Story Of Ann

So yesterday, I ended my therapy and it was better than expected.  The therapist said I actually have until April 2013 should I want to go back to her for anything or even just to check in before calling the insurance company ; which is quite re-assuring.  I was on a high all day since my life seems to be getting better.

Then, comes today. ..

My husband went to the convalescent home where a friend is that I go visit.    There are two people there we know.  One is a partner (not his wife, it’s a long story) of his friend and the other is my friend, Ann, whom I have been visiting in convalescent homes for years.  Ann is 96 years old.  I met Ann when I went with a friend who had met her with her daughters Girl Scout Group.  Needless to say the friend stopped visiting and I did not.  Ann is the reason we moved my mother to the same convalescent home she was in.  Not long ago,  Ann had a stroke and was moved to the 2nd & current  facility.  Ann has alway’s had my phone number in her phone books and I have begged her to give it to her family time and time again.  Needless to say she was moved but nobody told me where.  After discovering what city she had been moved to, I started calling convalescent homes and she happened to be in the same one my husbands friend is in.  Yeah, so I can visit both of them when I go.

However, Ann’s health is really bad now and she hardly knows me anymore.  It’s getting really depressing coming here.  This is not the Ann I knew and loved.  Plus, my mother died a little over a year ago.  Since then, the whole thought of visiting those types of homes depresses me..and in the last few months my health has not been good enough to visit.

The last time I saw Ann, she wasn’t doing well.  I left my card.  I left one with her personally and I left one at the nurses station with a note.  “I am a friend of Ann’s. Please Call Me if anything happens.”

It’s today.  My husband went to the convalescent home to see his friends partner with his friend.  I said, “Please check on Ann and see if she is there.”  He calls me.  She was discharged last month.  I call the home.  But, I’m shaking.  I know.  In the back of my mind..I hope I’m wrong.  I google her name as they switch me from desk to desk.  I find it in the obituary.  ANN BUNTROCK.    It was published in the O.C. Register on June 9th, 2012.  I’m reading it as the girl on the phone says “If you’re not a relative we cannot give you any information.”  I say, “Can you give me the phone number of a relative so I can call them?” and they say “No, due to the Privacy Act.” or something like that.  I can’t hear them now because I know and I’m crying.  It doesn’t matter.  What matters is…

I Found It.  She is gone and despite my request, NOBODY CALLED ME!..NOBODY TOLD ME!  I MIGHT HAVE MADE IT TO THE SERVCE IF SOMEONE HAD LET ME KNOW.  Yes, I am upset.  Yes, the tears are starting again.  When my mother died, I called everyone in her phone books.    Ann had a large family, I met her son once..why did no one remember and just assume I would read The Register that day?

*I hope yesterday wasn’t a bad day to end it with my therapist..