An Amish Christmas Journey. Patricia Davids

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      “You and your sisters have brought me nothing but shame and hardship. Traveling with you will not bring me comfort.”

      Greta pressed her lips together to hold back her comment. She had come prepared to treat her uncle with civility, but his attitude was making it difficult. He hadn’t changed at all. If anything, he was openly hostile now. Before, he had taken pains to keep his cruelty hidden.

      The nurse pushed Morris toward a nearby door. “We will have more privacy inside our Quiet Room. I’m Mrs. Collins, the discharge nurse for our Cardiac Care Unit.”

      Greta rushed to hold open the door for them. The nurse said, “Why don’t you have a seat, Miss Barkman. I need to review Mr. Barkman’s going-home instructions with you both.”

      She pulled a clipboard from a pocket on the back of the wheelchair and stepped around to face Morris. She held out the clipboard and a pen. “I need your permission to share your medical information with your niece. Would you sign on the bottom, please?”

      “I don’t see why she needs to know anything.”

      “Your medications are complex and should you develop any problems, your niece must know what to do. A patient can’t very well take nitroglycerin if they are unconscious. This is hypothetical, of course, but you do see my point, don’t you?”

      Morris pulled the document toward him and scribbled his name across the bottom. “Tell her anything you like, but I don’t have to stay and listen to it.”

      “Very well. You may wait outside until Mr. Hooper can take you to the van.”

      Mrs. Collins wheeled Morris out and after a few minutes, the woman returned alone. She smiled as she sat down across from Greta. “I’m sorry. Your uncle has not been the most cooperative patient.”

      “That doesn’t surprise me. Please tell me what I need to know.”

      The nurse’s face softened. “Your uncle sustained a massive heart attack. The doctors here did a triple bypass surgery, but even with restored blood flow, some of his heart muscle has been severely damaged.”

      “I’m surprised he agreed to the surgery. It is not our way.”

      “We were surprised, as well, but I’m afraid in spite of the surgery his prognosis is not good.”

      Greta frowned. “I don’t understand.”

      “He continues to have episodes of chest pain, what we call unstable angina. He has medicine that he needs to take as soon as these episodes begin. The pain is caused by a lack of blood flow to his already weakened heart. Your uncle’s heart was so damaged that he is not a candidate for another procedure. The best we can offer is palliative care.”

      “What does this mean, palliative?” Greta thought she understood the sympathy in the woman’s words but she needed to be sure.

      “It means we want to make your uncle’s last months as comfortable as possible. He is not going to get better.”

      “Morris is dying?” Greta felt the air rush out of her lungs.

Chapter Three

      The man who made her life miserable for years would die soon.

      Greta took a deep, unsteady breath and looked at the nurse. “Does my uncle know he won’t get better?”

      Mrs. Collins nodded. “He is aware of his prognosis, but I don’t believe that he has accepted it. I’m sorry to give you such bad news. He tells us he has no close family or friends. Frankly, we were all very surprised by that. The Amish people we have treated in the past have been surrounded by caring family and church members.”

      Greta waited to feel something, anything, but all she felt was numb. Over the years, after some of her worst beatings at his hands, she had prayed that God would call him to judgment. God hadn’t answered her then. Why now?

      Her common sense reasserted itself. Her uncle’s illness was part of God’s larger plan. It had nothing to do with the wishes of the scared and angry girl she had once been.

      The scared, angry woman she still was.

      How many times had she offered her forgiveness up to God? And how many times had her anger raised its ugly head the way it was doing now? She didn’t want to hate him. She only wanted to be free of him. And soon she would be.

      This news changed so much. She wasn’t sure what to say to him or how to act. It suddenly struck her that this could be his last Christmas.

      Greta gripped her bag tightly. “How long do you think he has?”

      “Our best guess is a few months. With good care, it could be longer. We can’t say for sure.”

      “Of course. Only God knows when our time here is done. Is he...is he suffering?”

      “Angina attacks can be painful and very frightening, but on the whole he isn’t in pain. He does tire easily so make sure he gets enough rest.”

      “I will.” Greta looked at the floor. Could she take care of him? Why was God placing the burden on her?

      The nurse handed Greta several pamphlets and a typewritten list. “These are some important points for you to know. They cover diet suggestions, exercise, pain management, things that can make his quality of life better. I also have some information on end-of-life issues. You may want to look over this and discuss it with your family members and perhaps your minister. And with Mr. Barkman when he is ready.”

      Greta took the pamphlets and tucked them into her bag. “You mentioned something about medicines?”

      “Yes. These are his prescriptions. I will give your driver directions to a pharmacy near here. Your uncle has a vial of small white pills with him called nitroglycerin. He is to put one under his tongue at the first sign of chest pain. I have written out what you need to do if that doesn’t help. I know this is a lot for you to take in. Are you sure you are okay with this?”

      “I believe I understand everything you have said. What about his bill?”

      “That’s been covered in full.”

      By his church no doubt. At least his congregation had done that for him even if they wouldn’t take him in. It was strange that her uncle’s bishop hadn’t mentioned the fact in his letter.

      Mrs. Collins handed over a business card. “This is my personal number. Call me anytime you have questions. Day or night, it doesn’t matter. I only wish we could have done more for your uncle.”

      “He is in God’s hands. It is as the Lord wills.”

      “Yes. We are all in God’s hands. We all struggle to do the best we can in an imperfect world. I pray God gives both you and your uncle the comfort you need.”

      She rose to her feet and left Greta alone.

      * * *

      Toby spoke to the driver who was pushing the empty cart inside after having СКАЧАТЬ