So last night I was watching my father who just got out of the hospital, was frail and weak and too sick to eat. It was New Year's Eve, I had run out of hope, run out of ways to cope so I said, what the hell, I will start up a blog. I never blogged before in my life. Truth be told, I never even read anyone else's blog so what the hell was I doing starting one of my own?
After I started, I read a few others I encountered and take it they are all centered around a theme of sorts or are about a certain topic at the very least. I have no idea where my blogging will lead or if anyone will even read it other than myself. Does anyone really care, and if a person decided to follow a blog, it is most likely because it is a topic of interest or about a recent concern to them. Me, I am all over the place- writing free form about anything that comes to mind- any topic, any thought, any emotion, any form of gibberish. So who wants to read that? Probably no one, but I did it anyway. My first blog entry was a mess. I just wanted to get it up before the New Year started. Didn't really take the time I normally would to proof or edit it, but what is done is done.
So today I wake up rethinking my focus, rethinking my title, rethinking the entire idea if I am being honest. I also take it blogs are supposed to be simple and short. I did the Facebook thing for a while, but probably shared more information than I should have and always got pissed off when my comments where cut off or too long and I had to chop the hell out of them. Someone suggested a blog. My friend was thinking of doing one as her New Year's resolution. Another friend of mine said he likes my writing and suggested I blog because Facebook is too limited. How do I blog? What is a blog? How do I even get started? Will people follow it? How will they find it? Do I even really want them to read it?
And then it happened, I got an e-mail from my uncle who started a blog on religion. My father is going through his health crisis and seems to be finding religion along the way. I think the e-mail was intended for my mother but he sent it off to me by mistake, or was it? Was it a mistake or divine intervention? I had been thinking of writing again, planning to look into blogging, but with my father in and out of the hospital 4 times in December, I never even got the opportunity to do the research that I normally do before I enter into anything new. So when my uncle sent off that e-mail with his blog by mistake (or divine intervention), I noticed a link about starting your own blog......and her I am, blogging for the 2nd time.
His blog is focused on religion, others I found are the journey of a sick child or a family member's battle with a disease. And then there is mine- a mess, completely unfocused and without a topic. I could rein it in from the very beginning and redo the title. I could shift focuses and stick to one topic, but fuck it- this is my blog and I am doing it my way. If people stumble upon it and hate it or the topics are not of interest to them, then they can move along, but there are so many people in this world that have a voyeuristic streak in them so the opportunity to know intricate details of someone else's life may just appeal to people.
Right now my father is going through a health crisis so much of what is contained in my blog will be focused on his struggle with life and death and the stress it puts on me and the rest of the family as caretakers. But I am also unemployed so there will be days when my blogs will talk about my quest and frustrations finding decent employment opportunities. And then there is the fact I am going through a divorce. Right now I am legally separated, my "ex" for lack of a better term, moved to Florida, but still does not get it. He is carrying my health insurance for the time being, but blackmails me with it every chance he gets. He also is in denial that after years of torment and a year of counseling, there is no way possible of us reconciling our differences. After what he put me through and given what I am going through right now, he is the last person I want to deal with, but I'm sure there will be days when you I write about divorce, the bitter emotions and broken dreams that go along with it. From time to time he gives me hell, causes me great stress and I go from being the better person and letting it go, to wanting to send a hit man after him. Like I said, if it happens to me, you will hear about it at some point. And of course, as April 27th draws near- the one year anniversary of signing the separation agreement and the point at which I will be contacting the lawyer to finalize the divorce, you will be learning of how the divorce is progressing. I am just hoping that at that point my "ex" realizes there is no hope and does not give me hell. If so, I have a back up plan. I hear that there is some loophole in the system and I can go down to the Dominican Republic and come back divorced the same day- he doesn't even have to be there. So if he stresses me out, worst case scenario, I will take a much needed mini-vacation, get some sun and come back a completely free woman.
At the current moment, I have too much on my plate to even think about dating and men, but in time, I hope to find love and companionship. I tried the dating world for a while and it is a scary, scary world. I seem to attract weird people- married men, men old enough to be my father, men with kids that I would be putting through college in a year should I stay with them and then there are the ones that drink too much, have drug issues or are not mentally stable. So from time to time should men of interest enter my life or I feel the time is right to seek them out, you will hear me talk about my struggles getting back into the dating world after spending 17 years with the same man. (For the record, I am 33- married my high school sweetheart and thought after all that time, I knew him, but boy was I wrong.)
And then there is the fact that all my belongings, half of what I have worked for in life lie in an unclimate controlled storage unit that apparently had bugs in it the last time I needed to retrieve something. And in case you are wondering, I say half of my belongings because I had to basically give my stuff away and buy off my "ex" to get away from him and gain my sanity. Oh yes- my sanity as he became stalker like, started sending threatening messages to me and the family and I was in the process of looking into an order of protection when he up and left for Florida because he couldn't hack it in the real world and without me paying for his every need. So now he lives in Florida with his parents, although he may have gotten his own place recently.
As is usually the case with my writing when I go free form, I tend to go off on tangents, but the point I originally started to make is that you will hear about my struggles adjusting to living in someone else's home and my quest for a new dwelling. This dwelling was supposed to be temporary, but as the unemployment continues and my father gets sicker and sicker, my temporary living situation is starting to look more and more permanent. So you will certainly hear me tell you what that is like. As a preview, I am neat and organized and my parents are messy, messy, messy and completely unorganized so right there is part of the problem.
As life changes, so may my viewpoints and my focus of this blog, but for now, what you see is what you get. Depending on what is going on in my life, the focus may be more heavily weighted in one topic over another, but such is life- constantly causing you to change your focus.
Having laid the groundwork of my blog and haven given you some brief background on my situation and what led up to the topics I will comment upon, let me say a few things before I call it a night.
First off, I was feeling oh so depressed today. For the first time in my entire life I spent New Years alone....literally. Not one person to wish a "happy" to. If 2010 is supposed to be my breakout year, surely that was not getting off on the right foot. Well every year I go to the cemetery to visit all my grandparents and great grandparents around the holidays. One year I brought them all beautiful poinsettias plans and as I was walking back to the car a huge gust of wind came and blew them away. Now I hope they don't think I am being cheap, but I get the plastic ones at the dollar store or craft store and at least I can stick them in the ground so I know they will stay a while.
Anyway, last Sunday was rather warm. My one day away from what I affectionately refer to as "Daddy Daycare" and I spent it going to the cemetery. Truth be told, I wanted to go. I visited my great grandparents who I was lucky enough to have gotten to know and then since they are around the corner (literally), I stopped to visit my "ex's" grandparents and aunt. Just because my "ex" was an ass, does not mean they were and they had always treated me well. Right now they are looking down upon their grandson and probably rolling over in their graves, but that is another story. Since my father's parents and my other set of grandparents are about an hour or so in the other direction, I decided to save that trip for another day.
Each year I go to the cemetery and tell them I love them and miss them and then pray for guidance, direction in life and put in my wish list of all the wonderful things I hope to happen for me in the upcoming year. Here we are on New Year's Day and I only did half of my cemetery run. Waking up feeling a bit depressed, hearing my father say he would only be having water today and nothing else in terms of nourishment and feeling uncertain of the year that is supposed to bring one good thing after the next for me, I had to finish my cemetery run and make my peace and pray for a good year and put in my wish list.
It was cold outside, the ground was covered in snow, but I did not care- something inside of me told me I had to go and if I waited too long, my year would get off to a bad start. The first stop was my father's parents and brother. My grandmother died when my father was 19 of the same liver issues that my father is now going through and my uncle died when I was 1 year old so I never really go to know him. My grandfather on the other hand lived with us. He died when I was in fifth grade and his was the first funeral I ever attended. He died on New Year's Day in 1987 and believe it or not, I remember the day vividly. Turns out today was the anniversary of his death. Never did I imagine I would be standing in front of the grave of my grandfather on the anniversary of his death, my first funeral, praying that the next funeral I attend not be my father's.
As I walked back to my car with a box of tissues in hand and frozen tears running down my face, I planned out my route to the next cemetery where I would visit my grandparents on my mother's side. They both knew me unlike my father's parents. I had always been closer to my great grandparents for some reason, but in the last year of her life, I got much closer and found a new appreciation for my grandmother. I am truly blessed to have had them in my life as they were all wonderful people and will always be cherished and remembered.
All that being said, the purpose of my visits to the cemetery where two, or threefold. One is selfish, to pray for a better life in the upcoming year- a great job, a wonderful new man, a peaceful divorce, perhaps something positive to come of this blog I have just started and maybe a new living arrangement. The second reason was to watch over my family who is going through a rough time right now. As the second cemetery stop involved my mother's parents, I asked that they watch over her and help her through the stressful days that lie ahead. She has family, but could use more friends and a better support system. I fluctuate between loving my mother and feeling sorry for her and understanding the tremendous stress she is under, to hating her for not dealing well which throws more burden on my shoulders and causes me to become overwhelmed. I have been trying to find her a good support group or a good counselor because I think she needs it, but with my father so sick and trying to make time for myself and getting my own affairs in order, I have not gotten around to being successful in that department. So I asked for my grandparents help in watching over my mother, helping her to have a better support system and to give her, as well as myself, many good things to look forward to this year. When times are rough, having good things, new experiences, friends and things to look forward to mixed in with the bad really can make all the difference. Take it from me- that is how I got through my separation. Some days whether you feel like it or not, you just have to push yourself, go out of your comfort zone and do whatever it is that you think will temporarily take your mind off your troubles. For me, 10 times out of 10, I was glad I pushed myself.
And lastly, I prayed for one of two things for my father. When it is your time, it is your time. I wish the choice was up to me, but it is not. I do believe that there is some higher power that makes that decision. I think that sometimes you are tested and given second or even third chances to see how you react and if you take advantage of them or take them for granted, but I do think there is a higher power that partly decided when it is your time and who gets more time. As my father is sick and I know not what his fate will be this year or next, I asked my grandparents to do anything in their power to help with that decision. I asked them to get word to the powers that be.
I prayed to all of my grandparents, and not just the ones that got visits today that some sort of medical miracle take place. Whatever that might entail- a new set of doctors that are more knowledgeable and have new or better treatment ideas. Perhaps the right combination of medication finally be found to stabilize my father - honestly, I don't know what kind of medical miracle I was asking for, but I was asking for it. My cousin has so graciously volunteered to be a live liver donor for my father, but with a recent diagnosis of stomach cancer on top of everything else, they will never transplant him until he is cancer free. Right now my father is too weak to go through any type of treatment for the cancer. In his condition, I fear that chemo will take him out in a matter of weeks. So perhaps this medical miracle that I ask for involves my father actually getting strong, eating more and getting some nourishment, drinking more to re-hydrate his body so that he can go through chemo and his body is strong enough to handle it. Then in the perfect world, my father beats the cancer, stays cancer free for a while and my cousin or another family member volunteers to give my father a portion of their liver and he gets the transplant and has many more years of life left in him. As I said, that would be in a perfect world. And in that perfect world, my father would be alive and well in September when my brother is to be married.
I guess that is why fairy tales are so great, they always have happy endings. But this is not a perfect world. As is, my father is weak, malnourished, dehydrated, they have not figured out the right combination of medications to manage his symptoms and he has good days and bad days mentally. They just switched his medication so we will see how it goes. I am just hoping it takes a while to build in the system before it reaches its maximum effect. But as this is not a fairytale and I can not write the happy ending I would like this chapter of my life (and my father's) to have, we have to sit back, do our best and let fate and the powers that be take charge.
Not knowing what my father's fate will be and should he not get that medical miracle I prayed and begged for, I asked for option B which I never in a million years thought I would be asking for. I prayed to all my grandparents and to God that should they decide it is my father's time, that they not make him suffer, that they not make the entire family suffer. If it is meant to be that these days are his last, let him go quickly and peacefully with as little pain and prolonged suffering as possible. Right now I watch day by day as my father gets sicker and weaker. My mother and I try all day to get him to eat and drink. We try and pack as much calorie content as possible into anything he will agree to eat in hopes we can fatten him up some and give him more strength. And then we walk away disappointed and discouraged as he takes only 3 or 4 bites and then refuses to have anything more. I lie awake at night sometimes listening for the sounds of him wondering the hall to ensure he does not fall down the stairs or fall as he is starting to get unsteady on his feet. Then, there are nights when he is up and down, vomiting all night long and no one sleeps. When he settles down some and tries to rest, I go to my bed, but sleep with one eye open and both ears open - but sleep is not really what I do. Mostly I cry, I pray, I wonder if he will make it through the night. I wonder if he will be here for my brother's wedding in September. I wonder if the next time he throws up he will rupture another vein in his neck and start throwing up blood as has happened in the past and I wonder if an ambulance will get him to the hospital in time before he bleeds out or if I will literally watch him die before my eyes. And many times I wonder why my father is so stubborn and refuses to go to the hospital. I understand that no one wants to be in the hospital, but does he realize what he is putting the family through, or does he simply not care?
I pray every night for that medical miracle but the reality is that my father is sick and I can tell he is not feeling well. Even on his best days, he pretends to feel well when he is not. He tries to give the impression to anyone that visits that he is hanging in there and doing OK, but I know it is all an act. When the day is done and the company and visitors have left, I see the real him- the sick him that is fighting to make it through the night. I see a man afraid to die, but too weak to try. I see a man afraid to eat too much in fear his small intestine will become blocked for the 4th time in a month, but a man who really needs to not have fear of eating or he will die of malnourishment before another intestinal blockage takes him. I see a man wanting to fight and do what he can to get to his son's wedding and I see the man that has been told over and over by doctor after doctor that he is sick and doing any medical intervention surgically will result in possible fatal consequences. And this man is no ordinary man, this man is my father and I watch as he suffers and struggles more and more each day.
So I went today to ask the last of my grandparents for good things to come in 2010 and I prayed for that medical miracle. Oh how I want my father to survive this horrible ordeal, but as his fate is not in my hands, I do not want to be selfish either. So I asked for what I never in a million years thought I would be asking for - an end to his suffering. Should his fate be that he is not supposed to fair as well as we all would like, I ask that whoever is in charge put an end to his suffering. Let his last days be peaceful and do not let his illness and suffering linger for months and months. And as I type this, I feel like a horrible daughter that I would even ask for such a thing, but just like the start of my blog, what is done is done and what is meant to be, is meant to be. The fate or both my father and my blog lie with something much higher than I have the power to control.
After I started, I read a few others I encountered and take it they are all centered around a theme of sorts or are about a certain topic at the very least. I have no idea where my blogging will lead or if anyone will even read it other than myself. Does anyone really care, and if a person decided to follow a blog, it is most likely because it is a topic of interest or about a recent concern to them. Me, I am all over the place- writing free form about anything that comes to mind- any topic, any thought, any emotion, any form of gibberish. So who wants to read that? Probably no one, but I did it anyway. My first blog entry was a mess. I just wanted to get it up before the New Year started. Didn't really take the time I normally would to proof or edit it, but what is done is done.
So today I wake up rethinking my focus, rethinking my title, rethinking the entire idea if I am being honest. I also take it blogs are supposed to be simple and short. I did the Facebook thing for a while, but probably shared more information than I should have and always got pissed off when my comments where cut off or too long and I had to chop the hell out of them. Someone suggested a blog. My friend was thinking of doing one as her New Year's resolution. Another friend of mine said he likes my writing and suggested I blog because Facebook is too limited. How do I blog? What is a blog? How do I even get started? Will people follow it? How will they find it? Do I even really want them to read it?
And then it happened, I got an e-mail from my uncle who started a blog on religion. My father is going through his health crisis and seems to be finding religion along the way. I think the e-mail was intended for my mother but he sent it off to me by mistake, or was it? Was it a mistake or divine intervention? I had been thinking of writing again, planning to look into blogging, but with my father in and out of the hospital 4 times in December, I never even got the opportunity to do the research that I normally do before I enter into anything new. So when my uncle sent off that e-mail with his blog by mistake (or divine intervention), I noticed a link about starting your own blog......and her I am, blogging for the 2nd time.
His blog is focused on religion, others I found are the journey of a sick child or a family member's battle with a disease. And then there is mine- a mess, completely unfocused and without a topic. I could rein it in from the very beginning and redo the title. I could shift focuses and stick to one topic, but fuck it- this is my blog and I am doing it my way. If people stumble upon it and hate it or the topics are not of interest to them, then they can move along, but there are so many people in this world that have a voyeuristic streak in them so the opportunity to know intricate details of someone else's life may just appeal to people.
Right now my father is going through a health crisis so much of what is contained in my blog will be focused on his struggle with life and death and the stress it puts on me and the rest of the family as caretakers. But I am also unemployed so there will be days when my blogs will talk about my quest and frustrations finding decent employment opportunities. And then there is the fact I am going through a divorce. Right now I am legally separated, my "ex" for lack of a better term, moved to Florida, but still does not get it. He is carrying my health insurance for the time being, but blackmails me with it every chance he gets. He also is in denial that after years of torment and a year of counseling, there is no way possible of us reconciling our differences. After what he put me through and given what I am going through right now, he is the last person I want to deal with, but I'm sure there will be days when you I write about divorce, the bitter emotions and broken dreams that go along with it. From time to time he gives me hell, causes me great stress and I go from being the better person and letting it go, to wanting to send a hit man after him. Like I said, if it happens to me, you will hear about it at some point. And of course, as April 27th draws near- the one year anniversary of signing the separation agreement and the point at which I will be contacting the lawyer to finalize the divorce, you will be learning of how the divorce is progressing. I am just hoping that at that point my "ex" realizes there is no hope and does not give me hell. If so, I have a back up plan. I hear that there is some loophole in the system and I can go down to the Dominican Republic and come back divorced the same day- he doesn't even have to be there. So if he stresses me out, worst case scenario, I will take a much needed mini-vacation, get some sun and come back a completely free woman.
At the current moment, I have too much on my plate to even think about dating and men, but in time, I hope to find love and companionship. I tried the dating world for a while and it is a scary, scary world. I seem to attract weird people- married men, men old enough to be my father, men with kids that I would be putting through college in a year should I stay with them and then there are the ones that drink too much, have drug issues or are not mentally stable. So from time to time should men of interest enter my life or I feel the time is right to seek them out, you will hear me talk about my struggles getting back into the dating world after spending 17 years with the same man. (For the record, I am 33- married my high school sweetheart and thought after all that time, I knew him, but boy was I wrong.)
And then there is the fact that all my belongings, half of what I have worked for in life lie in an unclimate controlled storage unit that apparently had bugs in it the last time I needed to retrieve something. And in case you are wondering, I say half of my belongings because I had to basically give my stuff away and buy off my "ex" to get away from him and gain my sanity. Oh yes- my sanity as he became stalker like, started sending threatening messages to me and the family and I was in the process of looking into an order of protection when he up and left for Florida because he couldn't hack it in the real world and without me paying for his every need. So now he lives in Florida with his parents, although he may have gotten his own place recently.
As is usually the case with my writing when I go free form, I tend to go off on tangents, but the point I originally started to make is that you will hear about my struggles adjusting to living in someone else's home and my quest for a new dwelling. This dwelling was supposed to be temporary, but as the unemployment continues and my father gets sicker and sicker, my temporary living situation is starting to look more and more permanent. So you will certainly hear me tell you what that is like. As a preview, I am neat and organized and my parents are messy, messy, messy and completely unorganized so right there is part of the problem.
As life changes, so may my viewpoints and my focus of this blog, but for now, what you see is what you get. Depending on what is going on in my life, the focus may be more heavily weighted in one topic over another, but such is life- constantly causing you to change your focus.
Having laid the groundwork of my blog and haven given you some brief background on my situation and what led up to the topics I will comment upon, let me say a few things before I call it a night.
First off, I was feeling oh so depressed today. For the first time in my entire life I spent New Years alone....literally. Not one person to wish a "happy" to. If 2010 is supposed to be my breakout year, surely that was not getting off on the right foot. Well every year I go to the cemetery to visit all my grandparents and great grandparents around the holidays. One year I brought them all beautiful poinsettias plans and as I was walking back to the car a huge gust of wind came and blew them away. Now I hope they don't think I am being cheap, but I get the plastic ones at the dollar store or craft store and at least I can stick them in the ground so I know they will stay a while.
Anyway, last Sunday was rather warm. My one day away from what I affectionately refer to as "Daddy Daycare" and I spent it going to the cemetery. Truth be told, I wanted to go. I visited my great grandparents who I was lucky enough to have gotten to know and then since they are around the corner (literally), I stopped to visit my "ex's" grandparents and aunt. Just because my "ex" was an ass, does not mean they were and they had always treated me well. Right now they are looking down upon their grandson and probably rolling over in their graves, but that is another story. Since my father's parents and my other set of grandparents are about an hour or so in the other direction, I decided to save that trip for another day.
Each year I go to the cemetery and tell them I love them and miss them and then pray for guidance, direction in life and put in my wish list of all the wonderful things I hope to happen for me in the upcoming year. Here we are on New Year's Day and I only did half of my cemetery run. Waking up feeling a bit depressed, hearing my father say he would only be having water today and nothing else in terms of nourishment and feeling uncertain of the year that is supposed to bring one good thing after the next for me, I had to finish my cemetery run and make my peace and pray for a good year and put in my wish list.
It was cold outside, the ground was covered in snow, but I did not care- something inside of me told me I had to go and if I waited too long, my year would get off to a bad start. The first stop was my father's parents and brother. My grandmother died when my father was 19 of the same liver issues that my father is now going through and my uncle died when I was 1 year old so I never really go to know him. My grandfather on the other hand lived with us. He died when I was in fifth grade and his was the first funeral I ever attended. He died on New Year's Day in 1987 and believe it or not, I remember the day vividly. Turns out today was the anniversary of his death. Never did I imagine I would be standing in front of the grave of my grandfather on the anniversary of his death, my first funeral, praying that the next funeral I attend not be my father's.
As I walked back to my car with a box of tissues in hand and frozen tears running down my face, I planned out my route to the next cemetery where I would visit my grandparents on my mother's side. They both knew me unlike my father's parents. I had always been closer to my great grandparents for some reason, but in the last year of her life, I got much closer and found a new appreciation for my grandmother. I am truly blessed to have had them in my life as they were all wonderful people and will always be cherished and remembered.
All that being said, the purpose of my visits to the cemetery where two, or threefold. One is selfish, to pray for a better life in the upcoming year- a great job, a wonderful new man, a peaceful divorce, perhaps something positive to come of this blog I have just started and maybe a new living arrangement. The second reason was to watch over my family who is going through a rough time right now. As the second cemetery stop involved my mother's parents, I asked that they watch over her and help her through the stressful days that lie ahead. She has family, but could use more friends and a better support system. I fluctuate between loving my mother and feeling sorry for her and understanding the tremendous stress she is under, to hating her for not dealing well which throws more burden on my shoulders and causes me to become overwhelmed. I have been trying to find her a good support group or a good counselor because I think she needs it, but with my father so sick and trying to make time for myself and getting my own affairs in order, I have not gotten around to being successful in that department. So I asked for my grandparents help in watching over my mother, helping her to have a better support system and to give her, as well as myself, many good things to look forward to this year. When times are rough, having good things, new experiences, friends and things to look forward to mixed in with the bad really can make all the difference. Take it from me- that is how I got through my separation. Some days whether you feel like it or not, you just have to push yourself, go out of your comfort zone and do whatever it is that you think will temporarily take your mind off your troubles. For me, 10 times out of 10, I was glad I pushed myself.
And lastly, I prayed for one of two things for my father. When it is your time, it is your time. I wish the choice was up to me, but it is not. I do believe that there is some higher power that makes that decision. I think that sometimes you are tested and given second or even third chances to see how you react and if you take advantage of them or take them for granted, but I do think there is a higher power that partly decided when it is your time and who gets more time. As my father is sick and I know not what his fate will be this year or next, I asked my grandparents to do anything in their power to help with that decision. I asked them to get word to the powers that be.
I prayed to all of my grandparents, and not just the ones that got visits today that some sort of medical miracle take place. Whatever that might entail- a new set of doctors that are more knowledgeable and have new or better treatment ideas. Perhaps the right combination of medication finally be found to stabilize my father - honestly, I don't know what kind of medical miracle I was asking for, but I was asking for it. My cousin has so graciously volunteered to be a live liver donor for my father, but with a recent diagnosis of stomach cancer on top of everything else, they will never transplant him until he is cancer free. Right now my father is too weak to go through any type of treatment for the cancer. In his condition, I fear that chemo will take him out in a matter of weeks. So perhaps this medical miracle that I ask for involves my father actually getting strong, eating more and getting some nourishment, drinking more to re-hydrate his body so that he can go through chemo and his body is strong enough to handle it. Then in the perfect world, my father beats the cancer, stays cancer free for a while and my cousin or another family member volunteers to give my father a portion of their liver and he gets the transplant and has many more years of life left in him. As I said, that would be in a perfect world. And in that perfect world, my father would be alive and well in September when my brother is to be married.
I guess that is why fairy tales are so great, they always have happy endings. But this is not a perfect world. As is, my father is weak, malnourished, dehydrated, they have not figured out the right combination of medications to manage his symptoms and he has good days and bad days mentally. They just switched his medication so we will see how it goes. I am just hoping it takes a while to build in the system before it reaches its maximum effect. But as this is not a fairytale and I can not write the happy ending I would like this chapter of my life (and my father's) to have, we have to sit back, do our best and let fate and the powers that be take charge.
Not knowing what my father's fate will be and should he not get that medical miracle I prayed and begged for, I asked for option B which I never in a million years thought I would be asking for. I prayed to all my grandparents and to God that should they decide it is my father's time, that they not make him suffer, that they not make the entire family suffer. If it is meant to be that these days are his last, let him go quickly and peacefully with as little pain and prolonged suffering as possible. Right now I watch day by day as my father gets sicker and weaker. My mother and I try all day to get him to eat and drink. We try and pack as much calorie content as possible into anything he will agree to eat in hopes we can fatten him up some and give him more strength. And then we walk away disappointed and discouraged as he takes only 3 or 4 bites and then refuses to have anything more. I lie awake at night sometimes listening for the sounds of him wondering the hall to ensure he does not fall down the stairs or fall as he is starting to get unsteady on his feet. Then, there are nights when he is up and down, vomiting all night long and no one sleeps. When he settles down some and tries to rest, I go to my bed, but sleep with one eye open and both ears open - but sleep is not really what I do. Mostly I cry, I pray, I wonder if he will make it through the night. I wonder if he will be here for my brother's wedding in September. I wonder if the next time he throws up he will rupture another vein in his neck and start throwing up blood as has happened in the past and I wonder if an ambulance will get him to the hospital in time before he bleeds out or if I will literally watch him die before my eyes. And many times I wonder why my father is so stubborn and refuses to go to the hospital. I understand that no one wants to be in the hospital, but does he realize what he is putting the family through, or does he simply not care?
I pray every night for that medical miracle but the reality is that my father is sick and I can tell he is not feeling well. Even on his best days, he pretends to feel well when he is not. He tries to give the impression to anyone that visits that he is hanging in there and doing OK, but I know it is all an act. When the day is done and the company and visitors have left, I see the real him- the sick him that is fighting to make it through the night. I see a man afraid to die, but too weak to try. I see a man afraid to eat too much in fear his small intestine will become blocked for the 4th time in a month, but a man who really needs to not have fear of eating or he will die of malnourishment before another intestinal blockage takes him. I see a man wanting to fight and do what he can to get to his son's wedding and I see the man that has been told over and over by doctor after doctor that he is sick and doing any medical intervention surgically will result in possible fatal consequences. And this man is no ordinary man, this man is my father and I watch as he suffers and struggles more and more each day.
So I went today to ask the last of my grandparents for good things to come in 2010 and I prayed for that medical miracle. Oh how I want my father to survive this horrible ordeal, but as his fate is not in my hands, I do not want to be selfish either. So I asked for what I never in a million years thought I would be asking for - an end to his suffering. Should his fate be that he is not supposed to fair as well as we all would like, I ask that whoever is in charge put an end to his suffering. Let his last days be peaceful and do not let his illness and suffering linger for months and months. And as I type this, I feel like a horrible daughter that I would even ask for such a thing, but just like the start of my blog, what is done is done and what is meant to be, is meant to be. The fate or both my father and my blog lie with something much higher than I have the power to control.
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