What I didn’t know was that we wouldn’t have a truly joyous Christmas again for a long time to come.
9
* * *
A TURN FOR THE WORSE
By the time the New Year rolled around, we couldn’t wait to get my mom into the rehabilitation facility for patients who’ve had tracheotomies. Also, since she’d been lying in bed in the hospital for a month, her muscles were atrophying and she was very weak. On top of that, she already had rheumatoid arthritis. There was no way we could bring her home without a nurse to be with her 24-7. And there was no way my father would have been able to completely take care of her. Neither could I. I had four kids to deal with on my own. I couldn’t believe it was yet another horrible thing for my family to deal with. When would it end? Why was this happening to us?
Still, even though I was beside myself, I was happy that the breathing tube was out. All I wanted was for her to be awake. She wasn’t able to communicate with us right away, because it takes time and practice to be able to talk and make sounds after a tracheotomy, but eventually she was able to speak to us. That was a relief.
The plan was for her to go to rehab, have the trach removed so the hole could close up, and then go back to her normal life. But things didn’t go as smoothly as we would have liked. While she was in rehab, it was always something. Her blood pressure was low, or she needed more potassium, or her sodium was low. Her condition was up and down like a roller coaster, which was very stressful, but we were pushing her to get better. They were doing physical therapy with her as much as possible—they couldn’t do too much of it until the trach was removed. So they would just do exercises in bed with her, trying to get her muscles going again. We couldn’t wait to get that trach out. They were constantly monitoring her oxygen, and she was in so much pain from her rheumatoid arthritis. She couldn’t sleep at night.
We didn’t leave her side. As with the hospital, my brother or I slept at the rehab facility every night, alternating on and off. I wouldn’t make him sleep there more than one night in a row, because I felt badly that he had to get up early and work. We were up all night with her. They tried to give her sleeping medicine, but the pain from her rheumatoid arthritis, in addition to back pain, was so awful that it didn’t help.
My dad was also there all day, but then my brother would say, “You need to go home and rest.” Thank God my oldest daughter, Gia, was around to help with my three younger daughters, especially because the rehab facility was thirty minutes away from my house. Gia was truly amazing through everything. She’s the best older sister ever.
Another thing with my mom was that some of the medications they gave her had side effects. She would say crazy things, like, “I see cockroaches. Kill the cockroaches!” or, “I want to go sit right there.” I’d say, “Mom, what are you talking about? You can’t sit on the floor.” I prayed all the time. I would tell everybody to pray for us, even though I really didn’t want to talk to a lot of people. Friends wanted to come and see my mom, but she didn’t want to see anybody. She was in so much agony that it wasn’t like she could just sit there and have a conversation. She would get tired because she was up all night, so often she would sleep during the day. My dad would get frustrated by that, and so would I, because we wanted her to be doing rehab during the day to get her muscles working properly again.
Once they finally took out the trach, we were so happy. Then they started doing a lot more rehab with her, getting her out of bed and encouraging her to walk, but it was hard. She couldn’t do it. They would have to hold her up and perform exercises with her. During this time, they moved her to another floor. We took that as a sign of progress. I couldn’t wait for her to walk again. I was thinking, She has to walk again, because if we take her home, she has to be able to at least go to the bathroom by herself. My father couldn’t help her with that and it wasn’t realistic for me or my brother to be there at all times. At the rehab facility, they had all the medication and machinery she needed, which made me feel more secure. Everything was right there. If she needed oxygen or sodium or more potassium, right away, they would give it to her. If her blood pressure dropped too low, they would give her blood pressure medicine, because that’s what kept happening. They would check her sugar constantly, which was so sad, because some days it was so high because of all the medication that they were pumping into her.
Still, it never crossed our minds that she wouldn’t survive. My mom is such a strong woman. I kept saying to her, “I am strong because of you. Look what you’ve been through.” It was a lot. Though, in my heart, I felt she was going to get better. Never in a million years did I think anything else. I told myself, She is going to walk again. She is going to go home. Positive thinking. Her doctor was hopeful, too. He was so upbeat, which was amazing. He said, “It’s probably going to take a long time, since she’s older, but she is going to get there.” She was only sixty-six, which didn’t seem that old to me, but I was just happy he thought she was going to get better, whenever that happened. So, we waited and kept doing what we were doing every day—being there to support her with whatever she needed.
But, again, there was always something that would set her back. My mom never took care of herself. All her life, she never went to the doctor. She’d only recently started in the past few years because of her rheumatoid arthritis. She always worried about everybody else, and hardly thought about herself. That was just her way, but I tried to stay on top of her. I would even force her to go to the gynecologist. I remember the first time I took her, she said she hadn’t gone since Joey was born! She’d insist, “I feel good. Why do I have to go?”
Unfortunately, as it became clear that my mom wasn’t going anywhere and things were not improving but actually getting worse, I still had work on the horizon. It was around this time that the casting rumors for the new season of Real Housewives began to surface.
I couldn’t believe we were starting our eighth season.
For my part, I had no idea who was or wasn’t doing the show. Quite honestly, I didn’t even care. My focus was on my mom, not on Real Housewives.
As it turned out, the producers did reach out to my new yoga buddy Danielle Staub.
Last October, when I was on Watch What Happens Live—before they were casting season eight—Andy asked me about it and I told him the truth, which is that Danielle and I were able to pick up right where we’d left off before the table flipping and before I pushed Andy at the reunion! Sorry, honey!
Danielle and I are friends now. We have a lot more in common than I thought. That’s what I’m saying about how things evolve. You never know who will come in and out of your life at different stages or for different reasons. I forgave her, she forgave me—just like with me and Melissa. All is good with Danielle and me, which is how it should be. I’m truly thrilled she’s on the show.
Another awesome thing that happened in January 2017 was Gia’s sweet sixteen. It was a week or so after a very uneventful New Year’s Eve—another holiday I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate because it just reminded me that Joe had already been in prison for more than nine months—and I was ready to set my sights on something happy and exciting. I could not believe that my baby girl was so grown up. It felt like just yesterday that I’d held her in my arms in the hospital and now she was a woman! Of course I had to throw her a huge bash! I would have anyway, but especially after all the responsibility she’d shouldered while I was away and was still taking on with Joe gone, I wanted to do something for her that she’d never forget. Something that would show her how much I love and appreciate her.
We decided to have it at the Dream Hotel in New York City. I got a party bus to take Gia and about forty of her friends to this insane suite I’d gotten for the night—it had a Jacuzzi in it! They were all dressed up. Gia wore an amazing short grayish-silver dress with cutouts on the sides, and I wore a black dress with a lace-up front. Everyone had an unbelievable time. They played music and I had the hotel cater tons of food and send it to the roo
m, which I’d hired someone to decorate with enormous purple balloons that spelled her name and the number sixteen. There was also an insane, multilayered, bedazzled purple cake with tall candles and cupcakes, too! I bought her the sterling silver Tiffany “T” ring as her gift to match the “T” bracelet I’d gotten her for Christmas. She said it was the best day ever and the best party ever, which gave me endless joy. She deserved every bit of what came to her. She’s shouldered a lot of burden these past few years.
I did take a chance and let all the kids—boys and girls—sleep in the suite alone, while Milania, Gabriella, Audriana, and I were in a room next door. You know what, I’m sure people will criticize me for that—what else is new! But my kid is fantastic, and I know in the bottom of my heart that she’s responsible and trustworthy. And, of course, I wanted to make her happy. My parents were so strict with me when I was growing up, so I don’t want to be that strict with my own girls. There was a time when I did, but I feel differently now. I guess because of what my daughters have been through, I’m a little more lenient than I once was.
Joey and Melissa are much stricter with their kids. When Melissa was a child, her mother wasn’t that way, so they’re trying to do the opposite, which I respect. Sometimes they condemn my more indulgent attitude, but you know what I say to that: “Don’t tell me how to parent, and I won’t tell you how to parent. Capiche?”
I’m doing the best I can.
And, as I said, we only get one chance at life.
10
* * *
HOW MUCH CAN ONE HOUSEWIFE TAKE?
A month later, I was excited to start working again, because, listen, I’ve got to make a living for my kids, especially now, as a single mom. Even though my mom was still very sick, I was okay with it. Of course I would have preferred it if she was home, so I could move forward with a clear head and not take any time away from attending to her, but I had no choice. And, in a sense, it felt nice to have that distraction.
I did feel badly that I couldn’t be at the hospital with her all day, every day, but fortunately, we didn’t film that much in February and I was able to do what I had to do and then return to my mom immediately. Even my dad said to me, “You have to do it. You have to work for your family.” I was also focusing on my yoga. I felt pursuing yoga could lead to more business opportunities. That’s the way I’m always thinking. What can I do to support my family, now that I’m the only one standing?
At this point, Danielle was back on the show, which was great, and there was also Margaret Josephs, who was completely new.
Siggy apparently knew her from before we started filming this season. They live in the same town.
For my part, I thought Margaret was a breath of fresh air with her big smile and blond pigtails. She’s the founder and designer of a global lifestyle brand, which she launched in 1999, called the Macbeth Collection. They sell clothing, bags, accessories, beauty, home, and tech, all in various colors, prints, and patterns. Right up my alley! She’s very talented. She told me that she was sued by Vineyard Vines for a lot of money because they thought she’d tried to copy their logo. Madonna mia!
I like Margaret a lot. She’s so quick on her feet. She’s super sharp and she has good comebacks! What she’s accomplished is pretty amazing. I feel like she totally gets me. Like the other day, we were together, just talking, and all of a sudden she looked at me and I felt like she really saw who I was in that moment. I was telling her about my mom and I believe she empathized with everything I’ve been through. She’s also confided in me about the fact that she cheated on her husband with her contractor, whom she’s now married to! She was unhappy in her first marriage and she needed to move on. She got that. I used to always say, you can’t cheat or you’re disgusting. You have to stay with your husband no matter what. I had a singular, uncompromising worldview.
And while I still don’t believe that cheating is okay for me or my husband, I now believe that everyone has his or her own set of circumstances. You only get one life, and you have to be happy. You have to be the one who finds that happiness for yourself. Especially after losing my mom, I’ve come to the conclusion that life is too short to stay miserable. Look, in Margaret’s case, she met her new husband in her house. It wasn’t like she went looking for him. They ended up falling in love in her own home. It was meant to be. You see what I mean? I feel like everything happens for a reason.
Everybody has this impression of me that I think you have to stay with your man no matter what. Maybe I felt that way at one time, but I don’t anymore. You stay with your man only if you’re happy. People think that I’d never leave Joe. But that’s not the case. If Joe frickin’ cheats on me or mistreats me, I’m fucking leaving him. I’m not going to stay with him because I’m Italian or because I’m old-school. That’s not the way it goes anymore. If things with Joe aren’t good or the same between us when he gets home, I’d absolutely end our relationship.
Unexpected things happen in life, I know that now. Look what happened to me. I want to teach people that, never in a million years, did I expect to be in the situation I’m in today. But I know who I am. I know I’m a good person. I still haven’t figured out the reason why all these horrible things had to transpire. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get my answers when Joe comes home. Maybe I’ll see how he is, whether he’s changed for the better, and I’ll see how our life is together years from now, and then I’ll have some comprehension as to why we had to go away. But for now, I don’t have any answers yet.
Sure, being in prison altered some of my views of the world. Sure, I’m more forgiving of certain people and extra grateful for certain things. And, yes, I took up yoga, which has helped center me. But, come on, did I really have to be away from my children for eleven and a half whole months to get to this point? I’m sure I could have and would have figured out most of that on my own. Some of these things come naturally with time and age and the new people you encounter who broaden your horizons.
I know I didn’t have to go to prison for that long to make all that shit happen. But I did and I took it, because I’m an adult. I can take anything that’s thrown at me. I just feel badly for my kids. They were the ones who were punished the most.
That’s the part where I say, “Really, God? Explain this to me. I’m all ears.”
I just want to find my own happiness, which is why I’ve learned to be grateful every day for the positive things in my life, like my sweet girls, my family, and the friends who support me.
I have to say, I was impressed by how all the ladies were there for me once we started filming. They knew how difficult it was for me to focus on the show while my mom was in the hospital. Danielle texted me almost every single day. She didn’t have to do that. People are busy with their own lives. I get that. Siggy and Dolores were asking for updates on my mother’s condition from my lawyer, Jim, with whom they were both speaking. Not only did they care so much, which made me feel really good, but they also understood that it was a time of high stress and that maybe I wouldn’t want to be overwhelmed with texts and calls.
But enough about that . . .
February also brought with it Milania’s eleventh birthday. When you have a big family, there are a lot of celebrations! We did it at this place called iFLY, which is a facility for controlled, simulated indoor skydiving. It’s so cool! You feel like you have wings. We’d been there the previous year—just me, Joe, and the girls. I was terrified the first time because all this air blows up your nose. But we ended up loving it, so Milania wanted to go back for her party. She invited about fifteen of her girlfriends, and I rented them a pink Hummer limousine, which they rode in together, while Gia, Audriana, Gabriella, Gabriella’s friend, and I drove separately.
If you haven’t been to iFLY, you should totally go. It’s an amazing experience! I didn’t do it at the party because I was on picture- and video-taking duty, but everyone had a blast. I also bought her a new cell phone as her gift. She said that was what she wanted. All in all, it was
a really happy day in the midst of everything going on with my mom.
Just as I was beginning to think things couldn’t get any worse on that front, they did. As I was on my way to go see Joe in prison—I felt badly because I hadn’t visited him a lot when my mom was first in the hospital—I got a call from one of the nurses at the rehab facility. I assumed it would be something having to do with my mother, but instead she said, “Your father is having trouble breathing. We have to call an ambulance.” I said, “What did you say? My father?” I couldn’t believe my own ears.
I turned around immediately and drove to the hospital, where they told me that he had pneumonia. What the hell? My brother came to stay with my dad, so I could go back to rehab to be with my mom. After that, Joey and I were never in one place at the same time. It was man-on-man. The only thing I was thankful for was that my mom didn’t know my father was sick. And that she seemed fine that day and night. Unfortunately, the next day, her blood pressure dropped and the doctor said, “Something is wrong. She has to go back to the hospital.” I couldn’t believe it. How much can one family take? Then they checked her lungs and took an X-ray before telling us, “It doesn’t look like pneumonia,” only for us to find out that it actually was pneumonia once we got to the hospital. Apparently, she got pneumonia the second time from my dad, which we did not tell him. We kept everything very quiet, even that my mom had gone back to the hospital. We decided to let him think she was still in rehab, so that his condition wouldn’t get any worse. If he’d known what was happening, who knows if he’d have survived it.
So here I am. I spent almost a year in prison. My husband is now there for three years. And both my parents are in separate hospitals. My father is at St. Joseph’s in Wayne, and my mother is in St. Joseph’s in Patterson, which are about five miles away from each other. My mother said she wanted to go to Patterson because it’s a trauma center, so they have better machinery. That was her. And she was right: her first day there was better. She was breathing fine. Then, all of a sudden, her breathing became irregular again, and they had to put the breathing tube back in. That’s when they put a smaller tube in her mouth, and I said, “Wow, this doesn’t look that bad, compared to the first time.” On some level, I guess I was getting used to it.
Standing Strong Page 8