Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [92]
It took several weeks, but eventually Nett could use the bathroom and feed herself—with a little help. Nett loved to look at television, though she couldn’t remember what it was called. Nett’s only physical feature to survive her eighteen-month ordeal intact was her hair. The long, jet-black hair that Rhonda had so admired as a child was now a beautiful salt-and-pepper mane that framed Nett’s thin, pale face.
Nett was sitting in her wheelchair one night, watching television while Rhonda combed and brushed her hair, when she started hallucinating. Nett, who could never deal with the sound of someone screaming, began screaming loudly and waving her hands frantically in the air as if to ward off some imaginary attacker. The children ran into the room. Damon crouched down in a mock karate pose, ready to defend his Nana.
“What’s the matter?” Rhonda said, trying to calm Nett down. “What’s the matter?”
“Help me! Please, help me!” Nett cried out. “Don’t let it get me!” She was terrified.
“What, Nana? What’s trying to get you?”
“Help! Help! Please, help me!” Nett was crying. Rhonda tried to maneuver the wheelchair in another direction so that whatever Nett was seeing would be out of sight.
“I’m not going to let it get you. What is it?” Rhonda asked.
“It’s a goat! I’m afraid. Please help me.”
“We won’t let it bother you. Damon, take it away!”
Damon caught on fast. “See, Nana. He’s nice. He’s not going to hurt you. I’ll put him over here.” Nett stopped swinging her arms around long enough to watch Damon move the goat.
“Who brought that thing in here?” Nett asked.
“It came by itself. I’ll put it out. Okay, Nana?” Damon was in complete control. He walked over to the door, opened it, put the goat out, and closed the door. “See? It’s gone.”
“Who let that nasty thing in here? I’m afraid of them, you know. Why did you let it in here?” Rhonda tried to think of an answer.
“Oh, Nana, you know how they are. They’re all over the place.”
The scene was more than Gemmia could handle. She was standing in the middle of the room, wailing. She was inconsolable; she couldn’t believe what was happening to her grandmother. She was sure that her Nana was dying. Her Nana, who made perfect pancakes and played war and never forgot your birthday.
“She not dying, Gemmia,” Rhonda assured her. “She’s sick and she’s getting better.”
“Well, I don’t even know who she is anymore! And she doesn’t know who I am most of the time. It’s just like she’s dead.”
Rhonda felt the same way, but she wouldn’t admit it to the children or to herself. It was true that, as the voice of Nett’s mother, Ivy, had promised, Nett wasn’t suffering anymore, but she certainly was not the same person Rhonda had known most of her life.
Visiting nurses were in and out every day. Medical supplies were being delivered every other day. The electricity bill was outrageous. Nett’s hallucinations were traumatic for everyone who witnessed them. The children needed some peace at home. Gemmia, in particular, was a nervous wreck. Rhonda needed to get back to law school. She was doing all she could do to care for the only mother she had ever known. But she was quickly approaching the point where she would have to let go.
Three months after Nett moved in, Rhonda decided to move her back to her own home. Rhonda had continued to pay the rent on Nett’s apartment in the projects, hoping that one day Nett would be well. She never thought she’d be sending her back there under these circumstances. She talked to the children about it, and they agreed that Nana would be fine at home. They offered to visit and help out when Rhonda returned to law school. She called the Department of Social Services, and they approved the hiring of a full-time home attendant to care for Nett.
Rhonda had to get up the courage to tell Nett. When she did, Nett cried. Rhonda was heartbroken; she felt as though she had failed to