I can't even believe that my last post was 9/11/12. That seems like forever ago...so much has happened since then...and yet things are still the same. While I decided to blog about my health, I'll do a quick update:
* My step-dad is doing well. The liver transplant was a success although he suffered complications that have impacted his vision and memory. The change has been a major adjustment to his and my mother's way of life; but, they are adjusting. He is alive and we are all blessed for the small miracles.
* We spent Thanksgiving with my brother's wife's family. It was great to see my brother and his family. This was the first real outing since my step-dad's surgery and both he and my mom looked well. Despite our short visit with family, I was so blessed to be with family on the holiday.
* After Christmas T and I drove a second vehicle down to Florida with mom and step-dad. The drive down was long and challenging and included a run-away u-haul trailer that crossed the median a car in front of us on I75! I was just glad that T didn't want to log anymore permit practice hours.
* T and I spent a week with my parents in Florida lounging around and being blessed to have family and our youth ;) I read four books during the week! T and I went to Epcot where I became the worst mom ever - navigating crowds and leaving him behind!
* Many changes at work which have lead to significant transition. I even applied for a supervisor position that I still believe I maintain I don't ever want. But it is the year of 13 and maybe a year of change. So who knows.
* As a parent I am struggling with T turning 16 in a few months and whether or not he should get his license. The thought of purchasing a new car for myself with a car payment and insurance for him makes me want to hurl. Since he is only a sophomore and unemployed, I am leaning toward keeping him permitted to avoid having to pay for insurance for the time being.
* MS and I are still dating. As I was in Florida for the New Year, I hoped it would be better to start the year off apart and not repeat our previous New Year. Unfortunately, this year I had some serious deep thoughts and it didn't lead to good times on the relationship front. Whether it was commitment related, reality related or just stagnation; nevertheless, all is continuing, status quo.
* I went and saw Flashdance on Broadway! AG gave me two free tickets! I was super excited to be back in the theater and loved every minute of the show!
* It has been two years since MS and I planned a Spring Break together. We didn't end up going last time. I wonder if this time will have better results. I can guarantee they will be different. We shall see. Again planning on a last minute vacation opportunity with MS and I and two 16 year old boys on a road trip across America. What fun, right? Ummm....I'll get back to you on that one.
So I think that basically sums up the past few months. I can't believe it is officially February 1, 2013. How time seems to fly.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Friday, February 1, 2013
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Post Transplant
A few weeks ago my step-dad had a liver transplant. I wasn't there for the surgery. I wasn't even there for almost a week after the surgery. I was there in mind and spirit, but I wasn't there. It bothered me that I wasn't there, but I knew there wasn't anything that I could do and with school starting for T and work, I really couldn't manage going over sooner, although my mom said she didn't want or need me there.
Things seemed to be progressing well, from afar. Reports from my mom were positive and later I learned, vague. I had planned to spend a couple of days at the hospital with my step-dad and mom and to relieve my mom in anyway possible, especially since she had been practically living at the hospital. Two days before I went, my mom called to let me know how he was doing. She gave the positives and then she said..."he is blind". She told me not to cry and that it would be OK and she hung up to avoid the fact that we were both sobbing uncontrollably.
I still tear up recalling that phone call. Of the sobs that coursed through my body immediately after I hung up. The whys. The hows. And after about ten minutes of crying, I stopped. I couldn't feel sorry for him, for me, for my mom. While we weren't prepared that he may be blind, he was alive. He received a "beautiful liver" that would give him a new lease on life. Different. New. About an hour later, my mom called back and we were both collected and she said someone wanted to say HI. I was able to talk to my step dad. I was able to hear him. To laugh and recognize that he was still the same, despite things that would be different. Everything can't remain the same. With change, we shall grow and live and embrace. I have to accept that we will never be given more than we can handle and we are so very blessed that he has been given the opportunity for a transplant and a long life.
I spent over two days in the hospital. I never left. I have to admit I was rather disappointed that I didn't lose any weight during my hospital stay, but I suppose I have to be the patient for that to happen! My step dad looked good. He made significant progress while I was there. His blood pressure was stabilizing with medication. He was beginning to see objects and movement. He was thankful for the new liver. He wasn't always sure where he was, but he was appreciative of my mom, myself, family and friends. I helped him with eating and he was able to stand and walk to the bathroom. The catheter was removed. His spirits were high and his attitude was pleasant. Then, it was time for me to come home.
I am not sure exactly what has happened since I left. I feel like for my sake, my mom wants to guard and protect me from the reality of what is happening or maybe if she doesn't verbalize it, it isn't real. They believe that he suffered a massive air embolism during the transplant which is causing the blindness. They also believe he may have suffered one or several mini strokes which has resulted in his reduced strength on one side. He may have also had a lack of blood flow and elevated blood pressure during surgery that caused additional issues. Actually, no one is exactly sure what happened or why. What I do know is that the longer he stayed in the hospital ICU the more irritated, agitated and frustrated he became. Doctors reported that he may have a full recovery. My mom reported that he doesn't understand why he is there, why he has to take medication and why he needs physical therapy. The plan was to discharge him to rehabilitation; however, a bed was not available where he was. My mom was told to check out nursing homes. Fortunately the hospital located a rehabilitation hospital and he was transferred.
Within days of being transferred to the acute rehabilitation center, he returned back to the hospital where the transplant occurred. The liver is reportedly doing well; it is the anxiety and pain that is not. He is being elevated to a higher level of care than when he was initially discharged. I just received a text from my mom that he will move to that floor after an operation and I have absolutely no idea what the operation is for. His white blood cells are elevated and his pain medication has been greatly increased. It is so difficult to be away from the situation waiting on information and updates. I wish that I could do more. All I can do is pray and be thankful for my step dad's transplant. Baby steps. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.
Things seemed to be progressing well, from afar. Reports from my mom were positive and later I learned, vague. I had planned to spend a couple of days at the hospital with my step-dad and mom and to relieve my mom in anyway possible, especially since she had been practically living at the hospital. Two days before I went, my mom called to let me know how he was doing. She gave the positives and then she said..."he is blind". She told me not to cry and that it would be OK and she hung up to avoid the fact that we were both sobbing uncontrollably.
I still tear up recalling that phone call. Of the sobs that coursed through my body immediately after I hung up. The whys. The hows. And after about ten minutes of crying, I stopped. I couldn't feel sorry for him, for me, for my mom. While we weren't prepared that he may be blind, he was alive. He received a "beautiful liver" that would give him a new lease on life. Different. New. About an hour later, my mom called back and we were both collected and she said someone wanted to say HI. I was able to talk to my step dad. I was able to hear him. To laugh and recognize that he was still the same, despite things that would be different. Everything can't remain the same. With change, we shall grow and live and embrace. I have to accept that we will never be given more than we can handle and we are so very blessed that he has been given the opportunity for a transplant and a long life.
I spent over two days in the hospital. I never left. I have to admit I was rather disappointed that I didn't lose any weight during my hospital stay, but I suppose I have to be the patient for that to happen! My step dad looked good. He made significant progress while I was there. His blood pressure was stabilizing with medication. He was beginning to see objects and movement. He was thankful for the new liver. He wasn't always sure where he was, but he was appreciative of my mom, myself, family and friends. I helped him with eating and he was able to stand and walk to the bathroom. The catheter was removed. His spirits were high and his attitude was pleasant. Then, it was time for me to come home.
I am not sure exactly what has happened since I left. I feel like for my sake, my mom wants to guard and protect me from the reality of what is happening or maybe if she doesn't verbalize it, it isn't real. They believe that he suffered a massive air embolism during the transplant which is causing the blindness. They also believe he may have suffered one or several mini strokes which has resulted in his reduced strength on one side. He may have also had a lack of blood flow and elevated blood pressure during surgery that caused additional issues. Actually, no one is exactly sure what happened or why. What I do know is that the longer he stayed in the hospital ICU the more irritated, agitated and frustrated he became. Doctors reported that he may have a full recovery. My mom reported that he doesn't understand why he is there, why he has to take medication and why he needs physical therapy. The plan was to discharge him to rehabilitation; however, a bed was not available where he was. My mom was told to check out nursing homes. Fortunately the hospital located a rehabilitation hospital and he was transferred.
Within days of being transferred to the acute rehabilitation center, he returned back to the hospital where the transplant occurred. The liver is reportedly doing well; it is the anxiety and pain that is not. He is being elevated to a higher level of care than when he was initially discharged. I just received a text from my mom that he will move to that floor after an operation and I have absolutely no idea what the operation is for. His white blood cells are elevated and his pain medication has been greatly increased. It is so difficult to be away from the situation waiting on information and updates. I wish that I could do more. All I can do is pray and be thankful for my step dad's transplant. Baby steps. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
The Call
Tonight as I sit here typing blog after blog, I do so out of avoidance. Avoidance of the attempt to fall asleep. I even have the television off, so I can avoid the background noise. I would love to be able to sleep. I really would. I just don't think, regardless of how tired I am, that sleep will come easily.
My step dad, who has been a great father and dad to me for over fifteen years, is ill. A year ago, my dad and his wife were attempting to get my dad on the heart transplant list. They were not successful. My dad passed a year ago this month. There are times when I think of him and reminisce. I even ask my brother about my dad's wife, almost half caring (honestly, I do care, as much as I would like to say I don't!). Fast forward to a year later. My step dad is ill.
He was recently diagnosed with liver cancer. He had the surgery to "zap" the cancer. My mother and step dad are the exact opposite of my father and his wife. While they faced emotional challenges with the medical process, my step dad was approved for a liver transplant. He was "fifth" on the "list". They were told to never be more than an hour away from the hospital, which meant my mom couldn't go to South Dakota with us.
Tonight, weeks after he was accepted to the list, my mom received the call. I am not sure how one emotionally, physically or mentally prepares for a transplant. While you go through the training and preparations, like most things in life, you are never fully prepared for being in the moment. They were told to arrive at the hospital a few hours later. Testing is being done on the donor liver to see if the transplant will be possible. The results should have been in a few hours ago. Due to this late hour, my mom would never call or text me; however, she should know that I would be up. Waiting. Worrying. Wondering. My step dad is prepped. They are at the hospital Waiting. Worrying. Wondering. I am sure they are experiencing many more emotions, thoughts, fears and concerns than I can ever imagine. I want to be there to support them, but mom said it isn't necessary. The surgery may happen early in the morning. I have a work event to attend in the early morning, which I would bail in a heartbeat! But for now, I wait until I am wanted or needed. I would rather be there. I feel so helpless.
This is out of my hands. It is in HIS hands...
My step dad, who has been a great father and dad to me for over fifteen years, is ill. A year ago, my dad and his wife were attempting to get my dad on the heart transplant list. They were not successful. My dad passed a year ago this month. There are times when I think of him and reminisce. I even ask my brother about my dad's wife, almost half caring (honestly, I do care, as much as I would like to say I don't!). Fast forward to a year later. My step dad is ill.
He was recently diagnosed with liver cancer. He had the surgery to "zap" the cancer. My mother and step dad are the exact opposite of my father and his wife. While they faced emotional challenges with the medical process, my step dad was approved for a liver transplant. He was "fifth" on the "list". They were told to never be more than an hour away from the hospital, which meant my mom couldn't go to South Dakota with us.
Tonight, weeks after he was accepted to the list, my mom received the call. I am not sure how one emotionally, physically or mentally prepares for a transplant. While you go through the training and preparations, like most things in life, you are never fully prepared for being in the moment. They were told to arrive at the hospital a few hours later. Testing is being done on the donor liver to see if the transplant will be possible. The results should have been in a few hours ago. Due to this late hour, my mom would never call or text me; however, she should know that I would be up. Waiting. Worrying. Wondering. My step dad is prepped. They are at the hospital Waiting. Worrying. Wondering. I am sure they are experiencing many more emotions, thoughts, fears and concerns than I can ever imagine. I want to be there to support them, but mom said it isn't necessary. The surgery may happen early in the morning. I have a work event to attend in the early morning, which I would bail in a heartbeat! But for now, I wait until I am wanted or needed. I would rather be there. I feel so helpless.
This is out of my hands. It is in HIS hands...
Family Vacation - South Dakota
I am not sure how I forgot how my life was so impacted by K for those three months. My life revolved around K and his needs and appointments while in the midst of baseball season for T. Balancing was becoming a juggling act and I know that T and my needs were smoldering from the heat of the back burner.
So I was looking forward to the time when K was going to move to his new family. June. Summer would then be filled with going back to our routine lifestyle of baseball, baseball and more baseball. T needed to get in driver's training and then of course planning some much needed vacations!
With T with his dad for two weeks, that allowed me to go to Aruba with MS. It also allowed for me to plan a cross country vacation with T to South Dakota to visit my brother and family. Initially the trip was my mom's idea; however, due to her husband's ailing health and acceptance to the list for a liver transplant, she needed to be home with my step dad. Always wanting to see Mount Rushmore, I still planned the trip with just T.
T finished up driver's training just before his time with his dad and then our vacation. He would be able to log in some serious driving hours from Michigan to South Dakota. We took our time driving out to South Dakota, staying in Minnesota the first evening. We arrived at my brother's house mid-day on a Tuesday. I was excited to spend time with my brother and his family. We see each other for holidays or during the summer, but have never spent significant amounts of time together. I was eager to spend time with my two nephews (8 and 6) and my niece (almost 2).
On Thursday, we drove across South Dakota en route to Mount Rushmore. T and I drove separately as we didn't have a vehicle large enough for seven of us, which allowed us some much needed quiet time! We stopped at Corn Palace, Wall Drug and the Badlands. We visited Mount Rushmore and Sylvan Lake. We were able to spend a day hiking the '76 trail and several trails nearby. We also spent a day at a water park, went to a cowboy show, saw my oldest nephew's first football game and bonded with the kids!
T and I had a great time. There were many stories that could be told which I will keep them off the blog. We loved Sylvan Lake and the picturesque views. T loved that he could swim and climb rock formations. Mount Rushmore was a bucket list success! The entire trip was a success of bucket list adventures! T and I shared many laughs which turned into tears strolling down my face! So many wonderful memories to cherish! By the drive home, T and I were both overly exhausted from driving. He chose not to drive when given the option. In less than a month, T has completed more than the required 30 hours of driving! And fortunately, we didn't have any car issues!
So I was looking forward to the time when K was going to move to his new family. June. Summer would then be filled with going back to our routine lifestyle of baseball, baseball and more baseball. T needed to get in driver's training and then of course planning some much needed vacations!
With T with his dad for two weeks, that allowed me to go to Aruba with MS. It also allowed for me to plan a cross country vacation with T to South Dakota to visit my brother and family. Initially the trip was my mom's idea; however, due to her husband's ailing health and acceptance to the list for a liver transplant, she needed to be home with my step dad. Always wanting to see Mount Rushmore, I still planned the trip with just T.
T finished up driver's training just before his time with his dad and then our vacation. He would be able to log in some serious driving hours from Michigan to South Dakota. We took our time driving out to South Dakota, staying in Minnesota the first evening. We arrived at my brother's house mid-day on a Tuesday. I was excited to spend time with my brother and his family. We see each other for holidays or during the summer, but have never spent significant amounts of time together. I was eager to spend time with my two nephews (8 and 6) and my niece (almost 2).
On Thursday, we drove across South Dakota en route to Mount Rushmore. T and I drove separately as we didn't have a vehicle large enough for seven of us, which allowed us some much needed quiet time! We stopped at Corn Palace, Wall Drug and the Badlands. We visited Mount Rushmore and Sylvan Lake. We were able to spend a day hiking the '76 trail and several trails nearby. We also spent a day at a water park, went to a cowboy show, saw my oldest nephew's first football game and bonded with the kids!
T and I had a great time. There were many stories that could be told which I will keep them off the blog. We loved Sylvan Lake and the picturesque views. T loved that he could swim and climb rock formations. Mount Rushmore was a bucket list success! The entire trip was a success of bucket list adventures! T and I shared many laughs which turned into tears strolling down my face! So many wonderful memories to cherish! By the drive home, T and I were both overly exhausted from driving. He chose not to drive when given the option. In less than a month, T has completed more than the required 30 hours of driving! And fortunately, we didn't have any car issues!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Popped Circuits
Popped Circuits or blown fuses...I can only imagine what is next on the horizon, and dare I say it? But bring it on. If this is my challenge, I can get through it!
I can't believe how long it has been since my last post, although a little more recent than any consistent exercise! Things have been busy, but nothing too terribly crazy.
Little League World Series was a great time. T and I survived our last jaunt before school starting. Even "Tropical Storm Irene" didn't interfere too much: one consolation game cancellation and a rain delay. Two of my tires were low at one truck stop and fortunately I noticed and T used his tire knowledge to get us back on the road without issue.
School is in full swing. I have to say that I am glad T is out of the house and back into a routine. I think we function best with structure, even though I would love it if I didn't have to go into work five days a week and still received a pay check! His classes are uber difficult but he is managing, so far. Not so sure that Advanced Placement was the best option, but I am glad he is being challenged.
On the home front, my washing machine crashed last week. I am sure it was just a belt, but after 14 years it seemed due time to upgrade to a new set. I haven't managed to read the manuals yet - but the thought of a washer washing FOURTEEN pairs of jeans at a time? OMG I tore out the rest of the back fence and had a couple awesome bonfires at MS'. I managed to brand my toe with the poker and learned that fire tending in sandals isn't the smartest idea. I priced out new fencing and decided, maybe I don't need a fence right now. I purchased a few privacy trees to plant instead. After coming home on Monday, my dehumidifier was no longer working. I realized while the washer and dryer were being installed that a circuit had popped.
As the basement is pretty damp, I figured I was due for a new dehumidifier too. I purchased a new one on Monday night and am amazed at the power! I moved the dehumidifier into the den area last night and this morning I was astonished that the bucket was almost half full! I emptied it out in the wash basin and noticed the water wasn't draining well. Then I noticed that the floor drain wasn't working and all of the water went right to the floor and the carpet. Sigh...I checked the circuits and a different circuit was popped. So I turned it back on and the sump worked. Cleaned up the free standing water and now have a fan and the dehumidifier running to dry everything out. Two circuits popped in less than a week? What is going on?
I volunteered to keep JA company and join her in a 5k walk this Saturday. I thought it would motivate me to start exercising and make a dent in the extra 15 pounds I would LOVE to lose. Unfortunately it is mind over matter. I have walked a couple times and even rode the stationary bike while playing Galaga. I just am not exercising as much as I should. I am saddened that four years ago I was training for the 3 Day (60 miles in 3 days) and now I can't even get motivated to walk 3 Miles! I am looking forward to spending some time with JA and bringing back the memories of our walking days!
MS and I are doing well. Hard to imagine that we will have been dating ONE year this month. Our anniversary will be celebrated together at his brother's wedding, where he is the best man. Of course I have less than 1.5 weeks and I have absolutely no idea what to wear! The ceremony will be "brief" and outside in a park. As of last weekend, there are 213 people confirmed. TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN! What in the world do I wear? Beyond an outfit (and that famous week before of the month) I am trying not to assess what MS and I are doing. Where are we headed? While walking to the store on Sunday, MS pointed out a vacant lot on his street and suggested I could build a house on it and we could be neighbors. Maybe that got me thinking...
Work is work. There has been much drama lately and many people leaving the office due to the new "Acting Director". I don't recall ever blogging about it, but much of my personal angst began after the passing of my father when I received an anonymous typed note in my mailbox of an excerpt from an article about angry co-workers and borderline personality. I brought the issue to the attention of my Union Rep as I didn't want anymore harassment, although I couldn't say for sure who. Then I had several discussions with Supervisors. Things continued on a short downward spiral briefly thereafter. I was asked if I would move offices and now I feel like I am in a "timeout" as I sit in the corner and face the corner. I also received a note in my office of a dress code violation. This too shall pass and things are getting a little better. I would love to have a more appreciative and rewarding job - personally, professionally and financially. I am thankful for the employment and the ability to pay my bills and afford the extras that I choose and that choose for me (washer, dryer, dehumidifier...). I love the fact that I only work three miles from home. I know I hold myself back from wanting more, but what is it that I want?
It is hard to believe that tomorrow will be two months since my father passed. I am so glad that he is no longer suffering. It amazes me how much stress his health, his relationship with his wife and our relationships really affected me.
All in all, there isn't anything to complain about. A few bumps along the way, but life has been good. Two popped circuits so far. Whatever is next, I can handle it!
I can't believe how long it has been since my last post, although a little more recent than any consistent exercise! Things have been busy, but nothing too terribly crazy.
Little League World Series was a great time. T and I survived our last jaunt before school starting. Even "Tropical Storm Irene" didn't interfere too much: one consolation game cancellation and a rain delay. Two of my tires were low at one truck stop and fortunately I noticed and T used his tire knowledge to get us back on the road without issue.
School is in full swing. I have to say that I am glad T is out of the house and back into a routine. I think we function best with structure, even though I would love it if I didn't have to go into work five days a week and still received a pay check! His classes are uber difficult but he is managing, so far. Not so sure that Advanced Placement was the best option, but I am glad he is being challenged.
On the home front, my washing machine crashed last week. I am sure it was just a belt, but after 14 years it seemed due time to upgrade to a new set. I haven't managed to read the manuals yet - but the thought of a washer washing FOURTEEN pairs of jeans at a time? OMG I tore out the rest of the back fence and had a couple awesome bonfires at MS'. I managed to brand my toe with the poker and learned that fire tending in sandals isn't the smartest idea. I priced out new fencing and decided, maybe I don't need a fence right now. I purchased a few privacy trees to plant instead. After coming home on Monday, my dehumidifier was no longer working. I realized while the washer and dryer were being installed that a circuit had popped.
As the basement is pretty damp, I figured I was due for a new dehumidifier too. I purchased a new one on Monday night and am amazed at the power! I moved the dehumidifier into the den area last night and this morning I was astonished that the bucket was almost half full! I emptied it out in the wash basin and noticed the water wasn't draining well. Then I noticed that the floor drain wasn't working and all of the water went right to the floor and the carpet. Sigh...I checked the circuits and a different circuit was popped. So I turned it back on and the sump worked. Cleaned up the free standing water and now have a fan and the dehumidifier running to dry everything out. Two circuits popped in less than a week? What is going on?
I volunteered to keep JA company and join her in a 5k walk this Saturday. I thought it would motivate me to start exercising and make a dent in the extra 15 pounds I would LOVE to lose. Unfortunately it is mind over matter. I have walked a couple times and even rode the stationary bike while playing Galaga. I just am not exercising as much as I should. I am saddened that four years ago I was training for the 3 Day (60 miles in 3 days) and now I can't even get motivated to walk 3 Miles! I am looking forward to spending some time with JA and bringing back the memories of our walking days!
MS and I are doing well. Hard to imagine that we will have been dating ONE year this month. Our anniversary will be celebrated together at his brother's wedding, where he is the best man. Of course I have less than 1.5 weeks and I have absolutely no idea what to wear! The ceremony will be "brief" and outside in a park. As of last weekend, there are 213 people confirmed. TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN! What in the world do I wear? Beyond an outfit (and that famous week before of the month) I am trying not to assess what MS and I are doing. Where are we headed? While walking to the store on Sunday, MS pointed out a vacant lot on his street and suggested I could build a house on it and we could be neighbors. Maybe that got me thinking...
Work is work. There has been much drama lately and many people leaving the office due to the new "Acting Director". I don't recall ever blogging about it, but much of my personal angst began after the passing of my father when I received an anonymous typed note in my mailbox of an excerpt from an article about angry co-workers and borderline personality. I brought the issue to the attention of my Union Rep as I didn't want anymore harassment, although I couldn't say for sure who. Then I had several discussions with Supervisors. Things continued on a short downward spiral briefly thereafter. I was asked if I would move offices and now I feel like I am in a "timeout" as I sit in the corner and face the corner. I also received a note in my office of a dress code violation. This too shall pass and things are getting a little better. I would love to have a more appreciative and rewarding job - personally, professionally and financially. I am thankful for the employment and the ability to pay my bills and afford the extras that I choose and that choose for me (washer, dryer, dehumidifier...). I love the fact that I only work three miles from home. I know I hold myself back from wanting more, but what is it that I want?
It is hard to believe that tomorrow will be two months since my father passed. I am so glad that he is no longer suffering. It amazes me how much stress his health, his relationship with his wife and our relationships really affected me.
All in all, there isn't anything to complain about. A few bumps along the way, but life has been good. Two popped circuits so far. Whatever is next, I can handle it!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Little League World Series Roadtrip
As if I haven't had enough of baseball this year, a mother's love in never ending! When I arrived back in the states from our trip to Mexico, T texted and asked when he was with me for our week of vacation. He wanted to go to the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylvania.
Seeing that the return from my vacation with MS butted up to the weekend of respite of fostering and then my father's funeral, I told T to do some research. While he did some, the brunt of the research was done by...me. I spent this past weekend looking into hotel options and distance and juggling of my work schedule.
Effective today, I will be taking off Friday and Monday to take T to the Little League World Series. Tonight we booked a hotel for Friday and Saturday night nearby and a hotel en route home for Sunday night. I am sure we will pack up the car on Thursday night and head east, no need to make anymore plans or pack until the very last minute. T and I have a bowling marathon to tend to tomorrow and Wednesday I hope to get together with some friends out of town. I plan on working a full day Thursday. We will plan on stopping at my parent's Thursday night - two hours closer to Williamsport.
I am looking forward to the last minute getaway weekend with T before school starts. While I hope we do more than watch five games of baseball, at least it will be better than the constant games we have been watching on t.v.! I love last minute improv getways! Cheers to adventure!
Seeing that the return from my vacation with MS butted up to the weekend of respite of fostering and then my father's funeral, I told T to do some research. While he did some, the brunt of the research was done by...me. I spent this past weekend looking into hotel options and distance and juggling of my work schedule.
Effective today, I will be taking off Friday and Monday to take T to the Little League World Series. Tonight we booked a hotel for Friday and Saturday night nearby and a hotel en route home for Sunday night. I am sure we will pack up the car on Thursday night and head east, no need to make anymore plans or pack until the very last minute. T and I have a bowling marathon to tend to tomorrow and Wednesday I hope to get together with some friends out of town. I plan on working a full day Thursday. We will plan on stopping at my parent's Thursday night - two hours closer to Williamsport.
I am looking forward to the last minute getaway weekend with T before school starts. While I hope we do more than watch five games of baseball, at least it will be better than the constant games we have been watching on t.v.! I love last minute improv getways! Cheers to adventure!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
My Father's Passing
My father passed away in the early morning hours of August 6, 2011. As I had dreamed weeks earlier, my father passed while I was on vacation.
The plan was that he would begin to wean from the Primacor IV on Monday, August 8, 2011. He had stopped taking all of his medications. He had said his peace and was ready to die. He was ready to stop fighting. He passed in the night while still on the Primacor.
I learned of his passing by an email from my uncle. MS and I had been given free internet access at the resort in Mexico on Tuesday, August 8, 2011. I never did hear directly from his wife as I had expected. She and I shared several emails about the memorial. We shared a few words at the memorial. I doubt that she and I will ever speak again.
The night before the memorial service, I met with TS, LL, my brother and sister-in-law at one of my dad's favorite location to give one cheer and toast in his honor. As we toasted and I looked up at the bar, this is what I saw:
The plan was that he would begin to wean from the Primacor IV on Monday, August 8, 2011. He had stopped taking all of his medications. He had said his peace and was ready to die. He was ready to stop fighting. He passed in the night while still on the Primacor.
I learned of his passing by an email from my uncle. MS and I had been given free internet access at the resort in Mexico on Tuesday, August 8, 2011. I never did hear directly from his wife as I had expected. She and I shared several emails about the memorial. We shared a few words at the memorial. I doubt that she and I will ever speak again.
The night before the memorial service, I met with TS, LL, my brother and sister-in-law at one of my dad's favorite location to give one cheer and toast in his honor. As we toasted and I looked up at the bar, this is what I saw:
MAY YOU BE IN HEAVEN AN HOUR BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD
How fitting. Rest in Peace Dad. Much love and until we meet again...
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
My Father's Final Days
I have just spent the past hour or two going through my life, 36 years of photos. Unfortunately, it didn't take long. Growing up, my parents took many pictures. They were developed into slides. One of my favorite memories was having my parents set up the slide projector onto the screen or wall in the living room and sitting on the floor or couch cradling a bowl of popcorn and watching various reels of pictures. My dad had always talked about one day turning all of the slides into a DVD to capture all the memories. To my knowledge, that never happened. I have a small photo album of various pictures from infancy to graduation. The slides were destroyed in my mom's house fire in 1996.
I received an email this morning, August 1, 2011, updating of my father's welfare. He has refused all medication except the Primacor IV. As his wife had purchased enough full strength IV to last through August 2, 2011, I anticipate that he will begin the weaning process on August 3, 2011. He will wean for approximately three days and pass approximately two days thereafter. As I had anticipated from my dream weeks back, I will likely be in Mexico when he passes. Everything happens for a reason.
I posted this in December, after dealing with an array of emotions from saying goodbye to my father in early November and dealing with family drama. I posted this when my father turned 65 in early June. I didn't specifically post after my most recent visit to see my father on July 21 and 22, 2011. The most recent visits, I told my father I loved him and said bye, no longer the formal goodbye as I did in November, but still with tears in my eyes and sadness in my heart. Losing someone, regardless of the circumstances is never easy and involves many mixed emotions, even if truly a blessing.
As I have blogged about so many times before, my father and I are not very close. I make no excuses, I place no blame. It is what it is. I love my father. It is sad to realize that I have less than two dozen pictures of my father, many without me in them, over the past 36 years. Pictures down memory lane...but I don't need pictures to recall the memories. The memories to last a lifetime.
May you go peacefully dad. May your last few days be as free of pain and as comfortable and peaceful as possible. Until we meet again...I love you.
I received an email this morning, August 1, 2011, updating of my father's welfare. He has refused all medication except the Primacor IV. As his wife had purchased enough full strength IV to last through August 2, 2011, I anticipate that he will begin the weaning process on August 3, 2011. He will wean for approximately three days and pass approximately two days thereafter. As I had anticipated from my dream weeks back, I will likely be in Mexico when he passes. Everything happens for a reason.
I posted this in December, after dealing with an array of emotions from saying goodbye to my father in early November and dealing with family drama. I posted this when my father turned 65 in early June. I didn't specifically post after my most recent visit to see my father on July 21 and 22, 2011. The most recent visits, I told my father I loved him and said bye, no longer the formal goodbye as I did in November, but still with tears in my eyes and sadness in my heart. Losing someone, regardless of the circumstances is never easy and involves many mixed emotions, even if truly a blessing.
As I have blogged about so many times before, my father and I are not very close. I make no excuses, I place no blame. It is what it is. I love my father. It is sad to realize that I have less than two dozen pictures of my father, many without me in them, over the past 36 years. Pictures down memory lane...but I don't need pictures to recall the memories. The memories to last a lifetime.
May you go peacefully dad. May your last few days be as free of pain and as comfortable and peaceful as possible. Until we meet again...I love you.
 |
| Tampa Florida: November 2010 |
Friday, July 15, 2011
Perfect Timing To Be...
In the midst of craziness of Little League regular season finishing, team tournaments, Allstar tournaments and T's weekend travel tournament team, I am almost at the point of no return of baseball. The last minute craziness of scheduled practices, the lack of communication and the forgetfulness of a fourteen year old with his baseball equipment dispersed between homes, I am at my limit!
In addition to baseball there is the little nuances of the latest round of hidden drama of an ailing father and his wife's adolescent behavior and lack of communication toppled on top of a job of no return or reward. The job issues shall pass - since they are crisis related for the most part - but the surmounting frustration of recruiting and retaining when the reality of people's lives, family and abuse occur leaves the situation prospects rather dismal.
While the much needed vacation could come sooner, I am definitely welcoming the vacation that MS planned for just the two of us, seven days/six nights (cutting a night short to return to motherhood and a respite foster care placement) in Riviera Maya, Mexico.
We are staying at one of the adult only resorts of karismahotels. While I went to the Riviera Maya in 2008 and stayed at an Iberostar with JN, we never left the resort. MS and I are hoping to travel and venture to Cancun and Playa Del Carmen. He would like to go deep sea fishing and we both would like to parasail. He would also love to play some golf which I said would be a great solo opportunity for him :) but agreed that if he wanted company (and entertainment) I would golf with him! I can't wait for this much needed vacation. MS and I have been spending more time together when we can, but clearly this seven day vacation traveling out of the country shall test our relationship.
I believe that he and I are ready for this test.
In addition to baseball there is the little nuances of the latest round of hidden drama of an ailing father and his wife's adolescent behavior and lack of communication toppled on top of a job of no return or reward. The job issues shall pass - since they are crisis related for the most part - but the surmounting frustration of recruiting and retaining when the reality of people's lives, family and abuse occur leaves the situation prospects rather dismal.
While the much needed vacation could come sooner, I am definitely welcoming the vacation that MS planned for just the two of us, seven days/six nights (cutting a night short to return to motherhood and a respite foster care placement) in Riviera Maya, Mexico.
We are staying at one of the adult only resorts of karismahotels. While I went to the Riviera Maya in 2008 and stayed at an Iberostar with JN, we never left the resort. MS and I are hoping to travel and venture to Cancun and Playa Del Carmen. He would like to go deep sea fishing and we both would like to parasail. He would also love to play some golf which I said would be a great solo opportunity for him :) but agreed that if he wanted company (and entertainment) I would golf with him! I can't wait for this much needed vacation. MS and I have been spending more time together when we can, but clearly this seven day vacation traveling out of the country shall test our relationship.
I believe that he and I are ready for this test.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Sixty Five Years Old...
Last week was my father's birthday. He turned SIXTY-FIVE. SIXTY. FIVE.
I have to admit that as of November 1, 2010, I would have bet money on the fact that he would turn 65. I would have bet money on the fact that he wouldn't live 65 days. Obviously, I was wrong. I am OK with being wrong, really I am. I am just not sure if being wrong in this case is...right.
I called my father on his birthday and left him a message. I purposely didn't wish him the usual "Happy Birthday" or "Hope you have a Happy Birthday". I am not one to lie, not very well at least and never intentionally. Happy is relative, and not in the related way as in wishing my father Happy any day. It just isn't possible. I can wish him a day better than the one before. I can wish him happiness, but I know that he has far outgrown and surpassed the ability to BE HAPPY.
He called me back. Our phone call was breathy and shallow. He gasped for breath. He grasped for words. He was failing at both. He was discharged from the hospital after SEVEN weeks. After TEN days home, he was taken back to the ER. According to my brother, he was given three options: 1) Go home and get strong for the LVAD (Seriously?), 2) Go home with Hospice & no Primacor IV (die in two weeks) or 3) Be admitted to the hospital with IV and die in August. Seems like a wide array of options, which is really feasible and realistic? I have no idea. The Social Worker never found the time or reason to return my calls.
My father is home. What does that mean? I have no idea. Each day is becoming more difficult. The Primacor is no longer as effective. The end is near. How near?
I wonder how I will feel when his end is here. I wonder how long it will be before I am notified. I wonder how I will be affected. The reality, I try not to wonder. When reality happens, I will no longer wonder. I will know.
I have to admit that as of November 1, 2010, I would have bet money on the fact that he would turn 65. I would have bet money on the fact that he wouldn't live 65 days. Obviously, I was wrong. I am OK with being wrong, really I am. I am just not sure if being wrong in this case is...right.
I called my father on his birthday and left him a message. I purposely didn't wish him the usual "Happy Birthday" or "Hope you have a Happy Birthday". I am not one to lie, not very well at least and never intentionally. Happy is relative, and not in the related way as in wishing my father Happy any day. It just isn't possible. I can wish him a day better than the one before. I can wish him happiness, but I know that he has far outgrown and surpassed the ability to BE HAPPY.
He called me back. Our phone call was breathy and shallow. He gasped for breath. He grasped for words. He was failing at both. He was discharged from the hospital after SEVEN weeks. After TEN days home, he was taken back to the ER. According to my brother, he was given three options: 1) Go home and get strong for the LVAD (Seriously?), 2) Go home with Hospice & no Primacor IV (die in two weeks) or 3) Be admitted to the hospital with IV and die in August. Seems like a wide array of options, which is really feasible and realistic? I have no idea. The Social Worker never found the time or reason to return my calls.
My father is home. What does that mean? I have no idea. Each day is becoming more difficult. The Primacor is no longer as effective. The end is near. How near?
I wonder how I will feel when his end is here. I wonder how long it will be before I am notified. I wonder how I will be affected. The reality, I try not to wonder. When reality happens, I will no longer wonder. I will know.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Mother's Day
My parents are snowbirds. They just returned from Florida last week and I had the opportunity to spend Mother's Day with my mom - even if only for just over a day! Anytime with my mom is wonderful, even if her repeated badgering and obsessing over a marinade for the meat on the kabobs was getting on my only nerve!
Unfortunately mom and I didn't get any pictures. T and I had a few photos and I have to say I wasn't a fan of any of the results. But I will keep them anyway as they are worth the memory in reviewing in retrospect. I have just become more than disappointed in myself and my lack of motivation in my appearance. I am hoping that the warmer weather will increase my desire to be more physically active and lose weight.
T, mom and I had fun making a variety of kabobs for dinner including vegetables, fruit, steak and chicken. They were super delicious and the company was fantastic!
Hope you had a fabulous Mother's Day and were able to share the day with loved ones!
Unfortunately mom and I didn't get any pictures. T and I had a few photos and I have to say I wasn't a fan of any of the results. But I will keep them anyway as they are worth the memory in reviewing in retrospect. I have just become more than disappointed in myself and my lack of motivation in my appearance. I am hoping that the warmer weather will increase my desire to be more physically active and lose weight.
 |
| Mom's Gift |
Father Update
My father suffered a small stroke. He has regained some movement in his right hand with the assistance of physical therapy. He is finally able to walk small distances but he needs a walker or wheel chair for longer distances.
I called the nurses' station last week to learn that he had been moved. The nurse didn't know or wouldn't disclose where he was moved to. I contacted my Aunt and she had heard from my Uncle the previous day that my father was being moved to a physical therapy floor. I emailed my Uncle and am now on his mailing list, which gets me involved in the drama as he makes sure that "A" receives all correspondence as does everyone else who is on his mailing list when he emails her. It is entertaining to be an observer for a while.
I left a message for my father's Social Worker with the temporary Social Worker. She called me back days later and left a message. I missed her call and she was unavailable thirty minutes later. That was Friday. I still have not heard from her. I guess nurse Social Workers don't have the same Standard of Promptness that I have. I meant to call the Social Worker sooner but I mistakenly called my father instead. Fortunately his wife wasn't with him at the time and our conversation was fine.
He anticipates being on the physical therapy floor - where PT is DUMB and the response time of staff is almost non-existent for a week. He will then move into his wife's new handicapped accessible apartment for up to 6 weeks before the LVAD. Personally, I think the return to the apartment is the hospital's way of testing if they are vested in therapy, medication and follow through. My father did say that "A" is frustrated that she can't get to see him at the hospital when she wants due to transportation issues.
Hmmm...so how would that make them good recipients of an LVAD?
I called the nurses' station last week to learn that he had been moved. The nurse didn't know or wouldn't disclose where he was moved to. I contacted my Aunt and she had heard from my Uncle the previous day that my father was being moved to a physical therapy floor. I emailed my Uncle and am now on his mailing list, which gets me involved in the drama as he makes sure that "A" receives all correspondence as does everyone else who is on his mailing list when he emails her. It is entertaining to be an observer for a while.
I left a message for my father's Social Worker with the temporary Social Worker. She called me back days later and left a message. I missed her call and she was unavailable thirty minutes later. That was Friday. I still have not heard from her. I guess nurse Social Workers don't have the same Standard of Promptness that I have. I meant to call the Social Worker sooner but I mistakenly called my father instead. Fortunately his wife wasn't with him at the time and our conversation was fine.
He anticipates being on the physical therapy floor - where PT is DUMB and the response time of staff is almost non-existent for a week. He will then move into his wife's new handicapped accessible apartment for up to 6 weeks before the LVAD. Personally, I think the return to the apartment is the hospital's way of testing if they are vested in therapy, medication and follow through. My father did say that "A" is frustrated that she can't get to see him at the hospital when she wants due to transportation issues.
Hmmm...so how would that make them good recipients of an LVAD?
Friday, April 15, 2011
Breakable
Tears well up in my eyes. I fight to keep them from slowly sliding down my cheeks. I try to think of pleasant things. I try to imagine that I am tough, strong and invincible. I am not. I loose the battle. The tear falls quickly. Then one after another in rapid succession. I try to lick them away before they land making a small wet spot soon to become a pool of tears. I wipe my face. I wish I was stronger. I wish I wasn't affected. I wish that words weren't so hurtful. My wishes go unanswered.
I received an email tonight from my father's wife, delivered at 7:13p.m. The subject, "your dad". The content, "Your dad had a stroke. A"
Let me rewind to what has transpired between this last post and the above email. I have attempted to "play nice". I have become the passive listener, no questions, supporter as much as possible in correspondence with his wife. Somehow, I managed to get on her mass phone texting updates as adding me to the email list was too difficult. Clearly, I am not included on much of communication. Blessing in many ways of course but a curse in others. See, not having control or information of a situation is brutal for me. I am left feeling like the abandoned child left cowering in the dark corner waiting for permission to be included. To no longer be shunned. To understand the whys of the punishment and yet thankful for the solace of the lack of torture.
On vacation I happened to receive an "oops" text from A at 4:28a.m. that read, "Oops! Put in wrong area code to X's ph no. Here are phone numbers to contact him to wish him well his rm no. Is good until Thiursday. Please vall him & weish hio. Well. (cell) 1 XXX XXX XXXX (Rm) 1 XXX XXX XXXX. I will be in Fl packing up & he needs all the support he can get now." Her previous text had been sent at 4:40p.m. the afternoon before and had listed the wrong area code for his cell phone he has had for years. As I keep my phone on at night for emergencies, I was not happy to receive the text. I wondered if she had been drinking.
Hours later of no sleep, I texted her the following, "A unless it is mid-day or an emergency, please do not send texts, emails are fine. I do not appreciate general texts at 428a.m. Thank you." Her response, "Did it wake you up? No prob....no more texts to you...." I should have left it at that, but I responded, "Yes it did and I have been up ever since." Which she responded, "Awwwww" That last text was received on April 4, 2011.
I have talked with my father on the phone once since those texts. He told me his LVAD surgery was changed from 4/8 to 4/11. He hoped his wife would be back from Florida by then. His prostate cancer scare was negative.
On 4/11, I called the hospital Social Worker and learned he didn't have surgery. My brother is getting calls and texts from A but I no longer am. I am aware of strained emails between relatives, my brother and A. I am somewhat thankful I am not included in the drama.
On 4/14, A sends out a mass email saying that my father is currently in surgery for a "carotid (sp) artery repaired with a stint". He should be back in his room by 1p.m. with the LVAD to be scheduled in two weeks. I hear nothing until I receive the email:
7:13p.m. Subject "your dad" "Your dad had a stroke. A"
I call my brother and leave a message. I call my aunt and leave a message. I call A and get her voicemail. I call my father's room and a woman answers. I ask for A. The woman says, "This is A." I respond, "Hi A. it is M." She interjects and says, "Your dad is sleeping. I will tell him you called. Good bye." She hangs up the phone.
I cry. I curse. Is this really what it has come to?
I gather myself and with help I find the number for the hospital. I call and am transferred to the Nurse's Station. I ask for information about my father and I am told that he has to give permission for me to speak with a nurse. I am put on hold. I cry more knowing that if SHE has any say, I will learn nothing. I will be told nothing.
To my surprise, the nurse returns quickly and says that he said OK. The nurse tells me that my father's surgery went well. A CAT scan was completed and there was no sign of a stroke; however, his right wrist and hand are showing weakness. The stent is working. His blood sugar is 140. He didn't have 12 biopsies on his prostate that he reported to me on the phone, but the biopsy was negative. The LVAD isn't scheduled yet. There was nothing else to be reported or to inquire. I am given permission to contact the Nurse's station directly with inquires.
My dad is doing better than he was yesterday before the stent, despite some hand weakness. The blood flow is drastically improved.
A managed to text and call my brother. She textedLVAD? Who am I to have these thoughts?
Funerals can be a time to mourn and rejoice the life of a loved one. Funerals are to support and love those left behind. In early November, I said goodbye to my dad. To the shell of the man that still resembles my dad. I see no reason to be at a funeral for HER.
I am breakable. I am weak. I am no longer his little girl. I am a mother. I am a woman. And while I shed tears and struggle with being tough and strong, I am not.
I am tired of shedding tears. I am so very tired...
I received an email tonight from my father's wife, delivered at 7:13p.m. The subject, "your dad". The content, "Your dad had a stroke. A"
Let me rewind to what has transpired between this last post and the above email. I have attempted to "play nice". I have become the passive listener, no questions, supporter as much as possible in correspondence with his wife. Somehow, I managed to get on her mass phone texting updates as adding me to the email list was too difficult. Clearly, I am not included on much of communication. Blessing in many ways of course but a curse in others. See, not having control or information of a situation is brutal for me. I am left feeling like the abandoned child left cowering in the dark corner waiting for permission to be included. To no longer be shunned. To understand the whys of the punishment and yet thankful for the solace of the lack of torture.
On vacation I happened to receive an "oops" text from A at 4:28a.m. that read, "Oops! Put in wrong area code to X's ph no. Here are phone numbers to contact him to wish him well his rm no. Is good until Thiursday. Please vall him & weish hio. Well. (cell) 1 XXX XXX XXXX (Rm) 1 XXX XXX XXXX. I will be in Fl packing up & he needs all the support he can get now." Her previous text had been sent at 4:40p.m. the afternoon before and had listed the wrong area code for his cell phone he has had for years. As I keep my phone on at night for emergencies, I was not happy to receive the text. I wondered if she had been drinking.
Hours later of no sleep, I texted her the following, "A unless it is mid-day or an emergency, please do not send texts, emails are fine. I do not appreciate general texts at 428a.m. Thank you." Her response, "Did it wake you up? No prob....no more texts to you...." I should have left it at that, but I responded, "Yes it did and I have been up ever since." Which she responded, "Awwwww" That last text was received on April 4, 2011.
I have talked with my father on the phone once since those texts. He told me his LVAD surgery was changed from 4/8 to 4/11. He hoped his wife would be back from Florida by then. His prostate cancer scare was negative.
On 4/11, I called the hospital Social Worker and learned he didn't have surgery. My brother is getting calls and texts from A but I no longer am. I am aware of strained emails between relatives, my brother and A. I am somewhat thankful I am not included in the drama.
On 4/14, A sends out a mass email saying that my father is currently in surgery for a "carotid (sp) artery repaired with a stint". He should be back in his room by 1p.m. with the LVAD to be scheduled in two weeks. I hear nothing until I receive the email:
7:13p.m. Subject "your dad" "Your dad had a stroke. A"
I call my brother and leave a message. I call my aunt and leave a message. I call A and get her voicemail. I call my father's room and a woman answers. I ask for A. The woman says, "This is A." I respond, "Hi A. it is M." She interjects and says, "Your dad is sleeping. I will tell him you called. Good bye." She hangs up the phone.
I cry. I curse. Is this really what it has come to?
I gather myself and with help I find the number for the hospital. I call and am transferred to the Nurse's Station. I ask for information about my father and I am told that he has to give permission for me to speak with a nurse. I am put on hold. I cry more knowing that if SHE has any say, I will learn nothing. I will be told nothing.
To my surprise, the nurse returns quickly and says that he said OK. The nurse tells me that my father's surgery went well. A CAT scan was completed and there was no sign of a stroke; however, his right wrist and hand are showing weakness. The stent is working. His blood sugar is 140. He didn't have 12 biopsies on his prostate that he reported to me on the phone, but the biopsy was negative. The LVAD isn't scheduled yet. There was nothing else to be reported or to inquire. I am given permission to contact the Nurse's station directly with inquires.
My dad is doing better than he was yesterday before the stent, despite some hand weakness. The blood flow is drastically improved.
A managed to text and call my brother. She textedLVAD? Who am I to have these thoughts?
Funerals can be a time to mourn and rejoice the life of a loved one. Funerals are to support and love those left behind. In early November, I said goodbye to my dad. To the shell of the man that still resembles my dad. I see no reason to be at a funeral for HER.
I am breakable. I am weak. I am no longer his little girl. I am a mother. I am a woman. And while I shed tears and struggle with being tough and strong, I am not.
I am tired of shedding tears. I am so very tired...
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Father Update
My father is officially back in Michigan. He and his wife flew into town on Friday night. He has an appointment ("eval") on Monday at the University of Michigan hospital where his wife hopes he takes up "residence". He will be out of his IV Primacor as of 5p.m. Monday, but his wife has "no worries". By moving up to Michigan, they ended Hospice's involvement.
As of now, they are staying in a hotel about 40 minutes away from UofM. Neither of them drive. As of yesterday, my father was unaware how he was getting to his appointment. They have a "hi" luncheon planned for this afternoon across the state. I had talked to T about going and decided that we wouldn't. Worked out well considering my car issues and the advisement to not drive to "Detroit or Chicago", my first "respite" foster child experience, and other obligations. Apparently they anticipate 40 people, but yet neither my father or his wife even considered that maybe they see their daughter or grandson outside of a mass gathering at an Applebees. So why should we drive 5.5 hours roundtrip for an hour lunch?
T received a birthday card and gift card in the mail on Friday. I talked with my father yesterday and told him T would be calling to thank him. T didn't (I can only nag so much!). So after the movie today I told T he had to call and give thanks. T wanted to shower first. NO.
I gave T Grandpa's cell phone number. He called from his room. His side of the conversation went like this, "Hi Grandma A, it is T. Grandma A it is T. Hello? Grandma A?" Then he said, "Well that went well. Grandma A hung up on me."
Seriously? So I use my son as "a pawn" and they don't even have the audacity to listen to him when he calls but hang up on him?
So I called from my phone and immediately my father answered. Not A. Not his wife. So clearly, she avoids MY calls at all expense, but another cell phone call (which is registered under MY name) she answers. Whatever. I tell my father that T just called and A hung up on him. That he will be calling back from his phone. My father said OK. No admittance of what had transpired. No apology. Whatever.
T called back and this time Grandpa answered the phone. They talked for about ten minutes.
Is this really FAMILY?
As of now, they are staying in a hotel about 40 minutes away from UofM. Neither of them drive. As of yesterday, my father was unaware how he was getting to his appointment. They have a "hi" luncheon planned for this afternoon across the state. I had talked to T about going and decided that we wouldn't. Worked out well considering my car issues and the advisement to not drive to "Detroit or Chicago", my first "respite" foster child experience, and other obligations. Apparently they anticipate 40 people, but yet neither my father or his wife even considered that maybe they see their daughter or grandson outside of a mass gathering at an Applebees. So why should we drive 5.5 hours roundtrip for an hour lunch?
T received a birthday card and gift card in the mail on Friday. I talked with my father yesterday and told him T would be calling to thank him. T didn't (I can only nag so much!). So after the movie today I told T he had to call and give thanks. T wanted to shower first. NO.
I gave T Grandpa's cell phone number. He called from his room. His side of the conversation went like this, "Hi Grandma A, it is T. Grandma A it is T. Hello? Grandma A?" Then he said, "Well that went well. Grandma A hung up on me."
Seriously? So I use my son as "a pawn" and they don't even have the audacity to listen to him when he calls but hang up on him?
So I called from my phone and immediately my father answered. Not A. Not his wife. So clearly, she avoids MY calls at all expense, but another cell phone call (which is registered under MY name) she answers. Whatever. I tell my father that T just called and A hung up on him. That he will be calling back from his phone. My father said OK. No admittance of what had transpired. No apology. Whatever.
T called back and this time Grandpa answered the phone. They talked for about ten minutes.
Is this really FAMILY?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Brother's 40th Birthday Boxes
Last week I posted about what I wanted to do for my brother's Big 40th Birthday gift here. I finished the gift and unlike my baking adventures of tonight, it turned out the way I had anticipated. ALMOST.
So here in order of all of the sugary goodness, are 40 boxes of cereal with an example of the $1 taped.
And on the other side of the money is the birthday wish for my Brother.
So here in order of all of the sugary goodness, are 40 boxes of cereal with an example of the $1 taped.
 |
| 40 Boxes of SUGAR Cereal |
 |
| Saying on one side, folded dollars on other side |
I was a little concerned about what type of box to package the gift in. I used an empty copy paper box from work, which had ample room left over! I filled the extra space with lots of tissue paper so that the boxes would stay in order of the greeting. Then, I sealed up the box with packaging tape. I covered the box writing with paper bag and packaging tape. I addressed the box.
And just to be sure that this adventure was so true to form of me, I realized after sealing everything, I didn't actually purchase a birthday card. Or leave a personal note and sign love and from his sister and nephew. Oops. Not that he can't figure it out from the greeting on the boxes, but still. I wasn't about to reopen the package. Oh well, as is.
I did look for a good 40th card today that I could just mail since I paid the $10 shipping fee for the box and sent it on the way. I didn't find anything and decided he is capable of reading the greeting and understanding the meaning and money, right?
Oh shit...I think I will be getting a card this weekend and dropping it in the mail!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Father Update
I am doing my best to not post about my father. I haven't talked to him much since the blow up/message I received from his wife (here) but I also haven't not called him at all.
My dad is very tired. Actually, the last time we talked on the phone was probably one of the best conversations we have had, outside of my visit to Tampa when I said goodbye in person. He seemed coherent. He was tired, but could hold the conversation and we talked for almost twenty minutes.
Yesterday the mass email came that his health is "not good". He has become too weak to stand without assistance. He is on continuous oxygen. His appetite is diminishing. The Primacor IV is no longer working as it was initially. She completed the email saying:
"I know that I should be seeing one set of footprints in the sand, but I still see two sets of footprints in the sand..."
While not entirely sure I understand what she was saying, I believe she is saying that God isn't carrying him yet, as he continues to fight the odds and walk alongside.
I responded to her email and we shared a few civil, non-committal emails of continued thoughts and prayers. I questioned nothing.
Today, she sent another mass email. This time that the news is worse. That he is having difficulty swallowing although using a straw has proven successful. He was able to take his medication smashed into applesauce but cream of wheat, he can't swallow (Well honestly, I have issues swallowing cream of wheat too, but that is besides the point.) She had tried to contact Hospice and the Cardiologist and was considering contacting an ambulance to take him to the ER. I emailed her back. She responded that additionally, his IV had a leak. Her next email said that he was en route to the hospital.
As of late this afternoon, several hours after being admitted, he was stable. He is doing well. The issue? His IV was not connected. The IV that pumps his heart for him, was not connected for almost 12 hours. He is eating and swallowing again. His wife complained about Hospice and that they are "useless" and hadn't returned her call from 9 hours prior.
Funny thing...I decided again to see what I could find out, not trusting his wife. With the assistance of Google and the thought that HIPPA and Confidentiality would prohibit anyone from talking with me, I contacted Hospice. I was transferred to the right location. Another woman, someone that answers the phones informed me of who my father's Social Worker is and said that she would leave her a message and I should get a call back in the morning.
THREE MINUTES LATER. THREE. MINUTES. LATER. I received a call from the Social Worker. She was willing to talk to me and that was before I informed her that I too was a Social Worker. She listened and was informative and stated that she hasn't seen my father in almost three weeks but the nurse goes to the home weekly. She was unaware of any change in his health and that he had been admitted to the ER hours earlier. So how is it that I can get a return call back in minutes when his wife claims to not get a return call after almost 12 hours?
Emotionally, I am void. I can't get frustrated with her. I accept that she is soon to be a grieving widow. If for no other reason than to lose her husband, companion and more than half her income. Really, I am not that heartless. JA asked if I would go back down to Florida to see him.
Honestly. NO. Dead or Alive, there is no reason for me to return back to Florida. I said goodbye to my DAD in November 2010. I grieved the dad that I knew. Letting go of someone that you love that no longer exists in the shell of who once was is difficult. The journey has been long and painful but I have found closure.
No matter how much chaos she tries to instill, I appreciate that there are professionals that I can contact for the honest truth. That I can confirm that Hospice is involved because my father is dying. My dad has passed although on rare occasions I can still hear the man he was, temporarily.
I loved you Dad. I love you Dad. I hope and pray that soon, your pain and suffering will end and you will find your happiness, always.
My dad is very tired. Actually, the last time we talked on the phone was probably one of the best conversations we have had, outside of my visit to Tampa when I said goodbye in person. He seemed coherent. He was tired, but could hold the conversation and we talked for almost twenty minutes.
Yesterday the mass email came that his health is "not good". He has become too weak to stand without assistance. He is on continuous oxygen. His appetite is diminishing. The Primacor IV is no longer working as it was initially. She completed the email saying:
"I know that I should be seeing one set of footprints in the sand, but I still see two sets of footprints in the sand..."
While not entirely sure I understand what she was saying, I believe she is saying that God isn't carrying him yet, as he continues to fight the odds and walk alongside.
I responded to her email and we shared a few civil, non-committal emails of continued thoughts and prayers. I questioned nothing.
Today, she sent another mass email. This time that the news is worse. That he is having difficulty swallowing although using a straw has proven successful. He was able to take his medication smashed into applesauce but cream of wheat, he can't swallow (Well honestly, I have issues swallowing cream of wheat too, but that is besides the point.) She had tried to contact Hospice and the Cardiologist and was considering contacting an ambulance to take him to the ER. I emailed her back. She responded that additionally, his IV had a leak. Her next email said that he was en route to the hospital.
As of late this afternoon, several hours after being admitted, he was stable. He is doing well. The issue? His IV was not connected. The IV that pumps his heart for him, was not connected for almost 12 hours. He is eating and swallowing again. His wife complained about Hospice and that they are "useless" and hadn't returned her call from 9 hours prior.
Funny thing...I decided again to see what I could find out, not trusting his wife. With the assistance of Google and the thought that HIPPA and Confidentiality would prohibit anyone from talking with me, I contacted Hospice. I was transferred to the right location. Another woman, someone that answers the phones informed me of who my father's Social Worker is and said that she would leave her a message and I should get a call back in the morning.
THREE MINUTES LATER. THREE. MINUTES. LATER. I received a call from the Social Worker. She was willing to talk to me and that was before I informed her that I too was a Social Worker. She listened and was informative and stated that she hasn't seen my father in almost three weeks but the nurse goes to the home weekly. She was unaware of any change in his health and that he had been admitted to the ER hours earlier. So how is it that I can get a return call back in minutes when his wife claims to not get a return call after almost 12 hours?
Emotionally, I am void. I can't get frustrated with her. I accept that she is soon to be a grieving widow. If for no other reason than to lose her husband, companion and more than half her income. Really, I am not that heartless. JA asked if I would go back down to Florida to see him.
Honestly. NO. Dead or Alive, there is no reason for me to return back to Florida. I said goodbye to my DAD in November 2010. I grieved the dad that I knew. Letting go of someone that you love that no longer exists in the shell of who once was is difficult. The journey has been long and painful but I have found closure.
No matter how much chaos she tries to instill, I appreciate that there are professionals that I can contact for the honest truth. That I can confirm that Hospice is involved because my father is dying. My dad has passed although on rare occasions I can still hear the man he was, temporarily.
I loved you Dad. I love you Dad. I hope and pray that soon, your pain and suffering will end and you will find your happiness, always.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Gift Card Greed
My brother will be turning the big 4-0 in a few weeks. I already know what I want to get him: a gag gift of forty boxes of sugar cereal and a $40 gift certificate to the local mall to spend on himself. Of course easier said than done, right? Well in my world...yes, right.
I have been thinking about his gift for quite some time. See, I'm not a big gift giver, especially when it comes to birthdays. Not that I'm a scrooge, we just typically don't do more than spend for the kids and give a call on birthdays. But the BIG 4-0, that's worth acknowledging in a small way.
You see, my brother is a fitness F-R-E-A-K. He takes his personal health VERY seriously. He fears that he will inherit our dad's medical genes. He has been combating the invisible demons and potential threat of diabetes. Everything that he does, he does with vigour and physical endurance. Every opportunity he turns into a workout and he takes his health, fitness and body to the extreme.
So I wasn't surprised to hear last fall that my nephews were first allowed to eat cereal last summer, the healthy kind of course.
My brother knows that he has a sweet tooth, one that is hard to control once started. During a trip to visit them many years ago, my brother was ecstatic to have some of my son's Peanut Butter Crunch cereal. Or his rare visits to our house and looking at the cereal options.
So for his birthday, I want to buy him 40 individual boxes of sugar cereal to eat, consume or dispose of at his leisure. Because afterall, I am a sweet sister. I am anticipating that the Sam's club mixed boxes will not come in the right amount, so I will be buying extra. No big deal.
I decided I would personalize a gift card by getting it to the mall near where his family has just relocated. I got online to learn that mall gift cards are generic. There is nothing that identifies where the gift card is to also thereby not restricting where he can use the card either. However, in attempting to purchase the no fee card, there are shipping and handling fees, gift card fees and a processing fee.
The Generic American Express Gift Card of $40.00 value will cost me $50.92.
I think I will grab a generic card locally instead. Or maybe I will tape $1 dollar bills on every single box of cereal. How fun is that? =)
I have been thinking about his gift for quite some time. See, I'm not a big gift giver, especially when it comes to birthdays. Not that I'm a scrooge, we just typically don't do more than spend for the kids and give a call on birthdays. But the BIG 4-0, that's worth acknowledging in a small way.
You see, my brother is a fitness F-R-E-A-K. He takes his personal health VERY seriously. He fears that he will inherit our dad's medical genes. He has been combating the invisible demons and potential threat of diabetes. Everything that he does, he does with vigour and physical endurance. Every opportunity he turns into a workout and he takes his health, fitness and body to the extreme.
So I wasn't surprised to hear last fall that my nephews were first allowed to eat cereal last summer, the healthy kind of course.
My brother knows that he has a sweet tooth, one that is hard to control once started. During a trip to visit them many years ago, my brother was ecstatic to have some of my son's Peanut Butter Crunch cereal. Or his rare visits to our house and looking at the cereal options.
So for his birthday, I want to buy him 40 individual boxes of sugar cereal to eat, consume or dispose of at his leisure. Because afterall, I am a sweet sister. I am anticipating that the Sam's club mixed boxes will not come in the right amount, so I will be buying extra. No big deal.
I decided I would personalize a gift card by getting it to the mall near where his family has just relocated. I got online to learn that mall gift cards are generic. There is nothing that identifies where the gift card is to also thereby not restricting where he can use the card either. However, in attempting to purchase the no fee card, there are shipping and handling fees, gift card fees and a processing fee.
The Generic American Express Gift Card of $40.00 value will cost me $50.92.
I think I will grab a generic card locally instead. Or maybe I will tape $1 dollar bills on every single box of cereal. How fun is that? =)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Father Figures, Facts or Figuratively
Interestingly enough, after my post last night I received an update on my dad this morning at 7:25a.m. No matter how many times I tell his wife I don't need my own personal update, just a copy of her mass updates that she emails, she has felt inclined to email me personally, twice.
Now don't go thinking that she is being the bigger person by doing so. I appreciate the update, but I'm sure she has sent weekly if not more often updates to others. I have gotten TWO since early November. TWO.
So the update was two sentences. Basically advising that he is still alive and doing well. His A1C level is now officially at 10 and needs to be at a 7 before he is eligible for a VAD. Apparently when he was in Tampa, hospitalized for almost two weeks and sent home on Hospice, he was an 11.
Not that I know anything about A1C, this will be next google search expedition, but with my simplistic calculations a drop in one in more than two months doesn't seem significant, especially given that he was given weeks to months to live. At the current rate of the reduction, to reach a 7 will be July 2011, minimally.
His wife previously anticipated he would receive a VAD and then a heart transplant. The window of opportunity for a heart transplant will be closed effective his 65th birthday in June 2011.
Good thing health isn't a matter of numbers and calculations. Maybe there is still a chance. A slim chance...or maybe the boy will finally stop crying...wolf.
Now don't go thinking that she is being the bigger person by doing so. I appreciate the update, but I'm sure she has sent weekly if not more often updates to others. I have gotten TWO since early November. TWO.
So the update was two sentences. Basically advising that he is still alive and doing well. His A1C level is now officially at 10 and needs to be at a 7 before he is eligible for a VAD. Apparently when he was in Tampa, hospitalized for almost two weeks and sent home on Hospice, he was an 11.
Not that I know anything about A1C, this will be next google search expedition, but with my simplistic calculations a drop in one in more than two months doesn't seem significant, especially given that he was given weeks to months to live. At the current rate of the reduction, to reach a 7 will be July 2011, minimally.
His wife previously anticipated he would receive a VAD and then a heart transplant. The window of opportunity for a heart transplant will be closed effective his 65th birthday in June 2011.
Good thing health isn't a matter of numbers and calculations. Maybe there is still a chance. A slim chance...or maybe the boy will finally stop crying...wolf.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
'Tis the Season to Give Thanks
'Tis the Season of Christmas. Christmas and holidays can be very difficult and stressful times. I am feeling absolutely fortunate and blessed. I do feel that I am never given more than I can handle, despite questioning and wondering the validity of that statement at times. I have a survivor mentality and personality and most of all the best mother and friend I could ever want or ask!
I am so very thankful for my mom and her husband. For their love, support and faith. For their selflessness and their unconditional love. For their acceptance and guidance and nurturance. For their ability to listen, console and advise. For their ability to be fabulous grandparents, parents and friends.
I am thankful for my health, my son, my employment, my sanity, my family and my friends to name a few. I know that silently I give thanks. I recognize who I am and the opportunities and experiences I have endured. The road less traveled, the road of speed bumps and the Sunday scenic drives along the path that often seems like a six-lane expressway.
At this holiday season, I feel blessed. I AM blessed.
I wish and hope for you: Wishing a blessed, safe and happy holiday season to you and yours!
Father: Not a Eulogy, Not What I Wanted...Acceptance? Deliverance? Diatribe?
I've yet to find the words to express about my dad, my father, the man who shared a life with my mother and raised me. A man that I idolized and hoped to one day find in a partner. A man that when I was a Senior in High School shattered my world by treating me as an adult and confidant and disclosing information to a daughter that she should have never had to hear because he was divorcing my mom. Words that have left permanent scars and have me questioning every relationship I ever have.
When I was 19, I went to my aunt's house to celebrate Christmas. My dad stepped out of the room and came back with a check for me for Christmas. He spelled my name wrong. He was still hungover from the night before. He. Spelled. My. Name. Wrong. My dad also told me that as an adult I could choose to have a relationship with him and I knew where to find him.
When I was 22 years old, two years after graduating college, I found myself living with my boyfriend and pregnant. I was disappointed in myself. I was scared. I felt alone. I feared telling my parents, even though I graduated High School at 17 and other than the first summer after college, I never again lived with my parent(s). When I told my dad, he said, "I'm not surprised. What do you expect when you are shacking up with your boyfriend."
Maybe I should rewind...I've posted it before - the year of 1982. Sometimes, I think my mom makes excuses for my dad, his health and that he isn't the father and dad and man he once was. I want to believe that. I want to believe that. I try to keep low expectations to not be disappointed - but the truth is, I expect things from my dad, my father - in sickness - as I did in health. I was disappointed. I continue to be disappointed.
I believe my dad gave up on living when he reached 55 (and even before). He turned 64 this summer. He had outlived his paternal male relatives. He was on borrowed time and wanted to live life to the fullest. Forget to take the routine medication and injections for his diabetes. Eat and live and be merry. Or just eat whatever you want, move from bed to kitchen to couch and succumb to the illness. My dad has too many ailments to list - from diabetes, COPD, heart failure (heart functions at 11% - bypass, stints, catherizations galore), high blood pressure, high cholesterol, etc.
My dad remarried in 1999. I was invited to his wedding, but not included in a father-daughter dance. His wife and I have always had issues (she is a "welfare" recipient - never maintaining a job much longer than 6 months, feeling entitled for everyone to care for her, not being able to budget/finance/see reality but living in the moment of self-gratification). They have little relationship with my son. They rarely if ever call and never ask to speak with my son. Some years, when they have money for stamps - they may send a holiday gift or card. They don't call. We have visited them. The relationship is strained.
On Thanksgiving in 2008, I posted this. The relationship hasn't been the same. I stopped receiving her monthly calls that he was back in the ER and was dying. Sometimes I would get them, more often not. His wife would call my brother and then expect him to call or tell me (he has been "dying" and admitted to the hospital almost monthly for years). I had been deleted from her FB page. As hurt and upset as I was by everything, for my own sanity, I had to remove myself from the drama and the lies. I no longer received email updates and I would sometimes receive them third-handed from family members. My brother and I would share stories based on phone calls we each had had with my dad and/or his wife. My dad was always the most coherent when hospitalized and appropriately medicated. It was always the best time to talk to him. He almost seemed able to communicate and knew what he was saying.
This summer, I was informed that my dad needed a heart transplant (and had to get one before his 65th birthday, the deadline of transplants). Phone calls with his wife were always different. From them moving back to Michigan so she could live with her family while he recovered, to the following month having a transplant in Jacksonville Florida because her daughter got a job and was moving there from Michigan, to the next month when he was leaving Tampa after a doctor appointment to consider a transplant or VAD. I never heard where Tampa came into the picture. I still don't understand. Tampa is 4 hours from where they live. They have no friends or social support in Tampa or even in Florida (with the new exception of Jacksonville). My dad isn't healthy enough to drive himself and she can't legally drive. Why would she pick a hospital 4+ hours away? Why?
I supported her and her decision. I didn't understand it. Maybe she was ready for him to die. I can't be of any social support, neither can my brother - we live across the country. A week later, he was admitted into Tampa General for extensive testing to see if he was a candidate. After almost a week they couldn't get his sugar stabilized, and it was up in the 500 range. My aunt emailed me (and my brother) and said that she had seen him and she felt he was dying. If we wanted to see him alive, we needed to visit and do it soon. She had driven over from Texas to say her goodbye.
Of course I was recovering from my hammer to the face adventure. I hadn't heard anything from my dad or his wife. The email was news to me. I called my brother. He had heard from my dad's wife the night before that they also found a lump in his neck that they were biopsying (which was non-cancerous). We talked about the severity of the situation (having heard the Boy Who Cried Wolf so many times previously) and trying to understand. Having our Aunt there made the situation different - having a neutral non-threatening, non-manipulative voice to discuss his condition. I attempted to talk to hospital staff. Within 30 minutes of receiving the email, my brother and I had booked plane tickets and made arrangements and were going to be in Tampa that evening.
In the morning, we went to the hospital to visit our dad. He had no idea that we were coming. We spent two days at the hospital. We were part of a very difficult family meeting with the Social Worker and RN who informed us that because of lack of social support, transportation and financial issues - a transplant consideration was not possible. We accepted our fate. My brother gave my dad's wife his blessings to find housing in the retirement community they have moved from several times due to financial constraints. We broke the news to my dad that he was not a candidate for a heart transplant or a VAD. My brother and I had time with him, what we anticipated would be our last time with him. The IV he was on, was pumping his heart for him. Slowly, he was dying. His heart would cease. The good news, he was approved for Hospice with his IV and would be discharged later that week.
Without being at the hospital, I wouldn't have known what was going on (like the months my dad has lived without bathing because he battles depression and lack of motivation). His wife sent out mass emails while we were there - I had my aunt forward them. Her email after we returned home in summary was that the hospital and his children left him to die but that she is going to fight for her husband. He needs money and a transplant. Please send money or well wishes if you can't afford to send money. Of course I wasn't a recipient of those emails either.
I was lost. I felt paralyzed. I felt numb. I was there. I was in the hospital. What was going on? What were these emails that I purposely wasn't copied on (or emails for almost two years prior)? I'm a realist. I have become cynical. I'm not the only one. Is this her attempt to relieve guilt? To say she did everything? Or is this her way to raise money to fund her own hopes and dreams?
The next thing I know, Hospice is no longer coming daily, they come once a week and she has enlisted the assistance of a national transplant fund for fundraising. They have been denied a transplant in Jacksonville as well. The latest and last option, a transplant in Orlando. Orlando, 40 minutes from where they live. FORTY. MINUTES.
Sunday I spoke with my dad. He told me he has an appointment at the hospital in Orlando. He has no idea how long he will be there - if he will be admitted. Orlando has his file. He told me that they have received $2000 in donations but at $100 per transport (he's saying 4 a month AFTER the transplant) that the money will have little impact. This is their last chance at a hospital and transplant. Why wasn't Orlando their first option? Why was Tampa that was logistically impossible for them? During the conversation he told me that they were denied for mortgages in the retirement community (they would need two: one for an older trailer/home they will demolish and then one to build the new home on the property) - as he receives Social Security and she receives Disability. Why they need a new home, I don't understand. Why they can't live in the apartment you ask? Because she isn't a senior citizen and without his income of Social Security she couldn't live in the retirement community without his income. She needs to move in while he is alive. She has to. She refuses to talk to me. She hovers in the background on the phone and attempts to answer questions my dad is relaying because he doesn't know or care to know the answers. He does what he is told. He gets up when she tells him to and goes where he is taken.
Today in the mail, my son received a Christmas card. My son. Not my son and I. My son. I had had it. I called my dad again and asked what was going on. That I was hurt. That years ago when he said that I had to accept them as a package or not at all, that I did. That I have been respectful and civil and not received the same. That I am not notified of his health and happenings. That him calling back yesterday to ask for my email address that all of my email addresses have been the same for over seven years was ridiculous. He said he had no idea. He suggested I talk to her. After a good two minutes, she finally got on the phone. She was passive-aggressive.
I thanked her for my son's Christmas card. She told me my card would arrive in a few days. I then inquired that she had sent separate cards. She said she had - first time EVER. I then asked her why she wasn't copying me on emails and notifying me. She told me that she didn't have my email address. I told her that she did and they have been the same for seven years. She told me that I use my son as a pawn. I had no idea what she was talking about. She yelled that I don't allow him to talk to his grandparents. They have never called to talk to him and he has NEVER asked to call them. (They are not active grandparents and as close as he is to my mother - unless she calls him, he doesn't talk on the phone.) This woman then went on to say, "If you didn't know, your dad isn't well." I replied, "Oh really? I didn't know that. Maybe if you told me, I would know." She then started yelling more and I hung up on her.
I started to call my boyfriend back who had called during the conversation and I hung up after two rings. I sat in my basement stairwell and I sobbed. Sobbed uncontrollably. I cursed in my head. And when I collected myself, I dialed my mom. And when she got on the phone, I sobbed uncontrollably again and cursed. And while I sobbed and I cursed, his wife called me back. I let it go to voicemail.
This was the voicemail, "Hey X. Ok since you hung up on me. Uhhh...That's pretty mature. Umm...but besides the point. Do you have any idea what I'm going through? Do you have any idea? I hope you never ever have to find out because I know you don't care about your dad. You basically just kind of wrote him off. That's what you did. You came to Florida. It was a pity fuck trip. And you came there and you basically wrote him off. That's all you did. You never. You don't call your dad. You don't do anything for your dad. You don't even, you your, your mother. Or you could live here in Tallahassee and I'll guarantee that you would never see your dad. You wanna know why I don't keep you in the loop? Because frankly X, I'm sorry, Let me just let it all hang out BABY, don't stop calling your dad. I think you are a BITCH and so do a few other people I know. So whatever HONEY. Just a, your card is in the mail. You are going to get it. I didn't leave you out. I'm not that cruel. I'm not that big of a bitch. I'm really not. So ah you know. Go ahead and use T against us because I know you do. And ah whatever. Just keep in touch with your dad. Don't not keep in touch with him because of me but I know you've done that before, stupid things. He didn't spell your name right and you didn't talk to him for two years. That was kind of juvenile. But Ok, whatever."
My father is physically ill. He has been for a very long time. He doesn't call me. He doesn't call his grandson. He hasn't for over a decade. It's a fact of life. It just is. Many years ago, I accepted the fact that my dad is ill. That his life could have been different. It isn't. I don't want him to get a transplant. He doesn't deserve it. He gave up on his life over a decade, almost two ago. A heart is a sacred thing and should be given to someone that wants to live. Someone that deserves to live. As difficult as this is for me to acknowledge, my father is not that person. On a side note, less than four months ago my mother's sister was taken from this world due to cancer. Her husband has now been diagnosed with cancer. Tragic. They loved life and lived life. They deserve life. So many people do not and yet those are the ones that seem to feel entitled and receive the opportunities. Yes he is my father. Yes he was my dad. I am a taxpayer like you, I can see the big picture. Right or Wrong, I see it. I live it. I have accepted it.
Can I accept to move on? Can I accept that I may not be informed of his health? Can I accept that I may not be informed of his death?
I can only control what I can control and who I am. Sometimes the hardest thing to do...is to walk away. I've walked away before, but love and family and hope bring me back. I don't want to live in the negativity and the darkness and the lies. It is hard to turn your back on family...right now, I stand still and I wonder and I wait. Will fate decide for me?
When I was 19, I went to my aunt's house to celebrate Christmas. My dad stepped out of the room and came back with a check for me for Christmas. He spelled my name wrong. He was still hungover from the night before. He. Spelled. My. Name. Wrong. My dad also told me that as an adult I could choose to have a relationship with him and I knew where to find him.
When I was 22 years old, two years after graduating college, I found myself living with my boyfriend and pregnant. I was disappointed in myself. I was scared. I felt alone. I feared telling my parents, even though I graduated High School at 17 and other than the first summer after college, I never again lived with my parent(s). When I told my dad, he said, "I'm not surprised. What do you expect when you are shacking up with your boyfriend."
Maybe I should rewind...I've posted it before - the year of 1982. Sometimes, I think my mom makes excuses for my dad, his health and that he isn't the father and dad and man he once was. I want to believe that. I want to believe that. I try to keep low expectations to not be disappointed - but the truth is, I expect things from my dad, my father - in sickness - as I did in health. I was disappointed. I continue to be disappointed.
I believe my dad gave up on living when he reached 55 (and even before). He turned 64 this summer. He had outlived his paternal male relatives. He was on borrowed time and wanted to live life to the fullest. Forget to take the routine medication and injections for his diabetes. Eat and live and be merry. Or just eat whatever you want, move from bed to kitchen to couch and succumb to the illness. My dad has too many ailments to list - from diabetes, COPD, heart failure (heart functions at 11% - bypass, stints, catherizations galore), high blood pressure, high cholesterol, etc.
My dad remarried in 1999. I was invited to his wedding, but not included in a father-daughter dance. His wife and I have always had issues (she is a "welfare" recipient - never maintaining a job much longer than 6 months, feeling entitled for everyone to care for her, not being able to budget/finance/see reality but living in the moment of self-gratification). They have little relationship with my son. They rarely if ever call and never ask to speak with my son. Some years, when they have money for stamps - they may send a holiday gift or card. They don't call. We have visited them. The relationship is strained.
On Thanksgiving in 2008, I posted this. The relationship hasn't been the same. I stopped receiving her monthly calls that he was back in the ER and was dying. Sometimes I would get them, more often not. His wife would call my brother and then expect him to call or tell me (he has been "dying" and admitted to the hospital almost monthly for years). I had been deleted from her FB page. As hurt and upset as I was by everything, for my own sanity, I had to remove myself from the drama and the lies. I no longer received email updates and I would sometimes receive them third-handed from family members. My brother and I would share stories based on phone calls we each had had with my dad and/or his wife. My dad was always the most coherent when hospitalized and appropriately medicated. It was always the best time to talk to him. He almost seemed able to communicate and knew what he was saying.
This summer, I was informed that my dad needed a heart transplant (and had to get one before his 65th birthday, the deadline of transplants). Phone calls with his wife were always different. From them moving back to Michigan so she could live with her family while he recovered, to the following month having a transplant in Jacksonville Florida because her daughter got a job and was moving there from Michigan, to the next month when he was leaving Tampa after a doctor appointment to consider a transplant or VAD. I never heard where Tampa came into the picture. I still don't understand. Tampa is 4 hours from where they live. They have no friends or social support in Tampa or even in Florida (with the new exception of Jacksonville). My dad isn't healthy enough to drive himself and she can't legally drive. Why would she pick a hospital 4+ hours away? Why?
I supported her and her decision. I didn't understand it. Maybe she was ready for him to die. I can't be of any social support, neither can my brother - we live across the country. A week later, he was admitted into Tampa General for extensive testing to see if he was a candidate. After almost a week they couldn't get his sugar stabilized, and it was up in the 500 range. My aunt emailed me (and my brother) and said that she had seen him and she felt he was dying. If we wanted to see him alive, we needed to visit and do it soon. She had driven over from Texas to say her goodbye.
Of course I was recovering from my hammer to the face adventure. I hadn't heard anything from my dad or his wife. The email was news to me. I called my brother. He had heard from my dad's wife the night before that they also found a lump in his neck that they were biopsying (which was non-cancerous). We talked about the severity of the situation (having heard the Boy Who Cried Wolf so many times previously) and trying to understand. Having our Aunt there made the situation different - having a neutral non-threatening, non-manipulative voice to discuss his condition. I attempted to talk to hospital staff. Within 30 minutes of receiving the email, my brother and I had booked plane tickets and made arrangements and were going to be in Tampa that evening.
In the morning, we went to the hospital to visit our dad. He had no idea that we were coming. We spent two days at the hospital. We were part of a very difficult family meeting with the Social Worker and RN who informed us that because of lack of social support, transportation and financial issues - a transplant consideration was not possible. We accepted our fate. My brother gave my dad's wife his blessings to find housing in the retirement community they have moved from several times due to financial constraints. We broke the news to my dad that he was not a candidate for a heart transplant or a VAD. My brother and I had time with him, what we anticipated would be our last time with him. The IV he was on, was pumping his heart for him. Slowly, he was dying. His heart would cease. The good news, he was approved for Hospice with his IV and would be discharged later that week.
Without being at the hospital, I wouldn't have known what was going on (like the months my dad has lived without bathing because he battles depression and lack of motivation). His wife sent out mass emails while we were there - I had my aunt forward them. Her email after we returned home in summary was that the hospital and his children left him to die but that she is going to fight for her husband. He needs money and a transplant. Please send money or well wishes if you can't afford to send money. Of course I wasn't a recipient of those emails either.
I was lost. I felt paralyzed. I felt numb. I was there. I was in the hospital. What was going on? What were these emails that I purposely wasn't copied on (or emails for almost two years prior)? I'm a realist. I have become cynical. I'm not the only one. Is this her attempt to relieve guilt? To say she did everything? Or is this her way to raise money to fund her own hopes and dreams?
The next thing I know, Hospice is no longer coming daily, they come once a week and she has enlisted the assistance of a national transplant fund for fundraising. They have been denied a transplant in Jacksonville as well. The latest and last option, a transplant in Orlando. Orlando, 40 minutes from where they live. FORTY. MINUTES.
Sunday I spoke with my dad. He told me he has an appointment at the hospital in Orlando. He has no idea how long he will be there - if he will be admitted. Orlando has his file. He told me that they have received $2000 in donations but at $100 per transport (he's saying 4 a month AFTER the transplant) that the money will have little impact. This is their last chance at a hospital and transplant. Why wasn't Orlando their first option? Why was Tampa that was logistically impossible for them? During the conversation he told me that they were denied for mortgages in the retirement community (they would need two: one for an older trailer/home they will demolish and then one to build the new home on the property) - as he receives Social Security and she receives Disability. Why they need a new home, I don't understand. Why they can't live in the apartment you ask? Because she isn't a senior citizen and without his income of Social Security she couldn't live in the retirement community without his income. She needs to move in while he is alive. She has to. She refuses to talk to me. She hovers in the background on the phone and attempts to answer questions my dad is relaying because he doesn't know or care to know the answers. He does what he is told. He gets up when she tells him to and goes where he is taken.
Today in the mail, my son received a Christmas card. My son. Not my son and I. My son. I had had it. I called my dad again and asked what was going on. That I was hurt. That years ago when he said that I had to accept them as a package or not at all, that I did. That I have been respectful and civil and not received the same. That I am not notified of his health and happenings. That him calling back yesterday to ask for my email address that all of my email addresses have been the same for over seven years was ridiculous. He said he had no idea. He suggested I talk to her. After a good two minutes, she finally got on the phone. She was passive-aggressive.
I thanked her for my son's Christmas card. She told me my card would arrive in a few days. I then inquired that she had sent separate cards. She said she had - first time EVER. I then asked her why she wasn't copying me on emails and notifying me. She told me that she didn't have my email address. I told her that she did and they have been the same for seven years. She told me that I use my son as a pawn. I had no idea what she was talking about. She yelled that I don't allow him to talk to his grandparents. They have never called to talk to him and he has NEVER asked to call them. (They are not active grandparents and as close as he is to my mother - unless she calls him, he doesn't talk on the phone.) This woman then went on to say, "If you didn't know, your dad isn't well." I replied, "Oh really? I didn't know that. Maybe if you told me, I would know." She then started yelling more and I hung up on her.
I started to call my boyfriend back who had called during the conversation and I hung up after two rings. I sat in my basement stairwell and I sobbed. Sobbed uncontrollably. I cursed in my head. And when I collected myself, I dialed my mom. And when she got on the phone, I sobbed uncontrollably again and cursed. And while I sobbed and I cursed, his wife called me back. I let it go to voicemail.
This was the voicemail, "Hey X. Ok since you hung up on me. Uhhh...That's pretty mature. Umm...but besides the point. Do you have any idea what I'm going through? Do you have any idea? I hope you never ever have to find out because I know you don't care about your dad. You basically just kind of wrote him off. That's what you did. You came to Florida. It was a pity fuck trip. And you came there and you basically wrote him off. That's all you did. You never. You don't call your dad. You don't do anything for your dad. You don't even, you your, your mother. Or you could live here in Tallahassee and I'll guarantee that you would never see your dad. You wanna know why I don't keep you in the loop? Because frankly X, I'm sorry, Let me just let it all hang out BABY, don't stop calling your dad. I think you are a BITCH and so do a few other people I know. So whatever HONEY. Just a, your card is in the mail. You are going to get it. I didn't leave you out. I'm not that cruel. I'm not that big of a bitch. I'm really not. So ah you know. Go ahead and use T against us because I know you do. And ah whatever. Just keep in touch with your dad. Don't not keep in touch with him because of me but I know you've done that before, stupid things. He didn't spell your name right and you didn't talk to him for two years. That was kind of juvenile. But Ok, whatever."
My father is physically ill. He has been for a very long time. He doesn't call me. He doesn't call his grandson. He hasn't for over a decade. It's a fact of life. It just is. Many years ago, I accepted the fact that my dad is ill. That his life could have been different. It isn't. I don't want him to get a transplant. He doesn't deserve it. He gave up on his life over a decade, almost two ago. A heart is a sacred thing and should be given to someone that wants to live. Someone that deserves to live. As difficult as this is for me to acknowledge, my father is not that person. On a side note, less than four months ago my mother's sister was taken from this world due to cancer. Her husband has now been diagnosed with cancer. Tragic. They loved life and lived life. They deserve life. So many people do not and yet those are the ones that seem to feel entitled and receive the opportunities. Yes he is my father. Yes he was my dad. I am a taxpayer like you, I can see the big picture. Right or Wrong, I see it. I live it. I have accepted it.
Can I accept to move on? Can I accept that I may not be informed of his health? Can I accept that I may not be informed of his death?
I can only control what I can control and who I am. Sometimes the hardest thing to do...is to walk away. I've walked away before, but love and family and hope bring me back. I don't want to live in the negativity and the darkness and the lies. It is hard to turn your back on family...right now, I stand still and I wonder and I wait. Will fate decide for me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)