  I very reluctantly did so.

He's been cool.    I like him.  All his "fruits" do indicate him being born again.  He's gone from a lawless party animal (sorry, Brian) to a responsible family man.  I like him. 

That's saying a lot, considering. 

He DID apparently tell his parents, and uncle, about Ron's condition before I asked for confidentiality.  I don't blame him for that.  If your sibling is crapping blood and may have cancer, that's a thing you need to know! 

Yesterday my Facebook notified me my brother-in-law (Brian's Dad) is now following me.  He probably thinks I don't know. 

At least he didn't send a friend request.  That could have been awkward, although this guy was actually very decent to us. 

Why is this odd for me? 

Well, the day of Ron's accident Ron had put his brother as next of kin.  Police showed up at A's door and notified him.  He contacted their sister, H, and told their parents. 

His sister went to the hospital and was allowed to see him (!!) before he was let up to ICU.  No one ever thought (or desired) to contact me, even though they knew Ron and I were deeply in love, and had been for over a decade.

OK, bad decision.  People make bad decisions when the shit hits the fan.  I did my best to move past that.  However, a few hours later, after a third party came and GOT me, having discovered Ron's family hadn't bothered - H told me "Well, if Ron had a stroke we'll just put him in a nursing home." 

"No, you will not!" I retorted.  "Why don't you get a gun and go shoot him?"

"What!?"

"You know that would kill him.  I'll take care of him." 

"It's not your choice, Heather.  You're not married."

Remember I was not medicated.  I kicked the wall, once, and started cussing Ron out, because I had warned him of exactly this.  He said his family would take care of us, I didn't need to worry.

I tearfully shared this, and my deep concern they would "stick" Ron in some hole.  "Oh, we won't do that, Heather.  Don't worry about anything."

Instead, I am told, they plotted the nursing home placement behind my back. 

I had to fight them - people he hadn't seen in over a year - to be "allowed" to see him in ICU.  When they went up, they gossiped about Ron, to the nurses - giving false "medical information" which I had to correct, in an effort to "look good, and informed".

After that, they gossiped about me to the nurses.  Fine.

Could we all please focus on getting Ron better so I can take him home?  No.

His mother refused an emergency, lifesaving operation, because "They're going to cut him open".  I had to literally get down on my knees, crying, and beg his father to sign consent forms, saying "Don't you want to know you did everything for him?"

What kind of mother refuses a lifesaving operation for her son?   She always turned all waiting room conversations to her aches and pains.  She didn't visit much after the first few days, either. 

His siblngs' favorite sport was complaining about the cost of parking, in an extortionary way that made me feel I should be paying them.  They also spent a lot of time making personal attacks on me because Ron chose to walk to work, alone, that day.

His brother finally encountered a coworker who said "Yeah, I tried to give that guy a ride one day and he said no".  His brother reluctantly conceded that maybe Ron had wanted to be out there by himself.
Ron later said "The driver ran a red light.  We'd both be in wheelchairs".   

They spent a lot of time mocking my devotion and refusing to help - even with a simple ride home.  His sister made a big production because she gave me one ride home, and bought me a $5 bag of cat food on the way.  That was it.  I begged her, another night, for a ride.  She told me to take the bus.  It was 11 PM and I lived in a crack-infested ghetto.  I stayed up in the waiting room. 

I stopped asking them for anything.

People figured out I was the other victim - people who knew and loved us, and responded accordingly.  Ron's dad once lovingly brought me a couple handfuls of change wrapped up in aluminum foil, all he had "For the vending machine".  I still find that one of my most treasured gifts.

His mother, as I said, was out of the picture.  She was used to the family drama revolving around her ailments.  Suddenly Ron was more important and she didn't know how to deal.

His brother's wife was a nurse.  One day Ron's sister said she had met with the neurologist, who had diagnosed Ron with a spinning brain.  Ron's brain was spinning, in his head, like a top, she informed me.  Every now and then it would "press on the bad spot" and that's what was keeping him in the coma.

I asked if she was sure.  She swore up and down the doctor had diagnosed him with a spinning brain.  I called our mutual sister in law, the former nurse.  "Could you please explain to her, the brain never spins, ever?.  The brain just sits in your skull.  It has way too many connections to spin, not to mention it's very crowded - there's no room to spin, either.  I don't want to offend her.  I don't know a way to tell her this but if she goes around saying this to the medical people they're going to think we're all ignorant, and Ron will get lousy care."

She said she would explain.  Later, I realized she didn't even know that herself.  Ron's whole family had gotten on board with the spinning brain.  My aunt (in the picture by now, and my only ally) didn't believe me until she spoke with them herself. 

Later, I found out what had happened: the doctor had told H that Ron's brain had twisted at the moment of impact.  He had a diffuse axonal injury - "broken wires".  He also had anoxic (lack of oxygen), contusions, and bleeding on the brain - which led to his stroke.

I can "speak medical" but I don't make a big deal.  However the family could have gotten a lot more understanding if they had let me talk to the neurologist, instead.   They would specifically tell me "Don't speak for the doctor" (meaning translate it into ignorant). 

Months later, one cardiac surgeon told me "It's so nice to speak to an informed family member."  I supposed God wired me like this because Ron and I would need it.  [snort]

As Ron woke up, he only wanted me.  If his siblings went in he'd chat for a minute or two and start asking for me.  It really upset them.  They wanted to dismiss me from Ron's life, and here he was putting me back. 

I hung onto what every medical professional told me "He always does better when you're around."

They desperately hung onto hope that Ron would get shunted off to a head injury rehab hospital, even though I was told, by an admitting doctor (the day he came to evaluate Ron) he would make a bad candidate.  That was assuming he had insurance, which he didn't.

He had asked his brother: please put me on your insurance.  His brother said NO.  That was coming back to bite him in a big way. 

At that point and time, all insurance paid for head injury rehab, even if it took months.  Basically it was a "nice' nursing home that got you to "semi functional" and sent you home. 

I kept reminding them, he doesn't have insurance.  They had high hopes because H's daughter in law had a cousin.  The cousin had suffered a head injury, not as bad as Ron's, but significant.  The brain injury rehab hospital "took" him after he got out of the hospital "until he was better". 

"Ask" I said bitterly "If he had insurance". 

They stopped talking about it after that. 

The TX legislature changed the health insurance laws that year - now health insurance is not required to pay for head injury rehab.  In my opinion, it's a waste of money anyway. 

They moved onto Plan B.  They would all say they wouldn't take Ron, and slander me to the point that the professionals would refuse to give me custody.  Then "they" would "have" to put Ron in a nursing home. 

The doctors laughed in the women's faces (A's wife, the "nurse", and Ron's sister did this) when they tried to say I was "crazy" (ha!), "unfit", and "had a bad back".  His sister in law, the so-called nurse, tried to tell me my reproductive organs would be damaged if I lifted Ron. 

"That's what happened to me!" she warned.  (She had fibroids - they really thought I was stupid!)

I laughed in her face "Good!  I don't want kids anyway!  That's why Ron got fixed."  She started cursing and stormed off. 

His sister came to me and said she had told Ron's doctor I had a bad back and couldn't take care of him, but the doctor had laughed at her and denied it.  I had to go (lie) to the doctor and tell her myself.  I said no.  I got cussed out and she left. 

Back so trash talking me to everyone who would listen. 

I won't put on a halo.  I will just say everyone knew better.  I was and am completely devoted to Ron. 

The only thing I ever did to upset the nurses:  My cycle was irregular do to stress.  As you know, when I bleed, I bleed a lot.  The next morning my little pull out bed looked like a crime scene, scaring the crap out of Ron's nurse.  Poor thing.  She was really sweet when I explained, and went home for tampons and laundry. 

They moved on to plan C.  Since Ron's dad had legal custody, they manipulated him into saying he would take Ron to (his) home. 

Then I was told, by the other siblings, if I wanted to take care of Ron I would have to take care of Ron, AND his two elderly parents.  His dad had the start of dementia.  His mother was an obese, drama queen, diabetic with a history of falls. 

They had a big meeting to plan it all out. 

For some reason, my aunt felt it was a good idea.  She didn't understand how much they hated me.  How this was NOT "we'll all pull together to help Ron" but "We are going to burn Heather out quickly and get him in that nursing home." 

I walked out of the meeting.  I wasn't going to sign on for any of that.  

The next day, Ron refused to take his medication, which was making him combative.  I told him what was going on as I cried all over his good shoulder.  He called his father, demanding he sign forms releasing him to my custody.  His Dad always loved him, knew I did too, and did it. 

Now, those of you with a religious bent know this all came from my sinful choice to live with Ron, unmarried.  However, they made a bad situation a million times worse. 

I did everything I could to play nice, to suck up to them, to be agreeable, all in the name of helping Ron. 

They despised me. 

His brother came and screamed at me one day.  He asked if I really wanted to take Ron home the way he was (head injury dementia, stroke, etc.).  I said yes.  He started cursing at me. 

He had spoken to his own wife, who said she would not to that for him.

His sister said the family used to be happy, until "I" came along and "ruined everything".

She came in that night screaming at him.  I walked out.  She told me I couldn't do that.

"Why not?" I asked.  "I was only nice to you when you were going to help me.  You have no power over me now." 

I could hear her screaming all the way over by the elevators.  The nurses threw her out, found me (they actually sent someone to follow me) and brought me back to Ron, who was crying.

Way to go, sis.  Making a poor crippled head injury blind man cry, after he got run over by a pickup.

I took him home; it was just me, taking care of him.  God enabled him to make an amazing recovery. 

As he recovered, he made many, desperate, attempts to reconnect.  They refused.  His sister even mocked him for "talking funny".  

"She knows I had a stroke?  Right?"  I concurred.  He was done with her after that.  

His parents wouldn't take his calls.  We went by one day, they told us not to come back. He was crushed. 

It is VERY hard not to hate them.

I guess this is the last hurdle for me: forgiving them for what they did to Ron.  I even forgave the driver, and the police officer ("As you sow, so shall you reap").  

Lord, you're going to have to help me to forgive Ron's family, who hurt him so bad. 

Ron calls me "Mama bear" for a reason.  I am fiercely protective of him (mainly due to all this). 

It's ironic.  Ron's sister specifically said she wasn't wiping his butt.  She didn't.  Instead, her son suffered a catastrophic accident a few years later and she had to take care of him.  By herself.   I wonder who "spoke for the doctor"? 

Ron's parents, denied all the nursing home plotting - yet they are now the victims of the nursing home plot themselves.  They're both in a nursing home not far from here, considering.  Ron refuses to visit - his father has extreme dementia and he doesn't feel he has anything to say to his mother. 

"As far as I care" he says "They all died in a terrible accident, years ago.  Please support me in that."  I do.