Hi everyone,

The last few days have been extremely surreal. IA lot of stuff has happened, so this is pretty long! I’ve tried to make it worthy of Reader’s Digest for all of you.

Thursday
Oma phoned me and told me she had a headache. I asked her to describe it for me and she said it came and went, it was better in the morning and built up every evening. I asked her if the headache was in the front of her head near her eyes, and she said “yes.” I said, “It sounds like a sinus headache, Oma. I get those all the time, and it’s the right time of year for colds. Get some cold medication from any pharmacy, and make sure it says Sinus on it for it to work.” Oma and I were both satisfied that would solve everything, and she said she would pick up some sinus medication in the morning.

Saturday

12:00pm Oma phoned me. I could hear that she was short of breath as she said “Oh, Pauline, I’m so sick, I’m not sure if I should go to the hospital.” I asked her to describe her symptoms: Sweats, vomiting, dizziness, terrible headache, and she couldn’t sleep the night before. I was immediately concerned. Even if it was flu, it sounded pretty bad. I asked her if she had gotten her flu shot yet, and she said, “No, not until November.” A simple flu can have devastating effects on the health of the elderly, so I said, “Oma, if you’re worried enough to consider going to the hospital, just go!!” I offered to call an ambulance for her on my cell phone and stay on the regular phone with her, but she refused. She said, “Elfriede was here with me for two hours last night, she is going to come over and see how I’m doing this afternoon after she does her grocery shopping.” I really wanted her to go to the hospital right away without waiting for Elfriede, but she really didn’t want to go, and those of you who know Oma will know that even if I had called an ambulance without her permission, she might have refused to go. Oma said she wanted to try eating some soup, and I gave up and told her, “I’ll call you in half an hour to see how you’re feeling.” After I hung up with Oma I called my Mother, explained the situation, and told her to stay near the phone.

12:30pm When I phoned Oma she didn’t sound any better to me, but she said she felt a little better. I tried to push the idea of going to the hospital or, at the very least, a walk-in clinic, but she just wanted to try to have a little nap and wait for Elfriede. I told her I would call her after an hour. After hanging up, I called Mother again. I also MSN’d my Auntie Jan (she’s a nurse) and explained Oma’s symptoms to her. She confirmed what Mother and I had feared; these were all signs of a heart attack.

1:30pm I phoned Oma. She had slept a little but she sounded horrible. So short of breath she had to pause several times during the sentence, she said to me, “I want to go to the IGA to buy some chicken breasts.”
At that point I got a little upset. I wondered why she had called me if she wasn’t going to listen to my advice, and the fact that she was more interested in chicken breasts than seeking medical attention seemed ridiculous. I said to her, “Oma, you HAVE to go see a doctor! This could be a flu, but it’s the same symptoms as a heart attack!!”
“What?!” Oma gasped. Finally I had her attention. I hadn’t wanted to scare her into seeing a doctor, but nothing else was working! I told her, “I don’t care if you go to the emergency room or a walk-in clinic, just PLEASE go see a doctor right away! Don’t wait for Elfriede!” Oma finally agreed to go to the walk-in clinic next to the IGA. I told her to go to the clinic before she went grocery shopping. She agreed and we hung up.

7:00pm I thought that if Oma had indeed gone to the walk-in clinic and everything was ok, she would be home by 7:00, so I phoned her house. There was no answer. I called Scarborough General Hospital and told them that I was looking for my grandmother and gave them her name. The operator transferred me to Emergency.
The Emergency attendant took my name and phone number and said she would have Oma call me back using the hospital phone. Not too long after, I got a phone call from Oma’s friend Elfriede. She was calling me from just outside the hospital, using the cell phone I had helped Oma buy.

Elfriede and her husband had taken Oma to the Emergency room at 2:00pm. We all know how long it usually takes to see a doctor at the ER, but because of Oma’s symptoms and the fact that she was vomiting in the waiting room, she got to see a doctor right away. The hospital thought it was a heart attack and started running tests right away, but it wasn’t her heart. At the time that I spoke to Elfriede, the doctors thought she might actually have low sodium levels. I asked Elfriede to let Oma know I would be there if she wanted me, and asked Elfriede to please call me once she and her husband got home. I updated Mother after I hung up.

9:00pm Elfriede phoned me to say that she and her husband had left the hospital at 8:00 and that Oma was quite tired. Because she’s not family, doctors wouldn’t tell Elfriede anything beyond that they needed to run more tests. Elfriede said Oma seemed happy that I would be there, and told me that visiting hours started at 11:00am so not to bother arriving earlier. I thanked Elfriede, hung up, updated Mother, and packed a bag just in case it was something serious and I’d need to stay a few days. I put a notepad in my purse to write down any information/instructions the doctor might give us. I didn’t sleep very well.

Sunday
Andy and I got to Scarborough General Hospital around 11:30am. As I was walking up to a desk to ask where I could find her, I heard a doctor on the phone say Oma’s name and something about “St. Michael’s Hospital.” “That’s my grandmother!” I exclaimed to the doctor, and then tried to wait patiently while the doctor finished his phone call, and then he looked me in the eye.

There were a lot of things I expected the doctor to say: Bird flu, West Nile, heart attack, some kind of infection or dietary deficiency… I had never even CONSIDERED that he might look at me and say

“Your grandmother has a brain tumour.”

Before he could tell me anything else, I gasped, “I need to write this down.” I started to reach for my purse, but the nurse next to him grabbed a piece of paper and gave it to me. I grabbed a pen and began to scribble everything I could, but my hands were shaking. The next thing I said was, “is it operable?”

The doctor explained to me that yes, it was operable. The tumour was located on the left side at the back of her skull near her neck. He had just arranged for an ambulance to transfer Oma to St. Michael’s Hospital, where further tests would be run and a surgeon consulted. I asked if Oma knew yet, and he told me that yes, he had already told her. He pointed me towards Oma’s room and said he would be in in a little while to explain the transfer to Oma.

When Andy and I got to Oma’s room, she was sitting up in bed. There was an IV attached to her arm and, because of the dizziness, she was already hooked up to a catheter. She gave us a little smile and calmly asked us if the doctor had told us.

I wanted to keep Oma’s focus (and mine too) off the tumour as much as possible. I asked her if I could pack a bag of personal things for her. She told me what she wanted from home, and I promised we’d water the plants too. I asked if there was anyone she wanted us to phone. Among others, she asked me to update Elfriede, and asked me to call Elvira from her church to let her know that Oma wouldn’t be available to do any work for the church or charity functions for a while, so someone else would have to do them for a change. She also told me to ask the nice family across the street to keep an eye on the house for her.

The doctor came in and explained to Oma that an ambulance was on its way to transfer her to St. Michael’s. Shortly after, we could see an ambulance parked outside, waiting, and paramedics came up to get her. We decided that Andy and I would go to Oma’s house first (since it’s so close to Scarborough General), get her things, water the plants, make phone calls, and then meet her at St. Michael’s in downtown Toronto.

Once Andy and I were at Oma’s house, we could see evidence of how sick she had been feeling. Oma keeps an immaculate house, but her bed was unmade and the dishes were dirty; she had been too sick to take care of them. A great believer in herbal medicine, two canisters of dried herbs and a pot of peppermint tea were sitting on the kitchen counter. All of Oma’s books on herbal medicine were spread out on the table. She had been trying to fix the problem without going to the doctor. We took care of everything and left for St. Michael’s.

We found Oma in the emergency room. Over the next few hours, many doctors and nurses came in to ask her questions, take her blood pressure, and test various things. One young doctor brought in a disposable razor and gently shaved a few small patches of hair from Oma’s head to attach electrodes and tell us a little bit about the surgery. We asked him when the surgery would be, thinking it would be in a few days, but he told us, “It’s going to be tonight.” Oma asked him, “Is the surgeon going to be too tired?” The doctor told us that the surgeon had gone home to sleep as soon as the transfer had been arranged so he would be fresh and ready.

Another doctor arrived to take Oma to get an MRI and sign papers. The doctor asked Oma if she wanted me to be able to make decisions and speak for her if she was unable to do so, and Oma said, “Oh, yes! My Pauline takes good care of me!” We signed papers to that effect.
We couldn’t accompany Oma into the MRI and the doctor told us it would take about forty minutes, so I told Oma I would meet her afterwards. Andy and I went to the parking lot where our car was and got the laptop computer out of the trunk. Miraculously, there was an unsecured wireless internet signal, so I e-mailed my students and my boss that class on Monday would be cancelled. Since my mother would be arriving the next day, and there are only two visitors allowed at a time, there was no point in Andy staying. I drove him to the bus station a few blocks away from the hospital and he went home, taking the laptop with him (it didn’t seem wise to leave it in the trunk of the car in downtown Toronto all night). I got back to Oma’s curtained room in the ER about ten minutes before she did.

Soon after, the surgeon arrived to talk to us about the operation. His name is Dr. Julian Spears. For those of you wondering who he is, here’s some information:
http://www.surg.med.utoronto.ca/faculty/spears.html
http://medical-imaging.utoronto.ca/fellowship/inrfell.htm

Dr. Spears explained to us that Oma’s tumour was about five centimeters (3 inches) wide. It was at the back of her head on the left side and was actually eating into her skull. It was putting pressure on her brain (hence the headache, dizziness, and vomiting) and was pressing into her spinal cord. She might have had that tumour slowly growing for many years; she might even have had it since she was a child.

He then explained to us how the operation would work, and told us that this particular type of tumour and operation has a 95% success rate. But then he explained the myriad of complications that could happen with the other 5%. I knew he was legally obligated to explain the risks to us, but inside my head I was screaming, Oma always focuses on the negative! Stop talking! Stop talking! Dr. Spears told Oma that she could have the surgery that night, wait a few days to think about it and phone people, or refuse the surgery altogether. He then left us alone to talk.

Oma didn’t want the surgery. She wanted to go home to die. She said, “I’m 77 years old. What do I have left to look forward to? I should just take painkillers at home until it’s over. I want a peaceful death, not those complications that are going to happen.”
I told her, “There’s a 95% chance that everything’s going to be fine! Don’t focus on that stupid 5%. And if you go home it’s not going to be a peaceful death. Every day is going to be like Saturday and it’s going to get worse and worse every day for weeks until you die.”

The doctor came back to talk to us and asked if we had any questions. Oma asked him how much experience he had. He told us that he had done this specific operation twenty times in the last year. Oma asked if all of them had been successful, and he said, “No, I’m not going to lie to you. 5% of them experienced those complications.” Oma told him, “I don’t want to lose my independence, and I won’t be allowed to drive after the surgery.” The doctor said, “You can’t drive now! With the dizziness and vomiting you could cause an accident.”
Oma asked me what I thought. I told her, “Just do the surgery now and get it over with. If you wait a few days they’ll have to do all the tests all over again, and you’ll be dizzy and uncomfortable the whole time while you’re torturing yourself thinking about it.” Oma argued back, “I don’t feel that bad right now!” I pointed to the IV bag that was the only reason she wasn’t feeling worse.

The doctor left us alone again for a little while. Oma said, “Those young doctors just want to cut me up for practice! That surgeon is only thirty years old! What do those young doctors know?” I argued back, “I’m almost thirty, he’s definitely older than that! And I would rather have a younger doctor who’s got more stamina and better eyesight and knows all the newest techniques!”
We argued the same things over and over. Finally the doctor came back. I asked Oma if she couldn’t do the surgery for herself, could she do it for me? She sighed and agreed to go ahead with the surgery that night. We signed more papers.

At 8:00pm nurses and porters arrived to transport Oma to the surgery floor. I was allowed to stay with her until the moment they wheeled her into the hallway to the operating room. I hugged and kissed her and squeezed her hands and promised I would pray. I smiled and looked as cheerful and confident as I could, but I had to blink pretty hard.

Then they took her down the hall where I couldn’t follow. I was the only person left in the OR floor. I went to the waiting room where I was alone and prayed for the doctors and nurses and Oma. Oma had not been allowed to eat or drink all day so I had avoided eating or drinking in front of her, and I was starving. I went to the Subway restaurant beside the hospital for some food, phoned Andy and Mother to let them know she was in surgery, and went back to the OR waiting room to eat and mark essays.

Dr. Spears had told me that the surgery would take about four hours, but at 11:30pm, half an hour ahead of schedule, Dr. Spears came into the OR waiting room and said, “Everything went great! We got almost all of it. It looks like the tumour is benign and not cancerous, but it’ll take about seven to ten days to find out for sure. She’s coming out of the anesthesia now and moving her extremities. You’ll be able to see her in the ICU in about an hour. Then you should go get some sleep.”

I thanked Dr. Spears profusely and headed outside to phone Andy and Mother to tell them the good news. I reported to the ICU and told them that I would be in the waiting room until I was allowed in. I marked more papers in the ICU waiting room until a young nurse came to get me and told me that I could come in. While she was escorting me to the ICU she said, “She’s speaking German.” I told her, “That’s normal for her! Anytime she’s nervous or excited or anxious, she starts speaking German without even realizing it. Speak English, she’ll understand you perfectly.” The nurse said, “Oh, ok,” and smiled, and I could see her relax. She must have been worried that it was a bad sign.

Oma was lying in her bed with a green towel wrapped and taped around her head. I could see spots of blood and iodine on her face, a line in her neck, and multiple IVs in her arms. An oxygen mask was over her face and when she spoke the drugs made her mumble, making her thick accent even harder to understand. I had to “translate” what she said to the nurses several times.
I took her hand and she squeezed it hard. I told her, “Oma, everything went great!” She mumbled, “That’s what they keep telling me.” Her tone of voice told me she didn’t believe me. I told her what the doctor had told me and reminded her that I wouldn’t lie to her, and she said, “Then it was worth it.”

Oma’s nurse, Diane, introduced herself to me. She said “She’s a feisty one!” While Oma was coming out of the anesthetic, she had had a nightmare that she was in the cemetery where her husbands are buried. She had tried to get out of the cemetery, which means she had been struggling with the nurses to try to get out of bed. Diane commented on how strong Oma was, and I said, “That’s my Oma! She has no gentle cycle.” Diane liked that so much she told it to the next nurse who came by.

Oma was freezing, especially her feet, so Diane put many blankets on her to warm her up. I sat in a chair next to Oma’s bed so I could hold her hand under a blanket. Oma complained that her stomach hurt, and Diane explained to me that before opening her skull, the doctor had removed some fat from Oma’s stomach. If removing the tumour left holes in her brain, the doctor would be able to use the fat to plug the holes. They ended up not needing the fat, but it was important to have it ready in case they needed it.
T
he nurses were constantly asking Oma “What year is it? Who’s the Prime Minister? What’s your last name? Who’s this girl with you?” Oma answered everything perfectly. Diane told me that Oma would not be allowed to sleep for more than an hour at a time without being woken for questioning, and the next day she would not be allowed to sleep for more than two hours for questioning. Oma complained that the oxygen mask was bothering her, so the nurses moved it and said as long as her oxygen levels stayed up, she wouldn’t need it. At 1:30am Diane told me I should go get some sleep. I asked Oma if she wanted me to stay with her, but she told me to go get some sleep too. I went to Oma’s house and tossed and turned most of the night; I slept for about two hours.

Monday
In the morning I called Oma’s friends to let them know everything had gone well and headed to the hospital when visiting hours started at 11:00am. I asked Oma if she remembered me visiting with her the night before, and she did. Mother arrived soon after, having taken the bus down from Ottawa.

The nurses continued to ask Oma questions occasionally throughout the day. Oma was put on a liquid diet, but she was unable to feed herself well with a spoon; her coordination wasn’t quite back yet. Mother fed her lunch and helped her sip water. Oma hates cold liquids and wouldn’t drink the water and apple juice because it was too cold, so I sat in a chair with a sealed container of apple juice between my thighs to warm it up to room temperature for her. Most of our day was spent watching Oma alternately doze for a few minutes, and then talking to her. Her speech gradually began to clear from the mumbling caused by the anesthetic the night before.

Around 4:30pm the physiotherapist Zia came by. Zia was so friendly and kind and energetic we all liked her immediately. Zia asked Oma more questions, and then asked her to do various movements with her hands. She then asked me and Mother if we wouldn’t mind stepping out of the ICU for about twenty minutes while she and Oma’s day nurse, Karen, got Oma out of bed to see if she could stand and walk a few steps.

When we returned, Oma was fast asleep with the first really deep sleep we had seen her in. We had a whispered conversation with Zia, who told us that Oma had taken about three steps, which is quite good. We happily watched Oma sleep for about forty minutes. We knew that visitors were required to leave during the shift change from 7pm to 8pm, and we had already told Oma that Mother and I were going to go get some dinner that hour, so we left a little early to let her sleep in peace.

When we got back from dinner after the shift change, Diane was back for the night and Oma was awake. Oma had slept for about two hours, a good solid sleep. Oma had missed dinner time during her nap and her soup was cold, so Diane microwaved it and poured it into a cup so Oma could hold it and sip at it herself. After drinking her soup, I spoon fed Oma some Jello, since her coordination still wasn’t quite up to holding a spoon. We helped her brush her teeth as well; Oma held and used the toothbrush herself, we helped her sip water for rinsing and then she spit into an empty cup.

Visiting hours ended at 9pm so Mother and I kissed Oma goodnight and went home. Mother slept, but I eventually gave up trying to sleep and marked essays instead.

Tuesday
Mother and I stopped at Wal-Mart before going to the hospital to buy some Grip-socks (warm cozy socks with rubber grip spots on the bottom) so Oma could keep her feet warm and practice walking without slipping. When we got to the hospital and reported to the ICU, we were told that she had been moved to the regular floor!

Once we reached her room, it took me a second to recognize her. The green towel had been removed and her hair was streaked with red and yellow. It took me a moment to realize that it was blood and chemicals from the surgery, and with Oma’s white hair, everything showed. All the IVs had also been removed from her arms and neck, and she had just finished eating a solid food lunch!
With the towel gone, Oma asked me and Mother to have a look at the incision and describe it to her. The scar starts about 5cm above her ear and continues in a slightly curved line down the back of her head to her neck. The scar is about 15cm long and held with staples. Once her hair grows back it will be invisible.

The doctor had told Oma to practice standing and walking, so Mother and I helped her to stand. She couldn’t move far with the catheter, and she really wanted it taken out, so a nurse came and took it out. The nurse and I helped Oma into the bathroom and helped her to sit on the toilet. Oma wanted a washcloth to wash her face, so I held her clothes up away from the toilet while the nurse got her a nice warm washcloth. Oma didn’t pee, but she farted mightily, and then she felt much better.

After we helped Oma back to her room, the physiotherapist Zia came in with her assistant, Edgar. Zia and Edgar helped Oma to go for a walk around the ward. Oma held on to Zia with her right hand and Edgar with her left. At first her steps were slow shuffles, but as they continued, her steps became smoother and faster. Mother and I followed behind, watching with delight. Back in her room Zia helped Oma into a chair and practiced fast movements with her hands. Mother and I watched Oma accomplish all of them with a smile on her face. When she was done, Zia gave Oma homework; walking around the ward one more time that day, sitting in the chair instead of the bed, and using the bathroom. Zia was insistent that Oma ask for help doing these things and not to just do them by herself! Zia said Oma was doing so well she might even be able to go home as early as Thursday.

Oma was pretty tired after all that work, so she had a little nap. After she woke up, she sat in the chair and ate a cup of applesauce all by herself. And while she was eating, I noticed something fascinating. As long as I can remember, Oma’s hands have shaken violently whenever she’s eating; if she’s eating soup, half of it falls off her spoon before it reaches her mouth. But watching her eat applesauce, her hands were STILL; there was hardly any shaking at all! Could the tumour have been what was causing her shaking all those years?
We helped Oma brush her teeth, and then I had to head for home. When I called Mother later in the evening, she told me that Edgar had helped Mother to take Oma for another walk later in the evening, and she had gone pretty fast!

Wednesday
I called Mother for an update this evening, and she told me that Oma seems almost ready to go home; she was complaining about the hospital food and wanting to sleep in her own bed. Zia had Oma do a whole flight of stairs, Oma’s going to the bathroom without any help, and she walked around the ward with hardly any help at all. Nurses also used a special waterless shampoo to wash the stuff out of her hair. It’s very possible that she might go home tomorrow.
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For something that started with such horrible news, everything has gone amazingly well; her diagnosis was almost immediate, her surgeon did a fantastic job, and her recovery is going faster than anyone had anticipated. It has really turned into a miracle.

My Uncle noticed Oma's hands shaking as she gradually began to get her strength back and started working around the house again. My Uncle and I discussed it and it seems to us that the shaking is caused by her anxiety, which has definitely NOT gone away and never will. The way we see it, when Oma was in the hospital and when she was in early recovery, she HAD to relax. When she was relaxing her anxiety level was low and her hands didn't shake. But as her strength returned and she could start doing housework again, she started to go overboard with making sure all the housework was perfect (as usual) and her anxiety level rose back to its normal high, and her hands once again started to shake.

I'm sure she still has Post Traumatic Stress left over from World War II. She still has nightmares about the bombs and if she hears a loud bang her first thought is that it might be a bomb. I have no hope now of getting her any psychiatric help. She didn't want to get any in the first place; a few months ago I convinced her to try Paxil. She took it for three days, and then that weekend she went in to the hospital and they discovered the tumour. Now she associates the horrible symptoms (headache, dizziness, vomitting, etc) with the Paxil, and there's no way she's going to take it or any antianxiety medicine again. It's so frustrating!

She is now also blaming her depression/anxiety/any other problems on the tumour and won't acknowledge that some of her problems are real and significant and still there and can't be brushed off onto the tumour.

Sis, this is such good news! I hope that your gramma's neurological problems diminish as a result of getting rid of the tumour. I hope y'all really live it up for the holidays this year - you have MUCH to celebrate!

sister awake, it is great news about oma. it is so cool she got to see the before and after pictures. that must have been a huge thrill, too bad she couldn't get a couple of 5x7's blown up and framed. she would talk about them just like her grandchildren! it is too bad the hematoma is not coming along as great. she will be in my prayers or a full recovery. tell us, is the tremor still gone and have you noticed any other things that may have improved or changed after the removal of the tumor?

Wonderful news about Oma. This may help with many of her issues. Fascinating report o this tumor. I hope I never find out first hand about this sort of thing. Thanks Sis.

Oma had her follow-up appointment with the surgeon today. I had to work and wasn't able to be there, but Mother went with her.
Oma first had a CT scan early in the morning, and then after the surgeon had had a chance to review it, they had an appointment. The doctor showed Oma a picture of the tumour (he'd taken it with his cell phone) and showed her the CT scans BEFORE and AFTER the surgery, so she could see the difference. Mother said the tumour looked massive in the picture. In the angle shown in the CT scan, it took up a third of the space inside her skull. The picture from this morning - without the tumour - showed that Oma's brain had "bounced back" to fill the space that the tumour had been occupying (like when you squish a sponge and then let it go and it expands to its full shape again).
The doctor assured Oma that she was in no danger of the tumour growing back. Oma was delighted with the whole appointment and fascinated to see the scans (she had been hoping to see them). The doctor also assured us that this is not, as far as science knows, a genetic problem, so my family and I can breathe a little easier.
Mother said that the doctor seemed absolutely tickled pink by everything. Apparently this is a rare tumour type and he's quite excited to be able to see one and describe it to his students!
A CT scan was also done of the hematoma on Oma's stomach, since it's not healing the way it should. Oma should get a call by Friday letting her know what doctors want to do about it. Hopefully they won't have to do any kind of surgery on it.
Oma and my parents went to Oma's favourite restaurant for lunch to celebrate all the good news.

Pathology identified the tumour as an "embryonic epidermoid cholesteatoma." I'm no doctor so don't sue me if I get some details wrong, but as far as I understand "cholesteatoma" is an abnormal skin growth, so Oma's tumour was basically a huge ball of skin! They are most common in ears and attached to ear drums, so the fact that it was at the back of her head and pressing on her spine was odd indeed.
"Embryonic" means that the tumour started growing when Oma was still just an embryo, and was slowly growing over the last 77 years (78 years if you count when my great-grandmother was pregnant).
So basically, as us normal non-doctors understand it, at some point when my great-grandmother was pregnant with Oma, a tin skin cell somehow migrated to the back/inside of Oma's skull, where it multiplied and grew undetected for almost eight decades. Gracious.

sister awake. it is dreat to hear of oma's progress. i pray for a full and fiesty recovery for her. great women run in your family. it was a terrifying experence but together you made it happen. god bless you and keep going. oma will be looking for the step ladder in no time! also, as things calm down you will be able to look at submitting your story to a magazine. it was well written. never hurts for an english teacher to be published! might be good on the resume. or contract negotiations! it is a moving story and full of hope and love.

Oma is doing well. Her head and hematoma on her stomach are healing well. She needs to get her strength back still, but she's on her way; she can't handle the vacuum yet but she can do dishes. She had her first shower completely on her own yesterday and didn't have any problems.
My Uncle is going back to California this weekend, so I asked Oma as well as my Uncle if they both felt comfortable and confident with her being on her own for the weekdays, and they both agreed that she should be fine. Mother and I are going to visit on the weekends (we'll alternate) so we can help her with the housecleaning and grocery shopping and such, so she doesn't have to do them on her own.
Oma can't drive for at least another four weeks (legally because of the brain surgery), so Oma has the number of a pharmacy nearby that delivers, and she has friends at church who can pick up groceries for her if she needs things during the week. There is a grocery delivery service in her area where customers can order online, so if she needs bigger grocery orders, she can phone me and take her time telling me what food and what brands she wants, I'll order it online, and it'll be delivered to her door.
It seems like everything is going as smoothly as it could possibly go. We have been extremely blessed in this whole situation.

sister awake, how is your oma's recovery coming? is there an update?

Sunday afternoon my Uncle flew in from California to help Oma for the next two weeks. I'm very glad he could come; he's a helpful guy and he can handle Oma pretty well!
I drove my uncle to Oma's house and Oma is doing very well. She's moving around the house pretty well, but she tires easily. Thankfully she's being sensible and letting other people do the heavy work. Her head is healing well, but the hematoma on her abomen is disdended and her whole middle is covered in black and blue bruises. It will heal eventually. I asked Oma to hold a fork and her hands are still not shaking, which is super cool!

Oma Update:

Oma went home Thursday. She's doing very well and, except for being a little tired (she did just have brain surgery 5 days ago, after all) she's getting back to her normal, feisty, domineering, independent self.

My Uncle is going to fly up from California Sunday or Monday hopefully, so he can take over from Mother. Oma really dislikes the idea of having the required Home Safety Assessment, let alone Homecare, and she's recovering so fast that by the time my Uncle goes back home she won't need ANYONE.

Oma and your mom and you are newest favorite heroines. It's wonderful to get such good news on this forum!

sis, your oma is truely an amazing lady. thank god for such skilled people to help her and for you being there to encourage her to go for it. god bless you all.

Sis, so HAPPY to hear how well your Oma did with all of this! It amazes me the energy that lives at the core of some of our elders! Sounds to me like she's nowhere near ready to check out anytime soon! Here's hoping that the surgery gives her another decade or two of healthy, vital years! Many blessings to all of you!

Sis, your report of OMAs situation is going to be a help to us all. Thank you. Right now, I am at a loss to acknoledge all you have been through. What troopers!! you and your Mom.

Thank you for sharing. We all hope for good news and a speedy recovery.