Reality Sucks
(I wrote most of this a couple of days ago in my journal)
There's something very unsettling about this morning's phone call with Dad. The one where he moved up our appointment at the bank from next Thursday to this Saturday.
I'm a realist and know full well of the risks involved with Dad right now...he's a ticking time bomb with the aneurysm bulging and his blood pressure rising every time he has to pick Mom up off the floor. I know all about aneurysms all right.
Mom's paralysis twenty (oh my God, it is) years ago was the result of surgery for an aneurysm. She was 50 - geez that's almost my age. I recall it like it was yesterday. The time spent in the waiting room was tense...I think I was there for days. She collapsed at work on a Friday that was the last day of my two week holiday from work. My boss was a complete dick..."well you've just HAD your holidays. What are WE supposed to do to cover for the extra time?". I quit shortly thereafter. I'd been there nearly ten years. Dad was away fishing when Mom went to emerg and he flew in immediately, to join me there in "limbo land". I bounced back and forth between sheer terror, worry and guilt - I'd hung up on Mom right before she collapsed. She'd called me from work, worried about my younger brother who hadn't come home all night the previous night. I was flustered with her, as she wanted me to try and "track him down"...I knew he was alright and just being a jerk by staying out all night with friends without calling her. I was right. When I called her office to apologize for snapping at her and hanging up, her co worker reported that she'd been rushed by ambulance to hospital. I don't remember the drive there. I do remember ripping the nurse's heads off because they were completely ignoring her as she pleaded for ice or a cool compress for her head. Although they told me to leave, I refused and stayed by her side...no one else was there and I wasn't leaving her alone. After a long time in emergency with no one doing anything, nurses informed me that she was being transferred downtown. I asked if I could ride in the ambulance with her - they said no. I left for St. Paul's hospital and, upon my arrival, waited 3 hours for mom's ambulance to pull in. Many calls were placed on the payphone to RGH, asking what the delay was. I was frantic...had something happened? Finally she arrived - by this time my Grandma and Aunt had joined me. That day rolled into the next...I don't quite know how or when, but it did.
At some point my Dad arrived. I bawled like a baby in his arms and, as he does, he assured me it would be alright. His voice told a different story this time though. We sat, not knowing what the deal was. Then the doctor came out and sat down on the little table beside us and leaned over, his arms resting on his thighs. Right then and there I knew it was serious...before he'd even uttered a single word. Then a lot of talk of 50/50 and "risks" confirmed it for me. "Just save her". That's all I could say.
The good news was that Mom was one of the lucky ones, unlike my father-in-law. But, although she survived, it wasn't without a huge price. Her independence. No longer could she bomb in the car down to Blaine to play poker with her friends. No more 16 hour shifts for 9 days in a row. No more.
So, here we are again. And Dad's 20 years older than Mom was when she had her aneurysm. Mind you, hers "burst" - at least we're lucky enough to know about Dad's before any serious trouble (knock on wood). But his cancer surgery was massive and he barely made it...he took a long time to recover. The superbug he contracted while in hospital didn't help. Neither did the hernia afterward. It's been a shitstorm alright.
Mom got a call from the hospital this week - things keep changing, day to day. Honestly, I don't think they know what the fuck to do for her. First it was the oncologist. Then a surgeon. Then the cancer clinic. Plan D is now blood work done at hospital (earlier today) and a transfusion on Friday.
That bank appointment's come and gone. And, as we talked of transfers, signing authority and beneficiaries, money was the only thing not on my mind.
Life's a bitch.
Don't worry, this is just a "blip" here, tomorrow the sun will come up and I'll plug along. So will Mom and Dad. I just needed to release and felt my friends deserved to know the status of things. 'Cause, sure as shit, you're helping me to get through it all. Again, thanks.
Deb
There's something very unsettling about this morning's phone call with Dad. The one where he moved up our appointment at the bank from next Thursday to this Saturday.
I'm a realist and know full well of the risks involved with Dad right now...he's a ticking time bomb with the aneurysm bulging and his blood pressure rising every time he has to pick Mom up off the floor. I know all about aneurysms all right.
Mom's paralysis twenty (oh my God, it is) years ago was the result of surgery for an aneurysm. She was 50 - geez that's almost my age. I recall it like it was yesterday. The time spent in the waiting room was tense...I think I was there for days. She collapsed at work on a Friday that was the last day of my two week holiday from work. My boss was a complete dick..."well you've just HAD your holidays. What are WE supposed to do to cover for the extra time?". I quit shortly thereafter. I'd been there nearly ten years. Dad was away fishing when Mom went to emerg and he flew in immediately, to join me there in "limbo land". I bounced back and forth between sheer terror, worry and guilt - I'd hung up on Mom right before she collapsed. She'd called me from work, worried about my younger brother who hadn't come home all night the previous night. I was flustered with her, as she wanted me to try and "track him down"...I knew he was alright and just being a jerk by staying out all night with friends without calling her. I was right. When I called her office to apologize for snapping at her and hanging up, her co worker reported that she'd been rushed by ambulance to hospital. I don't remember the drive there. I do remember ripping the nurse's heads off because they were completely ignoring her as she pleaded for ice or a cool compress for her head. Although they told me to leave, I refused and stayed by her side...no one else was there and I wasn't leaving her alone. After a long time in emergency with no one doing anything, nurses informed me that she was being transferred downtown. I asked if I could ride in the ambulance with her - they said no. I left for St. Paul's hospital and, upon my arrival, waited 3 hours for mom's ambulance to pull in. Many calls were placed on the payphone to RGH, asking what the delay was. I was frantic...had something happened? Finally she arrived - by this time my Grandma and Aunt had joined me. That day rolled into the next...I don't quite know how or when, but it did.
At some point my Dad arrived. I bawled like a baby in his arms and, as he does, he assured me it would be alright. His voice told a different story this time though. We sat, not knowing what the deal was. Then the doctor came out and sat down on the little table beside us and leaned over, his arms resting on his thighs. Right then and there I knew it was serious...before he'd even uttered a single word. Then a lot of talk of 50/50 and "risks" confirmed it for me. "Just save her". That's all I could say.
The good news was that Mom was one of the lucky ones, unlike my father-in-law. But, although she survived, it wasn't without a huge price. Her independence. No longer could she bomb in the car down to Blaine to play poker with her friends. No more 16 hour shifts for 9 days in a row. No more.
So, here we are again. And Dad's 20 years older than Mom was when she had her aneurysm. Mind you, hers "burst" - at least we're lucky enough to know about Dad's before any serious trouble (knock on wood). But his cancer surgery was massive and he barely made it...he took a long time to recover. The superbug he contracted while in hospital didn't help. Neither did the hernia afterward. It's been a shitstorm alright.
Mom got a call from the hospital this week - things keep changing, day to day. Honestly, I don't think they know what the fuck to do for her. First it was the oncologist. Then a surgeon. Then the cancer clinic. Plan D is now blood work done at hospital (earlier today) and a transfusion on Friday.
That bank appointment's come and gone. And, as we talked of transfers, signing authority and beneficiaries, money was the only thing not on my mind.
Life's a bitch.
Don't worry, this is just a "blip" here, tomorrow the sun will come up and I'll plug along. So will Mom and Dad. I just needed to release and felt my friends deserved to know the status of things. 'Cause, sure as shit, you're helping me to get through it all. Again, thanks.
Deb
posted by Deb at 1:52 AM
5 Comments:
Wow Deb that's a lot to worry about/deal with. *BIG HUUUUUGS*
Thanks sweetie...I so much appreciate the kindness. Sometimes I feel like such a downer here...I try not to be but the honesty in me just spills my guts sometimes. And I must confess, it feels damned good too!
Deb that was a really great piece of writing. I felt like I was traveling with you.
I'm sorry to hear about all the family health problems. I've dealth with my fair share of family illness, but nothing within my immediate family. I can only imagine how hard it is to deal with all the emotions, and still being strong and positive.
Sending a hug your way.
Oh sweetie, you have so much on your shoulders. I am in awe of how you are handling all that you are faced with. You are a pretty amazing woman, do you know that?
All best to your mom and dad - I think I know where you got your spirit from now.
Hey Debz, sorry to have been gone for so long. I'll be around more frequently during this weekend, I promise.
I know things have been so rough for you and your family, I have no idea how hard it must be to deal with the situation you're in, but you're doing an astonishing job, and you're a wonderfully caring, sensitive and strong woman, dealing with this all so well.
Don't forget that having a little break down now and then is GOOD, don't ever feel bad for letting things out and just flat out spazzing, whether that's emotionally or just virtually freaking out on the keyboard. You just do whatever you need to do to continue on with your amazing strength, and we'll be here for you every step of the way.
Luv you lots, Debz. I'll be thinking of you.
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