It's been months since I've slept well. I don't know for sure if it's just stress, or my mattress sucking, or what. I'm sure these last few days are mostly caused by stress due to tomorrow's Dr appointments for my father and trying to figure out this renewal ceremony that my husband and I have decided to do, but I am tired of feeling exhausted.
Along with the stress, returning we have the paralyzing fear of whatever news could be heard tomorrow. It's going to be a very long and anxiety ridden day. The first appointment is with the musculo-skeletal oncologist. This is the worst appointment to deal with first thing, because from what my father has told me about the Dr, he's quite the douche and I am never in any mood to deal with such activity. Regardless, this is also the man that gives my father the worst news, so I will go and listen and do my best to keep my predisposed rage in check and not end up in jail before noon. Next on the list is the post-op appointment with the thoracic surgeon and some x-rays to check on Dad's progress since the surgery. He seems to be doing well physically, but as I've said he's falling into a depression and I can't fix that.
Yes, I am in school for psychology, but when it comes to family the approach has to be gentle and you have to know when to back off. It's not about asking "How does that make you feel", it's about allowing my father to have whatever emotional reaction he has and then trying to talk to him about it without going all whiny and having a breakdown. THIS is the most difficult part of it all.
I have yet to reach that point in my life where I've been able to build that proverbial wall that stops me from reacting to other's emotions and feeling them as if they were somehow my own. I'm an empath, I have emotional reactions to people that I don't even know and sometimes I react to the emotions of people I can't even see. It sucks sometimes.
I feel like a friggin nut case. I'm fine one minute, the next I have this horrible fear of the worst, the next I'm laughing about how ridiculous I'm being and I know it's all kind of related to grieving. Not in the sense of someone dying, but with something like cancer, people go through grief based on what could happen, not necessarily on what is happening.
We're all dealing ok for now, but we really need something to work out the right way. We need things to turn back in the direction of normal. My father really wants and needs to go back to work, my mother needs counselling and to get out of the house, my kids and I need to get back into the grind of school and homework and I have never looked forward to deadlines and writing papers and research and MATH so much in my life. I crave normal like a meth head craves their death in a baggie.
I'm realistic, I know that getting back into school isn't going to make everything else normal, but it's something I can rely on that is somewhat predictable. I have a syllabus with due dates and I have work that has to be completed with deadlines, so there is some ability to plan for things there. I just kind of wish that I had the same for the home life so I could prepare as well for what's coming. Some warning would be great.
SLEEP WOULD BE BETTER. This falling asleep at 5 a.m. and getting up at 9 is NOT working out. It's not the fact that I'm limited to 4 hours of sleep, I did that for 3 semesters straight, I can hang with that, it's that the sleep that I'm getting starts too late and is NOT real rest. It's tossing and turning and waking up every 20 minutes because I'm not fully asleep and I hear things that wake me up. It's the dreams that are happening in this half-sleep state that have a sound track in the background that I'm not able to decipher if it's happening inside my head or out. It's the fact that when I look in the mirror, I LOOK like I haven't slept in months. I NEED REST.
So, today I will go have coffee with a friend, I will do the yard work (after the rain stops) and I will go running tonight. In my travels of the day I plan to try to find a mild sleep inducing medication and take it no later then 10 tonight in hopes that I can wake around 6 a.m. and get my shower and do what needs to be done before the hell of the day takes hold and sweeps me into the tornado that is my life, for yet another day.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
I'm gonna need a MUCH larger plate...
So, here we are a few days later and it's not that I've been quiet, just a bit distracted. I'm not so great with keeping up with leisurely journals and this is no exception.
Anyway, here's what this last week has brought in to add to an already "up in the air" feeling of mild chaos...
My husband has mentioned a time or two that he wanted to renew our vows on or around our 10th Anniversary. I figured it was just a passing thought and didn't breach the subject for fear of being taken down when that boat capsized. Well, what do I know? I should have because 1 week ago today it was brought up again. This time with a little more intent to actually discuss it. So here I am, gearing up for the kids and I to start back to school, hunkering down for whatever news my father's oncologist is going to throw at our faces and he drops this steaming pile in my lap.
Well, have I got news for him. It's not gonna be like the original wedding. OH NO. He's gonna have to put some work and thought into it too. I've got tons of things bookmarked, I know what colors are needed, I have found a few dress styles, (way less than formal, not that the first time was very formal anyway), I've found some music and I wrote some semblance of what I want to say. He has chosen the perfect song, though. He asked me to look up the lyrics to Sugarland's "Stuck Like Glue" and I did. While I don't like country music AT ALL, it's perfect. So that's 1 song down and I have a few others in mind I would like played. Other than that, the only thing I've decided is that the kids will be involved and that there will be a short form of a hand fasting ritual done. (It's an old Celtic pre-marriage ritual that I'm changing up to suit us and our relationship)
Now, onto the really important stuff. Dad seems to be recovering from surgery fine, physically, but I'm worried about his depression. He still has his sense of humor, but his worry shows on his face almost always now. He got some not so great news the other day, but as I've said, he hears 1 bad thing and stops taking in the information and I didn't know there was an appt or I would have gone. He does have appt's this coming Wed that I am going to, so we'll see what's said then. Hopefully Doc isn't king of the douches that day or I may end up in jail and that would just suck. His musculo-skeletal oncologist is the problem and that's the first appt of the day, then we go to his pot-op with the thoracic surgeon at Moffitt. So next week is full of awesome anxiety.
My son also has a consult with an orthodontist the day after. OY! AND my mother and I are going to go to bridal shops for me to try a few different styles of dresses on to figure out what works best for me. We've talked about getting a driver and taking shots during this process because neither of us do the girly thing well and we like to make jokes about horrible dresses. This is much easier when there's liquor involved.
So, I'm taking these next 2 days to just kind of put around the house, get some cleaning up done and try to ignore the feeling of impending doom, cause come Tuesday, all bets are off and I'll be lucky if I breathe for 3 days.
Well, enough of my blathering, time to shower and become a part of the living world, I guess. Have a great weekend, all. Well, if you do that sort of thing.
Anyway, here's what this last week has brought in to add to an already "up in the air" feeling of mild chaos...
My husband has mentioned a time or two that he wanted to renew our vows on or around our 10th Anniversary. I figured it was just a passing thought and didn't breach the subject for fear of being taken down when that boat capsized. Well, what do I know? I should have because 1 week ago today it was brought up again. This time with a little more intent to actually discuss it. So here I am, gearing up for the kids and I to start back to school, hunkering down for whatever news my father's oncologist is going to throw at our faces and he drops this steaming pile in my lap.
Well, have I got news for him. It's not gonna be like the original wedding. OH NO. He's gonna have to put some work and thought into it too. I've got tons of things bookmarked, I know what colors are needed, I have found a few dress styles, (way less than formal, not that the first time was very formal anyway), I've found some music and I wrote some semblance of what I want to say. He has chosen the perfect song, though. He asked me to look up the lyrics to Sugarland's "Stuck Like Glue" and I did. While I don't like country music AT ALL, it's perfect. So that's 1 song down and I have a few others in mind I would like played. Other than that, the only thing I've decided is that the kids will be involved and that there will be a short form of a hand fasting ritual done. (It's an old Celtic pre-marriage ritual that I'm changing up to suit us and our relationship)
Now, onto the really important stuff. Dad seems to be recovering from surgery fine, physically, but I'm worried about his depression. He still has his sense of humor, but his worry shows on his face almost always now. He got some not so great news the other day, but as I've said, he hears 1 bad thing and stops taking in the information and I didn't know there was an appt or I would have gone. He does have appt's this coming Wed that I am going to, so we'll see what's said then. Hopefully Doc isn't king of the douches that day or I may end up in jail and that would just suck. His musculo-skeletal oncologist is the problem and that's the first appt of the day, then we go to his pot-op with the thoracic surgeon at Moffitt. So next week is full of awesome anxiety.
My son also has a consult with an orthodontist the day after. OY! AND my mother and I are going to go to bridal shops for me to try a few different styles of dresses on to figure out what works best for me. We've talked about getting a driver and taking shots during this process because neither of us do the girly thing well and we like to make jokes about horrible dresses. This is much easier when there's liquor involved.
So, I'm taking these next 2 days to just kind of put around the house, get some cleaning up done and try to ignore the feeling of impending doom, cause come Tuesday, all bets are off and I'll be lucky if I breathe for 3 days.
Well, enough of my blathering, time to shower and become a part of the living world, I guess. Have a great weekend, all. Well, if you do that sort of thing.
Monday, August 1, 2011
It's been a few days
And I really don't have much to say at the moment. Just going through the motions and doing what I need to do, I guess.
Got a bit of school shopping done for the minions, got a few things for me. Got back into running and no pain, yet. Went to the gym today, LOVE the gym. Oh and scored an XBOX 360 from a friend for helping her move. Just wish all the crap for it wasn't so damn expensive.
Gonna try out the NFL Training Camp game on the Wii tonight, too. Finally got a used one for pretty cheap, so I'm excited about that.
Other than that not much going on. Dentist appt for me and my kids tomorrow and Dad has 2 Dr's appts next week, so that's gonna be a crazy week.
Looking forward to getting back into the school routine this week, we're going back to school bed and wake up times. We need the practice, desperately in time to do the real thing before the nightmare begins anew. lol
Well, off to makey da dinnah.
Have a great week!
Got a bit of school shopping done for the minions, got a few things for me. Got back into running and no pain, yet. Went to the gym today, LOVE the gym. Oh and scored an XBOX 360 from a friend for helping her move. Just wish all the crap for it wasn't so damn expensive.
Gonna try out the NFL Training Camp game on the Wii tonight, too. Finally got a used one for pretty cheap, so I'm excited about that.
Other than that not much going on. Dentist appt for me and my kids tomorrow and Dad has 2 Dr's appts next week, so that's gonna be a crazy week.
Looking forward to getting back into the school routine this week, we're going back to school bed and wake up times. We need the practice, desperately in time to do the real thing before the nightmare begins anew. lol
Well, off to makey da dinnah.
Have a great week!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Another day down
Today was the 2nd day after his surgery and Dad is doing well. Doc said his X-rays look great and that the lung will heal nicely. The incision doesn't look too bad, either, but I know it is going to suck real bad as it begins to heal. The hardest part as a family, we still face. I see how frustrated and upset my dad gets and how angry that makes him and this doesn't bode well for the mental healing to come.
We still have a LONG road to go, because this wasn't even the main concern with the cancer. This took priority due to the location, but it metastasized from the tumor in his quad, so we still have to get that figured out.
This is how it breaks down, so far: his tumor was about 7.9" long, 5.5" wide and 4.7" deep at the last measurement. I believe that this was back in the beginning of July. There is clear evidence of necrosis within the tumor (it's dying) though I haven't been told how much. The official diagnosis is soft tissue sarcoma, though I haven't been given a subtype as yet and I also have not been told whether or not it has been staged. From what little research I've done (and trust me that was too much) there are 3 or 4 factors that go into staging the sarcoma. It depends on the depth and size of the tumor as well as the "grade" and whether or not it has spread to or beyond the lungs. Apparently the lungs is the first party it holds when it's decided that it's traveling time. The mass in his upper lobe of the left lung was about 1/2" across, they tested the margins (took a little extra all the way around) and the lymph nodes and both tests returned negative. The mass itself was returned positive and was also confirmed to be the offspring of the original mass in his leg.
Now, all of this sounded horrifying to me until the Oncologist put it all into perspective in the beginning.
The tumor in his leg is only about 15% of the size of his muscle, due to the size of the muscles in his leg. He's worked construction or construction related jobs all of his adult life. In the typical person with average sized quad muscles, this would typically equate to around 30% or so. This is really good news. As for the lungs, the MRI's were showing these spots from day 1 and they were assumed to be scarring or calcification from his history of his line of work and possibly from the extensive exposure to concrete dust. The Drs have kept an eye on them since they first saw them. There were 3 in the left lung, 2 of which went away, the other stayed at around 1/4" in size from March until the beginning of July, which is when they noticed that it had grown. He's had at least 1 MRI every month since the diagnosis. In the right, there is definitely showing of 1 mass around 1/4" or a little less and it's too deep into the tissue to remove right now. There is also a possible 2nd mass, but the last MRI wasn't clear enough for the thoracic surgeon to be positive about a call.
He has gone through the highest and strongest dose of chemotherapy that is given to humans, 3 days every 21 for 8 hours/day from March 12 to the end of May. Then he was told to wait for a few weeks and to get the radiation done, which he did every day for 6 weeks, I think. That radiation totally microwaved the meat in his leg where the tumor was, but it did it's job by beginning the dying process int he primary tumor, after which we needed to wait about 3 weeks for it to heal so he can have the tumor removed without making hamburger out of the tissue in his leg. Unfortunately the musculo-skeletal oncologist admitted to dropping the ball and said that he should have started Dad on radiation the very next Monday after chemo was over.
The entire length of the chemo treatment, my father was doing great. He was a bit nauseous, but was only really sick one time. That was the fault of one of the receptionists in the office changing his arrival time and them having to administer an 8 hour treatment in less than 4, as not to screw up the whole rotation of chemo that had been worked out.
We were told that after the chemo and radiation were done, we were looking at a 2 or 3 week wait until the surgery would be scheduled to remove the primary tumor, if everything went as planned. Naturally when the Dr told us how well everything was going, we got excited that things would possibly be happening up to 2 months earlier than we originally planned. WELL, then here we are.
I think the worst part of all of this is the mental state I see my father falling into and not being able to do anything about it or help him at all. He was quite pissed earlier because of the physical situation he's been put in with this surgery. My father is a very independent and private person. He is the kind of person that doesn't walk around his own house without a shirt on. Unfortunately, the glass fishbowl of the ICU didn't have that type of atmosphere and when you add that to the fact that the nurses don't worry about whether your curtains are closed when they undress you and that your toilet facilities are minimally concealed by a very thin curtain, you get a very angry man on your hands. He's also dealing with a lot of anxiety and experienced his first panic attack last night. Now that he was finally transported to a private room, things should hopefully get a little easier for him.
Rumor has it that he's supposed to be released tomorrow sometime, but it's dependent on his level of function and ability when the Dr comes in to see him. So, if you've been praying for us, please keep it going. We all could use it, but mostly my dad, he needs to be calm and find some quiet and peace for at least a few minutes every few hours and to look at what he'll have once this is all over.
Thanks for "listening" to me ramble. Go have an adventure, or sleep in and waste the day tomorrow. But whatever you do, enjoy it and tell those that complain about it to kiss your ass and mind their own freaking bees wax!!!
We still have a LONG road to go, because this wasn't even the main concern with the cancer. This took priority due to the location, but it metastasized from the tumor in his quad, so we still have to get that figured out.
This is how it breaks down, so far: his tumor was about 7.9" long, 5.5" wide and 4.7" deep at the last measurement. I believe that this was back in the beginning of July. There is clear evidence of necrosis within the tumor (it's dying) though I haven't been told how much. The official diagnosis is soft tissue sarcoma, though I haven't been given a subtype as yet and I also have not been told whether or not it has been staged. From what little research I've done (and trust me that was too much) there are 3 or 4 factors that go into staging the sarcoma. It depends on the depth and size of the tumor as well as the "grade" and whether or not it has spread to or beyond the lungs. Apparently the lungs is the first party it holds when it's decided that it's traveling time. The mass in his upper lobe of the left lung was about 1/2" across, they tested the margins (took a little extra all the way around) and the lymph nodes and both tests returned negative. The mass itself was returned positive and was also confirmed to be the offspring of the original mass in his leg.
Now, all of this sounded horrifying to me until the Oncologist put it all into perspective in the beginning.
The tumor in his leg is only about 15% of the size of his muscle, due to the size of the muscles in his leg. He's worked construction or construction related jobs all of his adult life. In the typical person with average sized quad muscles, this would typically equate to around 30% or so. This is really good news. As for the lungs, the MRI's were showing these spots from day 1 and they were assumed to be scarring or calcification from his history of his line of work and possibly from the extensive exposure to concrete dust. The Drs have kept an eye on them since they first saw them. There were 3 in the left lung, 2 of which went away, the other stayed at around 1/4" in size from March until the beginning of July, which is when they noticed that it had grown. He's had at least 1 MRI every month since the diagnosis. In the right, there is definitely showing of 1 mass around 1/4" or a little less and it's too deep into the tissue to remove right now. There is also a possible 2nd mass, but the last MRI wasn't clear enough for the thoracic surgeon to be positive about a call.
He has gone through the highest and strongest dose of chemotherapy that is given to humans, 3 days every 21 for 8 hours/day from March 12 to the end of May. Then he was told to wait for a few weeks and to get the radiation done, which he did every day for 6 weeks, I think. That radiation totally microwaved the meat in his leg where the tumor was, but it did it's job by beginning the dying process int he primary tumor, after which we needed to wait about 3 weeks for it to heal so he can have the tumor removed without making hamburger out of the tissue in his leg. Unfortunately the musculo-skeletal oncologist admitted to dropping the ball and said that he should have started Dad on radiation the very next Monday after chemo was over.
The entire length of the chemo treatment, my father was doing great. He was a bit nauseous, but was only really sick one time. That was the fault of one of the receptionists in the office changing his arrival time and them having to administer an 8 hour treatment in less than 4, as not to screw up the whole rotation of chemo that had been worked out.
We were told that after the chemo and radiation were done, we were looking at a 2 or 3 week wait until the surgery would be scheduled to remove the primary tumor, if everything went as planned. Naturally when the Dr told us how well everything was going, we got excited that things would possibly be happening up to 2 months earlier than we originally planned. WELL, then here we are.
I think the worst part of all of this is the mental state I see my father falling into and not being able to do anything about it or help him at all. He was quite pissed earlier because of the physical situation he's been put in with this surgery. My father is a very independent and private person. He is the kind of person that doesn't walk around his own house without a shirt on. Unfortunately, the glass fishbowl of the ICU didn't have that type of atmosphere and when you add that to the fact that the nurses don't worry about whether your curtains are closed when they undress you and that your toilet facilities are minimally concealed by a very thin curtain, you get a very angry man on your hands. He's also dealing with a lot of anxiety and experienced his first panic attack last night. Now that he was finally transported to a private room, things should hopefully get a little easier for him.
Rumor has it that he's supposed to be released tomorrow sometime, but it's dependent on his level of function and ability when the Dr comes in to see him. So, if you've been praying for us, please keep it going. We all could use it, but mostly my dad, he needs to be calm and find some quiet and peace for at least a few minutes every few hours and to look at what he'll have once this is all over.
Thanks for "listening" to me ramble. Go have an adventure, or sleep in and waste the day tomorrow. But whatever you do, enjoy it and tell those that complain about it to kiss your ass and mind their own freaking bees wax!!!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Exhaustion, nervous giggles and inappropriate humor. It's how we roll.
Well today was surgery and things have gone smoothly. Dad's doing awesome, but is in a lot of pain. (they did cut apart some muscle and rib bone, puncture and collapse his lung and remove a section of lung tissue, so what else would he be expecting?) While this has been the longest day since this whole cancer shindig started, it has not been the worst.
Now, don't get me wrong, obviously it was no walk in the park. We didn't have a party or anything, but it went well, there were no complications, the surgery was over quickly and this place is actually quiet compared to most hospitals I've been in.
There was much more laughing going on as we waited, than most people feel is appropriate. We really didn't care. My mother, brother and Uncle (Dad's youngest brother) and I all sat in the waiting room during surgery and put together a puzzle while making the MOST inappropriate jokes and giggling somewhat hysterically due to being SO overtired, but it's been a good day.
I bring this message to you from the bedside of my dad while he's in the SCU ("Special Care Unit" same as ICU, just for tards?) just to have some quiet time and make sure he's got someone here with him in case he needs anything before the staff makes me leave.
Mom's brother came up for a while and visited, which was cool, but he had to take off due to family and work. Next to shuffle out completely exhausted with the beginning of a migraine was Dad's brother, then I made Mom and my brother take off since my mother looked horribly exhausted and I know she hasn't slept for more than 2 hours from the anxiety. I am currently running on less than an hour of sleep, but had a great night talking with a friend that I don't get to see nearly enough and even though he's falling asleep intermittently, I know my Dad's ok and it's a chance to just be.
All in all, today has been a long, but good day. Between the puzzles, jokes, giggling, round of "Life" on the iPhone and my Dad's lung being in the clear now, I can't say it was a wasted day.
I just really hope that the next time we have to do this it goes as smoothly and the staff is half as nice as the one here at Moffitt, cause the TGH Staff were pretty rude when we had the biopsy done and one never knows how easily I may snap. lol
I hope everyone has had at least a decent day and thank you all for any thoughts, prayers and well wishes for my dad and the rest of us.
Now, don't get me wrong, obviously it was no walk in the park. We didn't have a party or anything, but it went well, there were no complications, the surgery was over quickly and this place is actually quiet compared to most hospitals I've been in.
There was much more laughing going on as we waited, than most people feel is appropriate. We really didn't care. My mother, brother and Uncle (Dad's youngest brother) and I all sat in the waiting room during surgery and put together a puzzle while making the MOST inappropriate jokes and giggling somewhat hysterically due to being SO overtired, but it's been a good day.
I bring this message to you from the bedside of my dad while he's in the SCU ("Special Care Unit" same as ICU, just for tards?) just to have some quiet time and make sure he's got someone here with him in case he needs anything before the staff makes me leave.
Mom's brother came up for a while and visited, which was cool, but he had to take off due to family and work. Next to shuffle out completely exhausted with the beginning of a migraine was Dad's brother, then I made Mom and my brother take off since my mother looked horribly exhausted and I know she hasn't slept for more than 2 hours from the anxiety. I am currently running on less than an hour of sleep, but had a great night talking with a friend that I don't get to see nearly enough and even though he's falling asleep intermittently, I know my Dad's ok and it's a chance to just be.
All in all, today has been a long, but good day. Between the puzzles, jokes, giggling, round of "Life" on the iPhone and my Dad's lung being in the clear now, I can't say it was a wasted day.
I just really hope that the next time we have to do this it goes as smoothly and the staff is half as nice as the one here at Moffitt, cause the TGH Staff were pretty rude when we had the biopsy done and one never knows how easily I may snap. lol
I hope everyone has had at least a decent day and thank you all for any thoughts, prayers and well wishes for my dad and the rest of us.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Ah, stress, how our friendship has blossomed
Well, today is another day and surprisingly I don't feel the need to smash anything or maim anyone, yet. But it IS still quite early.
Yesterday wasn't too bad, did some housework, had to explain to the husband and kids that I am not a slave or maid and I will be limiting the dishes that we are all allowed to use so I'm not spending FOREVER cleaning the ones no one else does. After that continuous hour of bitching and preaching we went over to the 'rents' house so Dad and I could go to another gun shop. Dad wanted to talk to the guy about showing me how to break down the firearm we have, so I agreed. Hey, any excuse to go look at firearms, my testosterone is overwhelming some days. They had a few nice pieces, but nothing that made me drool.
The guy at the counter looked at my handgun and explained that breakdown wasn't really necessary and it was a pain in the ass, so it may be better to skip unless absolutely necessary, and that was that.
The trip was awkward, both there and back. Apparently Dad read an email that I forwarded to my mother and was super pissed off about some of the stuff I mentioned, but he was mad at mom, not me because it was referring to stuff she says about him somedays. Our family is usually quite loud, but yesterday otw to and from the shop, it was almost complete silence.
Then otw home from the shop, my father explains that he's nervous and scared about the cancer and the surgery, but he can't show it in front of my mother because she gets irritated and pissed off. Let me tell you, I come from a family of master fucking communicators. Woo. Until recently with the cancer diagnosis, my Dad wasn't really one to communicate his feelings AT ALL, you never really saw him cry or get truly upset, unless it was at a funeral. If he was upset about something, it usually was only seen through his frustration, cussing and yelling. Now, this sounds really horrible, but this cancer has been a reason and the catalyst for my father to communicate what he's feeling. Let me tell you, it's more of a curse than a blessing.
31 years of reading my father's actions and reading between the lines of what he's saying and all of a sudden there's this life altering news and now he has to throw him discussing feelings into the mix. I'm going to school for psychology, so I know that something of this caliber changes people's attitudes and lives. I knew that before I took a psych course, but when you're living it, it's a bit different. It's all very new and still really REALLY awkward.
Up until late Feb, I had only seen my father tear up or cry maybe 6-8 times in my 30 years and all were funerals, births and my wedding. In the last few months, I've seen my father tear up or cry out of fear, anger, frustration, and who knows what else. Do you have ANY idea how weird that is? He's my father and I love him and most of the time when he cries, it's not something you would notice unless you really knew him or were looking for it, but I see it and it scares the shit out of me. I want to hug him and just sit on his lap when I see it, but I think if I did that, #1 he'd scream in pain, because of the giant tumor in his leg and I'm no small girl, and #2, I am a little afraid that he'd punch me. lol
All this sharing and musing is brought to you today by the pre-op appt I'm going to with him in a few hours. It's hard to explain what's going on in my head or how I'm feeling at anytime, unless I'm super pissed off. (as evidenced by the post from the other day, see "And now I've heard it all...") It's kind of like grieving, but not. I kind of feel like it's not really happening sometimes, other times I feel like it's some cosmic joke that is never ending. Other times I feel overwhelmed by the frustration and lack of control I have over my life right now. And there are some days where I wake up and feel like I'm just floating around watching it all happen from outside my body and it's some massive nightmare. Honestly, I really wish this whole year was just some massive nightmare, between the 2 moves into crappy situations, the lack of money, the cancer and all of the bad news we keep getting. I tend to wonder where all of this is coming from.
I've told you that I'm not Christian, which the few of you here already know, but I wholeheartedly believe in karma and I believe that everything you do pays you back in some form. I'm just really starting to wonder if there was some other life I've lived where I was like some sort of war lord or human trafficker or if maybe I was a slave driver or sweat shop owner, because in less than a 6 month time frame I've had more Universal shitty-ness happen than most people I've met and I don't get it.
Well, I guess that's my morning novel, so I'll go and try to pretend to be normal for another day. I need to shower and get ready to go. I'll probably get another entry up this evening, after the appt and after I go help a friend pack her stuff for her move. I just have to survive the next 33 days of chaos before I have some semblance of normalcy in the form of the fall semester of school. Fingers crossed that we can all make it that long.
Go out and have an awesome adventure, or at least stay out of jail. After all, that's my goal for the day.
Yesterday wasn't too bad, did some housework, had to explain to the husband and kids that I am not a slave or maid and I will be limiting the dishes that we are all allowed to use so I'm not spending FOREVER cleaning the ones no one else does. After that continuous hour of bitching and preaching we went over to the 'rents' house so Dad and I could go to another gun shop. Dad wanted to talk to the guy about showing me how to break down the firearm we have, so I agreed. Hey, any excuse to go look at firearms, my testosterone is overwhelming some days. They had a few nice pieces, but nothing that made me drool.
The guy at the counter looked at my handgun and explained that breakdown wasn't really necessary and it was a pain in the ass, so it may be better to skip unless absolutely necessary, and that was that.
The trip was awkward, both there and back. Apparently Dad read an email that I forwarded to my mother and was super pissed off about some of the stuff I mentioned, but he was mad at mom, not me because it was referring to stuff she says about him somedays. Our family is usually quite loud, but yesterday otw to and from the shop, it was almost complete silence.
Then otw home from the shop, my father explains that he's nervous and scared about the cancer and the surgery, but he can't show it in front of my mother because she gets irritated and pissed off. Let me tell you, I come from a family of master fucking communicators. Woo. Until recently with the cancer diagnosis, my Dad wasn't really one to communicate his feelings AT ALL, you never really saw him cry or get truly upset, unless it was at a funeral. If he was upset about something, it usually was only seen through his frustration, cussing and yelling. Now, this sounds really horrible, but this cancer has been a reason and the catalyst for my father to communicate what he's feeling. Let me tell you, it's more of a curse than a blessing.
31 years of reading my father's actions and reading between the lines of what he's saying and all of a sudden there's this life altering news and now he has to throw him discussing feelings into the mix. I'm going to school for psychology, so I know that something of this caliber changes people's attitudes and lives. I knew that before I took a psych course, but when you're living it, it's a bit different. It's all very new and still really REALLY awkward.
Up until late Feb, I had only seen my father tear up or cry maybe 6-8 times in my 30 years and all were funerals, births and my wedding. In the last few months, I've seen my father tear up or cry out of fear, anger, frustration, and who knows what else. Do you have ANY idea how weird that is? He's my father and I love him and most of the time when he cries, it's not something you would notice unless you really knew him or were looking for it, but I see it and it scares the shit out of me. I want to hug him and just sit on his lap when I see it, but I think if I did that, #1 he'd scream in pain, because of the giant tumor in his leg and I'm no small girl, and #2, I am a little afraid that he'd punch me. lol
All this sharing and musing is brought to you today by the pre-op appt I'm going to with him in a few hours. It's hard to explain what's going on in my head or how I'm feeling at anytime, unless I'm super pissed off. (as evidenced by the post from the other day, see "And now I've heard it all...") It's kind of like grieving, but not. I kind of feel like it's not really happening sometimes, other times I feel like it's some cosmic joke that is never ending. Other times I feel overwhelmed by the frustration and lack of control I have over my life right now. And there are some days where I wake up and feel like I'm just floating around watching it all happen from outside my body and it's some massive nightmare. Honestly, I really wish this whole year was just some massive nightmare, between the 2 moves into crappy situations, the lack of money, the cancer and all of the bad news we keep getting. I tend to wonder where all of this is coming from.
I've told you that I'm not Christian, which the few of you here already know, but I wholeheartedly believe in karma and I believe that everything you do pays you back in some form. I'm just really starting to wonder if there was some other life I've lived where I was like some sort of war lord or human trafficker or if maybe I was a slave driver or sweat shop owner, because in less than a 6 month time frame I've had more Universal shitty-ness happen than most people I've met and I don't get it.
Well, I guess that's my morning novel, so I'll go and try to pretend to be normal for another day. I need to shower and get ready to go. I'll probably get another entry up this evening, after the appt and after I go help a friend pack her stuff for her move. I just have to survive the next 33 days of chaos before I have some semblance of normalcy in the form of the fall semester of school. Fingers crossed that we can all make it that long.
Go out and have an awesome adventure, or at least stay out of jail. After all, that's my goal for the day.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
And now I've heard it all ***INUNDATED WITH PROFANITY***
Well, today was an ok day. Cleaned the guns with Dad and hubby, hubby got under my skin, as per usual and was close to getting stabbed, Dad was in a good mood, hung with the parents for the day, watched the world cup (Awesome job, USA, you'll get those sushi makers next time!) was relaxing for a change. No real cancer talk, except for the plan for pre-op for Dad. Then we come home....
A few days ago I decided it was a good idea to email an old friend that I've known for years. Most of my life, to be honest. My father and her mother have known each other since being teenagers, we grew up together after I was about 11, went different directions in life (I took the douche road, she took a scholarship and college education), lost touch for a while, started getting close again, then Dad's diagnosis hit. We'd hung out, her, her sister, my husband, our kids and I for a few months, very often and had a great time and what I thought was a pretty solid friendship. No using and abusing or back stabbing, really straight-forward almost grown up friendship. She and her sister lost their father to cancer almost a year ago, so when we got the diagnosis, I knew it would be hard for them to hear, but figured that the semi-good prognosis we got would be a little easier and that maybe we did have some people in our lives that understood what we were facing and the fear and anxiety and shock we felt...
Boy was I fucking wrong. After we got the news and finally set up treatment (which only took about a week and a half) I spoke to them the day prior to Dad's first treatment. I told one of them how scared I was and how I'm the kind of person that needs distractions and people around to help me keep my sanity and not completely break down. I know they are the opposite and tend to isolate, but I thought they understood where I was coming from, so when I didn't hear from either of them for 3 months I finally broke down and emailed.
I explained the current situation, said I knew that it was probably hard for them to hear and understood that it was probably something that they had a hard time facing. I also told them how hurt and super pissed off I was that they just walked the fuck away like it was nothing. After all, they've known my dad Since they were about 8 and 11. I explained that I missed them and being able to hang out, but I was also furious that the ONLY people that I thought I could talk to about all of this and who could possibly grasp the fear and anxiety and heartbreak I was experiencing just didn't seem to care. Now, prior to all of this I did ask how they were doing, how their mom was and how school and jobs were going. I also began with the I miss you part, not the "you guys are total dick bags, how could you" part or the "oh, hey, Dad's getting part of his lung chopped off in a week or so" part.
The response I received was infuriating and the reasoning was fucking laughable, AT BEST. I was told that I couldn't possibly understand their feelings about it and that they didn't have a father and I do, so I couldn't see how it upset them. They couldn't deal with how negative I am, mind you I'm the same amount of asshole I was 20 years ago, maybe less, and that it's hard for them to deal with any of this because I still have my dad and it hasn't been a year yet since theirs has passed. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? So, you can't hang around or fucking talk to me for 3 months because my father hasn't died from this fucking shitty cancer? THAT'S YOUR PSYCHO REASON? And I was also told that I needed to back up and analyze myself before giving advice after posting on FB (aka the downfall of humanity and accountability of action and words) that I thought some people needed psych evals and I needed to remove them from my life. Now, that was something I posted, but it was directed at the shitty 20 year olds that bitch about their parents not buying them what they want or that they can't afford that new $45 bra from Victoria's Secret they want and THOSE are the bitches I dropped out of my life. 2 weeks after that I dropped all of the "Unknowns" and acquaintances off my friends list, then in another week or 2 I dropped the rest of the people I didn't feel needed to know what was going on with my father. Then I waited another week after other updates to see if there were many that inquired about how he was dealing with chemo or how his walking was doing or how the rest of us were coping with the newest clusterfuck that was happening before deleting the long time, some life long, friends and relatives that didn't seem to give a rats ass about the situation. They were in the LAST group. That was 1 full month, maybe a little longer AFTER the treatments began. AFTER the phones calls where I left messages, emails and texts when I said I just needed someone to talk to and listen to me vent because I couldn't hold it together on my own. You know how many people responded to any of that? DO YOU? 3, maybe. 3 fucking people out of the 30 or so I thought could be half way decent fucking humans and bother to check on my dad or answer when I call or call when they got my unintelligible sobbing voicemail. Got news for you, neither of those 2 were any of those 3. 1 of them was my mother, so technically it doesn't count, because we were kind of returning the same messages and calls to each other that we were making.
So I ask you this, if you were to have a friend, close or even half way between friend and acquaintance that was dealing with something you'd gone through recently and you were scared because it fucked you all up, would you just walk away and carry on knowing they had no one else other than family that was also dealing with it? What about if you had lost your mother to liver cancer 2 years prior and a friend you've known for 20 years calls and tells you that their mother has stage 3 cancer and has been given 6 months to live? Would you say "Oh so sorry, gotta run, hope it turns out alright. I'll wear a bracelet (that millions of others wear) and write their name on a piece of paper." cause it's awkward and upsetting and then just walk away from the people you grew up with? Or would you be a fucking human and at least call that person, or their parent who's dealing with the disease, just to see how things are going and ask if they wanna go have a drink or wanna go beat the shit out of something to get the anger out?
Would you be jealous and angry, at almost 30, because they still had a parent and yours had passed and use that as a reason not to be a friend?
WHAT THE FUCK? Apparently I'm the asshole cause you hurt me by walking away, but I didn't take into account that it's kinda rubbing it in your face that my Dad's LIVING with cancer, while it took yours. Sorry about that. Next time I'll remember that before I talk to anyone who's lost a parent, child, sibling or spouse about anything I'm dealing with, no matter how long I've known them. After all, why should I be upset or scared since they're at least still hear? I'll wait until they're gone before I bother you with my negativity and harsh your buzz again with my unreasonable fears.
Assholes.
Some of this may sound childish on my part, but I'm pissed off, my feelings are hurt and I have nothing to loose my anger on today but this cyber-notebook.
Hope your night was better than mine and I hope your enemies aren't half as dickish as my "friends".
A few days ago I decided it was a good idea to email an old friend that I've known for years. Most of my life, to be honest. My father and her mother have known each other since being teenagers, we grew up together after I was about 11, went different directions in life (I took the douche road, she took a scholarship and college education), lost touch for a while, started getting close again, then Dad's diagnosis hit. We'd hung out, her, her sister, my husband, our kids and I for a few months, very often and had a great time and what I thought was a pretty solid friendship. No using and abusing or back stabbing, really straight-forward almost grown up friendship. She and her sister lost their father to cancer almost a year ago, so when we got the diagnosis, I knew it would be hard for them to hear, but figured that the semi-good prognosis we got would be a little easier and that maybe we did have some people in our lives that understood what we were facing and the fear and anxiety and shock we felt...
Boy was I fucking wrong. After we got the news and finally set up treatment (which only took about a week and a half) I spoke to them the day prior to Dad's first treatment. I told one of them how scared I was and how I'm the kind of person that needs distractions and people around to help me keep my sanity and not completely break down. I know they are the opposite and tend to isolate, but I thought they understood where I was coming from, so when I didn't hear from either of them for 3 months I finally broke down and emailed.
I explained the current situation, said I knew that it was probably hard for them to hear and understood that it was probably something that they had a hard time facing. I also told them how hurt and super pissed off I was that they just walked the fuck away like it was nothing. After all, they've known my dad Since they were about 8 and 11. I explained that I missed them and being able to hang out, but I was also furious that the ONLY people that I thought I could talk to about all of this and who could possibly grasp the fear and anxiety and heartbreak I was experiencing just didn't seem to care. Now, prior to all of this I did ask how they were doing, how their mom was and how school and jobs were going. I also began with the I miss you part, not the "you guys are total dick bags, how could you" part or the "oh, hey, Dad's getting part of his lung chopped off in a week or so" part.
The response I received was infuriating and the reasoning was fucking laughable, AT BEST. I was told that I couldn't possibly understand their feelings about it and that they didn't have a father and I do, so I couldn't see how it upset them. They couldn't deal with how negative I am, mind you I'm the same amount of asshole I was 20 years ago, maybe less, and that it's hard for them to deal with any of this because I still have my dad and it hasn't been a year yet since theirs has passed. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? So, you can't hang around or fucking talk to me for 3 months because my father hasn't died from this fucking shitty cancer? THAT'S YOUR PSYCHO REASON? And I was also told that I needed to back up and analyze myself before giving advice after posting on FB (aka the downfall of humanity and accountability of action and words) that I thought some people needed psych evals and I needed to remove them from my life. Now, that was something I posted, but it was directed at the shitty 20 year olds that bitch about their parents not buying them what they want or that they can't afford that new $45 bra from Victoria's Secret they want and THOSE are the bitches I dropped out of my life. 2 weeks after that I dropped all of the "Unknowns" and acquaintances off my friends list, then in another week or 2 I dropped the rest of the people I didn't feel needed to know what was going on with my father. Then I waited another week after other updates to see if there were many that inquired about how he was dealing with chemo or how his walking was doing or how the rest of us were coping with the newest clusterfuck that was happening before deleting the long time, some life long, friends and relatives that didn't seem to give a rats ass about the situation. They were in the LAST group. That was 1 full month, maybe a little longer AFTER the treatments began. AFTER the phones calls where I left messages, emails and texts when I said I just needed someone to talk to and listen to me vent because I couldn't hold it together on my own. You know how many people responded to any of that? DO YOU? 3, maybe. 3 fucking people out of the 30 or so I thought could be half way decent fucking humans and bother to check on my dad or answer when I call or call when they got my unintelligible sobbing voicemail. Got news for you, neither of those 2 were any of those 3. 1 of them was my mother, so technically it doesn't count, because we were kind of returning the same messages and calls to each other that we were making.
So I ask you this, if you were to have a friend, close or even half way between friend and acquaintance that was dealing with something you'd gone through recently and you were scared because it fucked you all up, would you just walk away and carry on knowing they had no one else other than family that was also dealing with it? What about if you had lost your mother to liver cancer 2 years prior and a friend you've known for 20 years calls and tells you that their mother has stage 3 cancer and has been given 6 months to live? Would you say "Oh so sorry, gotta run, hope it turns out alright. I'll wear a bracelet (that millions of others wear) and write their name on a piece of paper." cause it's awkward and upsetting and then just walk away from the people you grew up with? Or would you be a fucking human and at least call that person, or their parent who's dealing with the disease, just to see how things are going and ask if they wanna go have a drink or wanna go beat the shit out of something to get the anger out?
Would you be jealous and angry, at almost 30, because they still had a parent and yours had passed and use that as a reason not to be a friend?
WHAT THE FUCK? Apparently I'm the asshole cause you hurt me by walking away, but I didn't take into account that it's kinda rubbing it in your face that my Dad's LIVING with cancer, while it took yours. Sorry about that. Next time I'll remember that before I talk to anyone who's lost a parent, child, sibling or spouse about anything I'm dealing with, no matter how long I've known them. After all, why should I be upset or scared since they're at least still hear? I'll wait until they're gone before I bother you with my negativity and harsh your buzz again with my unreasonable fears.
Assholes.
Some of this may sound childish on my part, but I'm pissed off, my feelings are hurt and I have nothing to loose my anger on today but this cyber-notebook.
Hope your night was better than mine and I hope your enemies aren't half as dickish as my "friends".
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