Drama on the high swamps

Oy, the drama. The situtuation with my grandmother has become quite the drama scene. My grandmother had the tumor removed on Monday and my mom flew into Louisiana to take care of her. The plan was that my parents were taking a three week trip at the end of May to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary and on the way back, would pick up my grandmother and then she would have the radiation in California. Except the drama over the missing money, the in-fighting and a host of other issues have come up. My siblings, who never get involved, are up in arms. It’s reduced my 35 year old sister to calling our cousins fatties. It’s ugly.

So I called to check on Grandma this morning and my mom amswers and she was crying so hard, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. My heart dropped and I thought she died. But then I was able to discern “Grandma’s been crying all morning” and was greatly relieved. Whew. Apparently the aunt who drained the bank account did not like being challenged, came over and starting screaming at my mom and Grandma, then threw the checkbook and credit cards at them, said she was done taking care of my Grandma and stomped out. So my mom bought a plane ticket and is taking her back to California tomorrow. Which makes me kinda excited, because I know how bad they want to go on this Florida trip. So guess what the choices are? Bring her to me or bring her to me OR bring her to me. YIPPEEEEEEE!!!!! It’s all about me, right? I’m trying not to get all sucked into the drama, but it’s hard not to get a little shit on your shoes when it hits the fan. I’m going to go change into my party shoes.

 

The Gloom and Doom sisters strike again.

My cousin calls my mom and one of my aunts Gloom and Doom. They thrive on adversity. They like to revel in the misery, the negatives, the bad chi. When my mom told me of my grandmother’s breast cancer, she left out some pretty important details. Like the fact that the doctor said “THIS IS TOTALLY CURABLE.” Argg! I was freaking out and she fails to mention that it’s the slowest growing kind and the tumor is small and unless some freak thing occurs she’s going to be completely fine. And it’s not that my mom is ignorant. She’s a dietician that has worked on a breast cancer study for the last eight years. SHE KNOWS all the statistics and the information like a freakin’ encyclopedia.

I called my grandmother last night and talked to her and one of my aunts for two hours. It turns out that yet another aunt has been doing a little financial hanky panky and has drained my grandmother’s bank accounts. She only has enough money left to pay 2.5 more house payments. My aunt charges her to drive her anywhere, cook her dinner or whatever task she performs for her. She’s gone through more money in a month than my grandmother usually spends in a year. There’s also about $8,000 that is missing and unaccounted for. My aunt “borrowed” $14,000. Yikes, huh?

My grandmother has spent her entire 88 years in small Louisiana towns. Since I’ve moved here I’ve tried to talk her into coming out here for a visit. Every time she says something along the lines of: it’s too far away from Louisiana and kinda scary for her. Last night when I called her I not only offered to come get her for a visit but I said she could move in with me and I would take care of her FREE OF CHARGE. I didn’t realize that my grandmother was extremely worried about her future and I would be providing her, at the very least, with the knowledge that she would be taken of, no matter what was in her bank account. And instead of her usual ideas about why she couldn’t come out here, she started asking me about the weather and what it was like here. My heart soared. Although I doubt the rest of the family would let her come live with me, she sounded open to the idea. And I almost cried when she told me that she would be able to sleep tonight because she knew someone could and would take care of her. She tried to say that I wouldn’t be able to take care of her with trying to raise the boys, but after I explained that we had been preparing for Pop to come before he died, she realized that I had thought it through and knew what I was getting into. Again, I doubt that her children, probably especially my mother, would let her come live with me, but at least I know now that Grandma can stop worrying about financial stuff and start focusing her energy on getting better. I’m so relieved and I think she it too. And I was worried how I was going to get to Louisiana in the next few weeks with the kids, since they’ve missed so much school already. I think I can wait until summer and then go spend a couple of weeks with her.

So big sigh of relief. Steve has forbidden me to speak to Doom again about this subject. He also says I should go back to screening my calls. lol.

 

Karma has painted a giant bullseye on my back!

You know what? I’m pissed off. That’s right, I’m really ticked. I ask the universe and I ask God “Haven’t I had ENOUGH lately?” And the answer is a resounding no. That’s right, NO, people.

I’ve mentioned before that my youngest son has reflux. He’s had it since birth. The whole reflux thing was God’s sense of humor because before son #2 came along, I couldn’t do vomit. So for 6 years, I’ve had trial by vomit. 2, 3, 4 am, in a completely RANDOM pattern, my son will wake up and vomit. I go from sleeping to vomit. And after 6 years, I take it in stride. Like at 4 am a few days ago. Son #2 just vomits while he’s sleeping. I get up, I change sheets, I go back to bed. This is my life.

Our pediatrician in California was always very laid back about the reflux. Son #2 has been on medication for it since he was 2 weeks old and that’s just the way life is. But when we moved here when he was 4, the new pediatrician wasn’t so comfortable with the reflux. Right away he sent me to a gastroenterologist for son #2 to be evaluated. Of course the first thing that the gastroenterologist wants to do is a whole bunch of tests, including one where they put him under anesthesia. This was on the heels of a seizure son #2 had just had. He had spent 3 days in the hospital and thought everyone in medicine was put on this planet to hurt him. He would start to cry before we even walked into a doctor’s office. So I refused the testing. The gastroenterologist said “You’ll be back.”

My pediatrician kept asking me to get the upper GI series (test without anesthesia) done and I kept putting it off. Finally in December, when we were back in California, and son #2 had an ear infection and I had the opportunity to ask my old pediatrician about it. He said “It’s time, Helen.” So today I took son #2 for the upper GI series so they could rule out the possiblity of a hiatal hernia. They found no hernia. But the test showed he was refluxing (duhhhh). So they said that they needed to find the cause and my doctor would probably order the endoscopy (the test with anesthesia that I’ve been fighting against.) So I’m upset. There’s a genetic condition that runs in my family that is hereditary that is a fatal reaction to anethesia. Two of my first cousins have it. It’s called malignant hypothermia. The body’s temperature shoots up to 107 or 108 degrees and even with the patient packed in ice, they often die. This can be avoided if the right drugs are used, but it’s a risk I haven’t been willing to take. I’m pissed.

I called my mom to tell her and a big silence stretches out and she says “I’ve got more bad news.” And I already know what it is before she says it, but I wish for that instant to stretch out into eternity. That time before I know and life seems less scary. But she only lets another heartbeat pass before she says it anyway. “Grandma has breast cancer.” And the only thing I want to do is rage and scream at the entire universe for this injustice.

My grandmother is my rock. She is the only grandparent I have left. She is the one “safe” relative I’ve had my whole life. The one person related to me that I know I can trust, that I know loves me unconditionally, and the good memories I have of childhood and even adulthood, center around her. Her faith in God is what keeps me from losing mine. Because even if I lose my way with God, she’s there to put me back on the path. She is my connection to religion. She is my lifeline. And I can’t lose her. I’m not ready to lose her. Alzheimers may be robbing her of memories, but she still knows my voice and remembers she loves me. When I say “Pray for me, Grandma” I know it will go from my lips to God’s ears.

So I am angry today. Why me? What did I ever do to deserve all this? Why has Karma painted some big ass, giant bullseye on MY back? I must have been a serial killer in a former life. It’s the only explanation. And I’m pissed. Because if I don’t stay angry, this might break me……

 

I’m old, I’m vacuuming and headed to the Big Easy….

It’s been an eventful few days around here. First thing you should know is that I’m multitasking. I’m vacuuming while I type. Ok, the ROBOT is vacuuming while I type, but the floor is being vacuumed while I type. The problem is that I keep having to yell at the kids to stay away from the robot. They’re just fascinated and won’t leave the damn thing alone. Steve is all into it because being the nerd that he is, he found out that he can write software to make it do stuff. When I asked “Like what?” In his most geeky manner he says “ANYTHING!” Yeah, that explains it, Steve. Glad you didn’t get all technical on me. Program it to pick up the crap you and the kids leave all over the house and I might be able to get as excited about this as you. Or teach it to take out the flippin’ trash. Or feed the crazy dog. Otherwise, I can’t get excited about playing Tertris on the vacuum, dear.

You can now call me Sacagawea. Some large beast has been getting into the metal garbage can we keep dog food in and turning it over every night. Today I found tracks in the snow. And being Sacagawea, the great tracker, there are thigns I can tell you for certain about those tracks: I can tell you that it’s one big mofo that keeps knocking over the trash. Seriously. My dogs weigh around 90 pounds. This animal’s tracks weren’t that much smaller. I’m guessing this animal weighs between 40 and 50 pounds. Steve thinks it’s a raccoon. I fear meeting a raccoon big enough to make tracks like that. But it rules out the coyotes we suspected. Unless they’re very weird looking coyotes. That dance around on dainty, sissy feet.

Which brings me to the next issue- Snow. WOO HOOO! And how! About 4 inches fell in just a few hours last night. I. love. it. here!!!! California take your ONE season of the year and shove it! Give me snow and four seasons ANY DAY! There is something so soul satisfying about watching the snow fall and turning everything into a winter wonderland. The silence that seems to settle with the snow…it’s just hard for me to describe. I feel the same way when I’m scuba diving and 100 feet below the surface. Life just seems so serene, so pure, so simple. Of course, Steve didn’t get home until nearly midnight last night because the traffic was so bad with people abandoning their cars and roads closed and such. The kids are out of school until Tuesday. We started to build a snowman on the front lawn today, we’ll have to finish tomorrow. I slipped on some ice and feel like I was in a car accident. My back, neck, shoulder and knee are killing me. But we had a good snowball fight anyway. I’m too old to fall like that any more.

Speaking of old, I know I’ve been making jokes about the hot flashes I’ve been getting, but I received a call from the doctor last night telling me that blood tests confirm that I am in peri-menopause. Except I’ve got several years before I even hit 40. So when you’re as young as I am, it’s called premature ovarian failure. Don’t worry, I’m not all depressed about it. We are done having kids. It’s just a little shocking. And now Steve won’t stop with the old jokes. Sigh.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned that my sister in getting married next month in New Orleans. I’ve been on the fence about going to the wedding, for various reasons, and before I sound cold-hearted, let me clarify that my sister lives in Manhattan Beach, California, not in New Orleans. Anyway, she chose not to invite a large part of the family (ALL our family is there except my parents and siblings) and it was going to be thousands of dollars for us to go in for the weekend. In the end, I decided to stick it out and buy the tickets and go. Yesterday I found out that my favorite cousins WERE invited and at least ONE of them is going. So now I am really looking forward to going although it means MORE travel (and more comedy for you). I have to fly in alone with the boys (EIGHT HOURS ON THE PLANE!) because Steve can’t leave work until 2 days later. THIS is love. Sigh.

The last piece of news is a little scary, my mom had a 2.5″ section of her scalp removed and it turned out it was skin cancer. Allegedly they got it all, but still….not what I needed to hear on the heels of Pop’s death. Steve and I have both been dreaming about him every night. The movers picked up the stuff of his that we wanted yesterday and should arrive with it some time next week. I took all of Pop’s garden things like his fountains and statues, I only wish he could have been here to help me set it all up. He loved our yard and this house and I feel like I can bring at least a little of him here with us. Pop and I used to garden a lot so it seems fitting that his garden stuff comes here.

So that’s been the last couple of days.  There’s inner chi to be found in the snow. I’m wearing better snow shoes tomorrow! And anyone making old jokes DIES.

 

No rest for the weary

I want to thank you all for all your kind words and I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to answer your comments individually. We were doing fairly well considering all, in the first few days but yesterday Steve and I settled into a fog. The viewing is today, with the funeral tomorrow. 

I know the full brunt of grief will hit me today at the viewing. And we’ve taken care of almost everything so we’re no longer distracted with details. The strain of living on coffee and pills is starting to take it’s toll. Now we’re starting to speak non-sensically. The other day, I went to put chapstick on my lips only to discover as I put it to my lips that it was a glue stick. Yesterday I was trying to put zit medicine on a pimple and my son walked in as I was doing it and said “Mom why are you rubbing toothpaste on yourself?” And I looked down in horror to realize I was indeed rubbing toothpaste on myself. My face broke out not only in pimples, but I am also sporting a very nice cold sore to boot.

So I just wanted to let everyone know I’m alive, although precariously so if I keep trying to glue my lips shut and slather toothpaste on myself. Thank you all for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers.

 

Near the end….

Hospice just informed my MIL that Pop is in the first stages of passing. It’s a problem because there are no flights, no trains, nothing available to get back to the Bay Area this close to Christmas. We could drive, but the pass in Oregon may or may not be open. Not sure what we’re going to do. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. If you’re the praying type, say a prayer for him……

 

I have re- located my inner chi

My inner chi has been missing for about a month. I recovered it at the gym today. Apparently, that’s where I left it. I worked out until I turned every muscle in my body to jello. When I finished the last crunch, I stared up at the ceiling from the floor and let the endorphins course through me like I had taken a boatload of narcotics. And there, right there on the floor, I realized where my inner chi had been all along.

It has been an emotionally draining few days. Well, first there was the storm, adding a little stress, then when we got to California, we discovered that Pop’s health has declined significantly just since we were there 2.5 weeks ago. The cancer is taking it’s toll. It is hard to watch cancer rob him of his vitality and strength. Pop’s always been so active and strong and now he’s…well, frail. It’s a terrifying thing to realize that even your heroes are only mortal.

On son #2’s birthday Pop got really sick and was in severe pain. I gave him 13 doses of Morphine, 4 Vicodin and 3 Ativan and it didn’t even make a dent in his pain. That was enough narcotics to put down 3 elephants. And he has a HUGE pain threshold. I’ve never felt so helpless in all my life just sitting there watching him suffer. I was terrified that I was going to kill him with the massive doses of Morphine I was giving him, but I was following the hospice nurse’s orders to the letter.

If you smoke, I implore to visit with someone dying of lung cancer. I promise you will never smoke again. It is a painful, agonizing and slow death. It is probably one of the worst deaths you can imagine. I have tried to make it very clear to my children that these are the consequences of smoking and I hope it will prevent them from ever even taking a drag off a cigarette.

In other news, you’ll all be amused to know that I ran to the grocery store during the trip and I actually got CARDED! I was pulling stuff out of my basket when the guy said something I didn’t hear. I said “What?” He said louder “May I see your ID?” and I just stood there and waited for him to laugh. When he didn’t I said “Are you serious?” and he got all upset like I was trying to B.S. my way into buying some beer because I was 14. I almost said “Duuuudddddeeeeeee” but handed him my ID at which time he tried to recover from looking shocked. I said “Thanks. I haven’t been carded in at least 10 years.” lol.

I’m glad I found my chi again. I was feeling so edgy and tense. I’m hoping to stay relaxed through the rest of the holidays this year. I may end up having to hit the gym twice a day to make it through, but I’m determined to keep my exercise induced high intact. Get high everyone, go exercise. lol.

To see pictures of the huge Pacific Northwest wind storm visit my Flickr page.