Thanksgiving Day 1998
This year I had decided to go to Costa Rica. I would spend Thanksgiving on the beach, thankyouverymuch. DD and her husband had plans to visit one of his sisters. They were supposed to drive from San Francisco on Wednesday and spend the holiday weekend in Los Angeles.
DD was pregnant with Bennett. He was due to arrive mid-January. Right before I left for Costa Rica, I threw DD a baby shower. I got Bennett the cutest little Giants outfit, complete with Giants booties. So. Cute!
DD was born with a heart problem and had open heart surgery when she was seven years old. Everything went along swimmingly until she was in her early 20s when she had to begin taking medication. Her friends didn’t realize the precariousness of her health. She never really talked about it and when it was brought up, acted like it was no big deal—she was fine. Really. Fine.
On Wednesday, DD just didn’t feel well and regrettably told her husband she didn’t think she could make the drive to L.A. Her husband called his sister and told her they would not be coming.
As the day progressed, DD kept feeling worse. It got to the point where she thought she should go to the hospital. Yes, she felt that bad.
Her husband took her to the emergency room. The emergency room doctor examined her and sent her home with flu symptoms.
Less than 12 hours later she was back in the hospital, Bennett was dead and DD was dying of toxemia.
DD and her husband were too devastated over the loss of their little boy to think about suing for medical malpractice. I bet they would have won that suit.
What follows is an undated journal entry from DD:
I feel like everything I look at—beautiful things that could fill me with happiness—now I only see them as fragments
As some pieces, shattered apart from the whole. Everything is incomplete, waiting for what is missing
I, too, am only some fragments now—some half-made thing with this part of me gone and I look and look but I can’t find it anywhere
I feel like I will never be whole again
I think of you all the time, DD, but especially on this day. I hope that, now, you are whole.
DD was pregnant with Bennett. He was due to arrive mid-January. Right before I left for Costa Rica, I threw DD a baby shower. I got Bennett the cutest little Giants outfit, complete with Giants booties. So. Cute!
DD was born with a heart problem and had open heart surgery when she was seven years old. Everything went along swimmingly until she was in her early 20s when she had to begin taking medication. Her friends didn’t realize the precariousness of her health. She never really talked about it and when it was brought up, acted like it was no big deal—she was fine. Really. Fine.
On Wednesday, DD just didn’t feel well and regrettably told her husband she didn’t think she could make the drive to L.A. Her husband called his sister and told her they would not be coming.
As the day progressed, DD kept feeling worse. It got to the point where she thought she should go to the hospital. Yes, she felt that bad.
Her husband took her to the emergency room. The emergency room doctor examined her and sent her home with flu symptoms.
Less than 12 hours later she was back in the hospital, Bennett was dead and DD was dying of toxemia.
DD and her husband were too devastated over the loss of their little boy to think about suing for medical malpractice. I bet they would have won that suit.
What follows is an undated journal entry from DD:
I feel like everything I look at—beautiful things that could fill me with happiness—now I only see them as fragments
As some pieces, shattered apart from the whole. Everything is incomplete, waiting for what is missing
I, too, am only some fragments now—some half-made thing with this part of me gone and I look and look but I can’t find it anywhere
I feel like I will never be whole again
I think of you all the time, DD, but especially on this day. I hope that, now, you are whole.
posted by nottotaled at 8:16 AM
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