The Disaster That Was 2016

I’m not in a good mood.  This year has sucked rocks.  I won’t go through the myriad of shootings, public riots, celebrity deaths, cop shootings,  “unarmed” shootings, local crime rate, racial tension,   blah, blah, blah.  All that does is make me dislike humans more intensely (and with the racial stuff, it’s usually the arrogant white folks that piss me off the most).   Since my dad died in April of 2016, I have had few interactions that I really cared to be a part of.   They were ‘mandatory’ or required to be just social ‘enough’.   If I tried to escape  I’d turn on the TV  just to hear about how horrifically humans were treating each other, and it just made me grieve for civilization.   Thank God there were enough interactions with a  few people that at least kept my head above water enough to breathe.   I’m very grateful for them.

The presidential election process further lowered my respect for humans in general (a few exceptions helped me not lose all hope).  One relationship ended because of the rabid and incessant postings of negativity about Obama…. get the hell over it- he was elected nearly eight years ago… MOVE ON.  I can’t stand the constant and so ‘wing-nut right’ rants.     I didn’t much like any of the candidates this year, but the options in the end were  almost unbearably bleak… one much more  than the other (imho), and that’s who we’re stuck with now.  It does warm my heart that he didn’t win the popular vote.  There’s a glimmer of sunshine there. Doesn’t matter who specifically won the popular vote, as long as it wasn’t the sociopath.   I’m grateful for that bit of hope.

Back to my dad.   He died on April 4th at 12:50 a.m.  He wasn’t ‘expected’ to die during that period of illness, and like my mom, he had been blown off when he complained about pain/had symptoms.  Don’t go to rehab hospitals where they have such narrow focus.  They try to fit all symptoms into the disorder they are treating.  Dad’s former (very sweet) lady friend of eight years went to the same place, and she called me to ask what she should do since they weren’t dealing with the fluid accumulation in her abdomen (she had cancer).  I told her to ask to go to the ER for an evaluation.  She did, and ended up having to have multiple ‘drainings’ of the fluid. But the facility didn’t come up with the idea to send her in for evaluation on their own- she had to ask.    I wish I’d been more astute with dad’s pain.  He wasn’t great at describing pain, but I feel bad that I didn’t see more.  I am extremely relieved that I was with him during those last 19 hours.  To have missed that would have killed me.  I made sure he knew I wasn’t leaving him before he went into a coma.  I promised not to leave him, and I didn’t .    But as an RN since 1985 (regardless of being disabled, I keep my license), I have constant ‘brain drain’ about what I should have done to help him more.  He was a great dad.  He didn’t deserve that much pain.  He deserved to be listened to and believed by the people who were supposed to be caring for him.

There was another ‘lady friend’ ( “B”) that dad hung out with socially for about a year before he died, and who was around  like flies at a picnic during the last month of his life. She encouraged him to be dependent, and robbed him of whatever independent activities he could do… which weren’t many.   She turned into more of a nightmare after he died.  She obviously had some intense delusions about the type of relationship she had with dad.  Dad truly  liked the companionship (and her billionaire son in law fascinated him- only thing he mentioned if someone asked if he was seeing someone- never mentioned her by name).  She liked “possession” of him (and had a total hissy fit when I told another one of dad’s lady friends she could put photos on the photo table at the visitation; it was a pathological reaction- they were. not. married.  I included as many of his special lady friends as I could find photos of) .  She also hurt me intensely after the funeral, complaining that she wasn’t mentioned by name ‘enough’ during HIS funeral.  She said her church friends all noticed it and that the pastor who did the service had it in for her since she wasn’t a member of dad’s church… that pastor hadn’t even worked at that church for a while… “B” was clueless and so friggin’ insecure and paranoid.  She wanted to know why I hadn’t consulted her about financial matters (like it’s her business- she was fishing for info, imho).  She also told me (dad’s daughter) that SHE would miss dad the most.  Seriously?   He was my DAD.   She was a 1.2% part of his life. That’s it.  Barely existed (would you miss 1.2 cents from a buck?)  She told me that dad didn’t like the one  lady friend (with photos, who he’d known since high school), and I knew that wasn’t true.  That’s when I started to see “B”  more clearly.  She fabricated things to make her feel like his lifelong love… well, she missed that train when mom married him, and then the wonderful lady he saw for eight years after mom died.  I’d lost my dad, and she was ragging on about all sorts of stuff.  Sure, I knew she’d miss him.  But her degree of histrionics was exhausting and painful.  “B” was creepy- saying that she saw him looking back at her when she put his glasses on her kitchen table (she had a mild conniption at the visitation about when dad’s glasses were going to be taken off… I told her to take them just to shut her up).  I do hope she’s well ( and well away from me).  I pray that her macular degeneration is stable, and not getting worse.  And I want nothing to do with her.  I had to have the garage door opener codes changed because she refused to give me back the one she was last known to have.  I added keyless deadbolts.   When I think of her now, I wonder about her DSM-V diagnoses.   And I still wish her well.

I’ve been contacted via greeting cards by two of my deceased mom’s siblings who made sure I was excluded as ‘family’ while they manipulated and dismantled my late grandmother’s trust (grandma was spineless when it came to standing up for what was fair… she got bullied and she folded) . It was mangled after my mom died, and the surviving siblings kept ensuring they profited off of their dead siblings each time one of them died.   Once someone writes me off, it’s over.   I don’t want to  be reminded of their existence with hypocritical cards.   Either I’m part of the family, or not.  Can’t have both.  They deleted me based on lies they KNEW were lies.  That’s what gets me the most.  Screw the money.  I’d settle for truth – but that bunch is incapable.  Leifheit Logic in that generation has been sketchy at best for decades.    My mom was in that generation, and her biggest ‘flaw’ in regards to logic was keeping her marriage vows and having strong faith… maybe they resented her for that… ?  .    Hard to tell with narcissists. I do know that I want nothing to do with them.   They ‘cancelled’ my family ‘membership’ – and that’s just fine.  But be done with it already.   GO AWAY, even via mail.   I am thankful that the six cousins I have from the other ‘discarded’ sibling understand that we’re worth nothing to the greed-mongers.  I didn’t even tell mom’s surviving siblings  when dad died; they found out on Facebook…  never occurred to me to consider them part of the family to notify.  They dumped me about 5 months earlier.  It wasn’t even an issue in my mind/life.

I’m going in to 2017 with a questionable mass on my neck.  I have a CT scan scheduled for a week from tomorrow.  The hope is that it’s just a lipoma (nothing major), but with my crazy medical history, including a LOT of chemo for leukemia, there is always a  question about more cancer.  Chemo can cause cancer (isn’t that special?) .    It has no doubt contributed to the increase in peripheral neuropathy (including the dysautonomia/POTS).  But without it, I would have been dead in 2010.  Pain is more intense now, including the degenerative disc and joint disease.   I see a new chiropractor next week to hopefully put my neck ‘back in place’.  But, I’m alive.  That is still worth it.

I know I have a lot to be thankful for.  That isn’t lost on me by a long shot.  But like anybody I still have my bad days, and today is a really lousy one.   Next year, I MUST lose weight.  I need to do all I can to avoid future joint replacements and minimize joint and disc pain.   I have to get more focused on keeping track of carbohydrates and insulin requirements.   Right now, my blood sugars are very unstable.  Stress isn’t helping that.   But I’ve got my dog.  She is always happy to be around me, and I’m so thankful for her.

Mostly, I’m thankful for God.  That is my ‘Constant’ and my Hope.  I don’t generally find organized religion to be satisfying, but I do love the Lord.  Call it what you want if you don’t believe… for me , my faith is the only thing that keeps me going.   I know that this life is temporary, and that after this earth, it’s all good.   I don’t like the politics of Christians.   I aim to be more compassionate than the judging and ‘dismissing’ of entire groups of people – and I’m not unaware that my feelings about that are also judging and dismissing (I’m working on that).  And, I still love God more than any human I’ve ever met.  Fortunately, I had a  great earthly father to show me a small example of what a Heavenly Father feels for His children.   When this earth and its people depress me, I remember God.  He has this all in control.   I don’t have to worry about any of the mess going on… in the end, good wins.   I don’t have to worry about what others do, or use them as political pawns.  I only answer for what I do.  When there’s nobody to talk to, God is always there.   No matter what, God is my refuge and joy.  He is what makes tolerating this earth bearable.   I know it’s all going to be OK one day.  Maybe not soon, or maybe tomorrow. It doesn’t matter when.    He wins every time.    And I know that HE  alone can help me see things in a way that is less painful.  HE can remind me of the good that is already here.   I don’t think I’d be able to function if I didn’t have that hope and assurance.

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What If It’s Bad News?

My dad turned 80 years old a few months ago. He’s active, takes care of himself, has a lot of friends, and has never really had to handle serious medical problems of his own. He saw my mom through four cancer surgeries, radiation, chemotherapy, dementia from radiation, and many other surgeries and hospitalizations. He’s seen my disabilities and inability to work as an RN over the last few years.

He’s got an amazing social life, and solid church community that is a big part of his circle of friends.  He goes out walking nearly every day, whether at the mall or a nearby walking path.  Most nights he has something to do and somewhere to go.  He drives all over the place, and is safe driving.  His mind is intact, and he enjoys so many things.

Last week he had a biopsy done on a mass on his neck.  It’s a good sized mass for being on his neck- about 2.5 x 1 x 1.5 inches (not centimeters).   I’ve felt it, and it’s substantial.  Any neck mass can become very complicated because of all of the other structures in that area- windpipe, esophagus, arteries, veins, muscles, nerves… it’s a crowded area for an abnormal mass.  This isn’t really on his thyroid.  It’s more ‘vertical’, and along the trachea- but a bit over to the right.

Today at church his doctor said that there were ‘suspicious cells’ in the biopsy report.  If the test had been ‘OK’, he would have said so.  There is only so much he could say in the middle of the church lobby; to me that isn’t good.  I have no idea what sort of cells they found- and it is possible that whatever is there is very treatable, and not life-threatening.  ‘Suspicious’ doesn’t necessarily mean cancer- but it could.  I’m the sort that thinks about the worst case scenario, and then is pleasantly relieved when it’s good (or better) news.  So my mind is going all over the place.  I’ve seen too much since 1985 when I became an RN.

Mostly, I’m scared for my dad.  IF it turns out to be cancer, there will be decisions about how much to treat it. Tomorrow, Dad is expecting a call from his doctor’s office about a referral to a surgeon; the mass has to go. That has been decided.  After that, I worry about chemotherapy (I finished 19 months of chemo for leukemia a bit over a year ago).  It’s brutal, and not meant for someone with an active life who has never been sick to any extent in 80 years.  I think about radiation- and the  possible side effects. My mom ended up with dementia after radiation to her brain for cancer. Granted the neck isn’t the brain…but I can’t help but think about it.

I’m afraid I won’t be enough help because of my own limitations.  I drove myself to all of my own chemotherapy appointments (more than 50 of them for the IV infusions), but I’m not sure Dad will want to go alone.  I’ll figure it out, with the medical equipment/supplies I’d need.  We’ll get through it.  I just want to do enough.  I want him to know I support him.  I want him not to be any more afraid than he ‘has’ to be.

As a nurse since 1985, I’ve seen a lot.  I know what can happen with neck surgeries, and also what happens when people just want to try anything and everything ‘in case’ something works. I ‘get it’.  It’s human nature to want to live. I’ve seen so many slow deaths from cancer. If this is cancer, there will be a lot of decisions he has to make.  I don’t want him to have to deal with any of that.  I want this to be some cut and dry ‘surgical fix’, and not months of being tied to chemo and/or radiation appointments.  I’ll be supportive of whatever he decides; I just hope that he finds quality in the rest of his life and that this is a temporary bump in the road.  He’s been so active and healthy; something prolonged would be very hard for him.

Tomorrow he will know more, and I’ve asked that the doctor’s office also call me, so I can hear from them what is going on.  I’ve never asked him to have them call me before.  But I’ve never had him tell me that the doctor said he had ‘suspicious cells’ in an abnormal mass.  It’s my dad.  My mom is gone, and he has been my rock.  We talk daily to make sure the other is ‘ok’.  When I’ve been in the hospital, he’s the only one I’ve had to make sure my dog is OK (and that is a huge relief when I’m holed up).  Hopefully, I’m just being an overly worried nurse who knows what ‘suspicious cells’ can mean.  Hopefully, the surgery will be simple and fix a benign problem.   Hopefully, my Dad won’t have to make decisions about quality vs. quantity of life.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to be ‘enough’ help and support for him.  Hopefully, it’s not ‘worse’ bad news. ❤