Within my first year of taking a huge risk and opening my own clinic, I met Mary Plettl. I could recognize her voice any time she phoned - whether she was in pain or calling out of the blue with a question.
She experienced one of my most awkwardly embarrassing days.
The first employee I had ever hired mentally snapped, probably due to many stressful events in her life. All I could do was look at Mary and apologize for that employee's outburst and verbal assault directed toward me. Mary was as understanding as any Mom or Grandma. Her acceptance of the unexpected was pickled with graciousness and humor. I mean she didn't even bat an eye over the exchange and actually focused on ensuring she fully trusted me and didn't believe anything she had just heard.
I remember our laughs... There are times I am saddened by colleagues and their odd beliefs that are not supported with evidence. Mary shared a story about her previous experience with physical therapy. Although she was older, she knew when someone was pulling the wool over her eyes. Apparently, this colleague was using very light touch and telling Mary she was listening to her back. Mary and I had a continual inside joke about what exactly her back was saying. Often times I'd start a treatment session with a twinkle in my eye telling her that it was time to "listen to her back." Mary would always laugh and play along wanting to know what it was saying.
I always loved Mary's honesty with herself. She was never looking for miracles or outrageous expectations. She may have been older, but not once did she take advantage of Medicare and appropriately utilized services. Mary was the type of person who really did demonstrate accountability and responsibility. Well... except for that time she just had to clean something or another and climbed up on her bed and hurt her hip. She owed up to her lack of judgement and readily recognized that she really shouldn't be doing that type of activity. We both chalked that incident up to her missing me. :)
The last time I saw her, she had a lot of hip pain. I know she had a lot of hip pain, but her walking pattern was different. Generally when she hurt, she'd limp and use an assistive devise. That day she wasn't. She was walking so slowly and kind of leaning/dragging the right leg along as she walked. The wind was out of her sails and she wasn't herself. She just wasn't her spunky self quickly responding to my questions. Thankfully her daughter was present so I could better understand Mary's current situation. I wasn't as concerned about her hip as much as her abnormal breathing rate and her history of heart problems and her lack of spunk. I mentally battled whether 911 should be called or not. I was mentally trying to deny that Mary might have something seriously wrong with her. My last image of her: waving to me on the gurney as they transported her to the ambulance.
Thirty days later I learned the rest of the story. Mary had the unfortunate experience of being a statistic. She became a CDC fungal meningitis statistic. Mary was always, always so much more than a statistic to me. As soon as her daughter phoned and updated us, I called Mary at the hospital. (I had to hear her voice.) Oh, my goodness, her voice brought a smile to my face. She sounded like the spunky Mary I loved. She was in great spirits and was going to fight and beat the fungal meningitis. I happened to think of her a few weeks later and wanted an update on her health. I called the hospital again... this time there was no answer. I learned from the main hospital number that Mary was in the emergency room. I knew that meant she had probably been discharged to a rehabilitation facility, but what I didn't know was what went wrong. I called her the next day and heard her voice for one last time. My heart sunk. She was admitted because her legs felt paralyzed. My heart sunk because her voice wasn't the same... she had a difficult time finding words and she didn't have the life or spunk to her voice. She even apologized for not calling me because the hospital phone didn't have long distance service. It still brings tears to my eyes knowing that she was even thinking of me during her current situation.
On November 3, 2012, Mary passed away. She passed away because of the irresponsibility of one company. I know we all have to die one day, but it just doesn't sit right that she died due to a tainted injection she received in August. I am so sorry for her family's loss. Knowing how special she was to me, I can't even imagine how special she was to all of them. I am honored to have been chosen to be a part of her life. Although I am sad, I also appreciate that I was touched by her. I treasure the conversations I had with Mary and I will miss her.
Until next time,
~Selena
Photo by rwangsa via Flickr
1 comment:
Sorry to hear, Selena. My thoughts and prayers are with you and Mary's family.
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