Walking Through Mud

Published on by cmglife

Please excuse me if I my post is incoherent. I’m half-drunk with the wine I’ve been drinking since 10pm. I didn’t start out planning to get drunk. I was just trying to wait out my family in order to get some peace and quiet.

Oldest visiting daughter, Emily, went to bed at 10pm. Allison, the youngest, wanted to stay up until midnight. I let her stay up. Just as the ball dropped my husband came home!

After discussing the recent death of my mother, he wanted to know why there wasn’t a funeral. She didn’t want one.

He wanted to know why there wasn’t an obituary. She didn’t want one.

Why don’t I print up some photos and have them at the “Memorial”? She didn’t want that.

It’s hard enough trying to wrap my mind around what has happened in the last two weeks let alone try to experience it with someone who doesn’t understand the nuances and complications of my mother’s and my relationship.

It’s actually pretty simple to me, I loved her and I miss her already.

My Mum

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My mum died yesterday. I saw her body and the realization fell on me. She’s really not here anymore. I feel scared. That’s the last feeling I thought I’d feel. I’m a grown woman with a family of my own and I’m scared my mother isn’t here anymore. What if I need her?

Never Agains

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I am crocheting and thinking.  I crochet a dish cloth for my sister once every three or four years.  This one is a reddish pinkish color.  I contemplate whether it is a tomato or real red while my mother lies dying in her hospital bed.   All I have done the last three days is think.  I stare and think.

Someone said to me the other day when they found out that my mother was dying,

“Well, we all have to go through it don’t we?”

“No, “we” don’t”, I thought, “You have know idea how I am feeling. My mother isn’t like yours.  She is amazing, smart, funny, interesting. She makes you feel like you are the only one in the world that matters.”

I’ve been like this all week.  Anything someone says I take it as a personal affront.  Everything is just trivial now.  Bills, work, going the speed limit, laundry.

Does everyone feel like this when their mother dies?  I had no idea.  I was always sympathetic, but I had no idea it was so debilitating emotionally.  The sadness is almost overwhelming.

All those “never agains” just keep piling up in the back of my mind.

Terminal Diagnosis

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My mom was diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer today and I want to rewind time to last Saturday when life was trivial.

We have had rocky times especially in the last fifteen years or so.  When I talk to her now in between her dementia and pain she is the sweet, funny, smart mother that she often wasn’t.  I am grateful that I can at least get that mother now.  Of course, that is what makes it even more poignant.

All that wasted time.

Stunned

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When I talk to my dad it feels like he is trying to protect me from the truth. I know he knows what it may be, but says it’s not smart to speculate, so he doesn’t tell me. He must understand how impossible it is for the human brain not to speculate when only given bits and pieces of information, not enough to form a complete picture. I know he is speculating, against his will, but he is speculating.

We were supposed to know last Tuesday and then on Thursday. All I have to rely on are quick cryptic text messages from my dad as the information trickles in from the medical professionals. In the meantime we are all looking up symptoms on WebMD and the Mayo Clinic website. Speculating.

Friday she ended up in the hospital, but was released and is now convalescing on my dad’s couch.

Monday. That is the day the labs come back.

Scared? Sad? My head is spinning, maybe I am just stunned. My mother used to be as strong as a horse physically. I never thought of her as old. My dad said he used to refer to her as an ant, carrying more than her body weight. Now she is so small and thin. Her hair is snow white and her skin is almost see through.

Our relationship has always been quite on and off. I had an old post that said how much it hurt when she stopped sending me birthday cards, but lately she has been trying so, of course, I welcomed her back with open arms.

I’m afraid she may have waited too long to come back and now she’ll be gone again.

Reading Too Far

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I’ve allowed to myself to read too many disturbing things on the news today.

It’s one of those times where your co-worker is on her computer and exclaims “Oh my God!”.

You immediately start to read over her shoulder of something that happened to some poor child. The headline is bad enough, but you find yourself reading into the article. This time your protection mechanism fails and you read too far. You finally realize this when your eyes fill up or a chill goes down your spine.

You have read too much.

You turn away and think about it into the next day.

Do Not Mix With Alcohol

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Who ever really pays attention to that warning anyway? I never did, until today.

With the amazing amount of prescription medication I am on to handle my Bipolar II condition and the fact I have sleep apnea, many phobias and anxiety it’s surprising I can function at the high level I do.

Here we are today, falling asleep while driving long distances. Oh, yes it is bad. I have what I like to call “micro sleeps” on a three lane highway in traffic. My doctor says to pull over, but it won’t make any difference. After all I do have to get home eventually.   It is pretty scary. I spend a trip slapping my face, shaking my head, windows open, tapping my leg, singing or talking to myself. Nothing works. So I decided it must be part of my sleeping disorder, sleep apnea.

I thought I had fixed it with a cpap machine, but I couldn’t “tolerate” it. That is the medical terminology. They couldn’t find a mask small enough to seal to my face. The mask would “blow out” during the night and wake me up. Constantly, all night long. The next thing was a mouth guard. This was no piece of plastic found on the internet for snoring, mine is truly bionic. It fits really well and should for the price of a small car.

I went back to a sleep specialist to see if there is anything I can do with this new phenomenon of falling asleep while driving (if truth be told I can fall asleep almost anywhere at any time). He suggested a sleep study, but in the meantime he would give me a prescription for a medicine to take before driving long distances. The first time I took it in the morning and I was up until 1am. I broke it in half the next time and it worked wonderfully. Now today I took it in the morning and made it to my sister’s, about an hour away. I’ve used about 6 tablets in the last three months so I figured I knew how it worked. What I didn’t calculate into the equation was a visit to my ailing mother (a story for later) and when I got to my sister’s I needed a glass of wine. I had one at about 2:30 and ended up not being able to drive home until around 6:30!

My sister said I was just freaking myself out, but the alcohol hit me hard! After two glasses of water and two cups of coffee I managed to get my wits about me and drive home. It turned out I was just fine, Ellen was right; I had been freaking myself out.

I wondered how I would begin to explain my situation if I got pulled over. I was not drunk or under the influence of any kind. Is being paranoid a ticketable offense?

Favorite Christmas

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We’re having a favorites Christmas this year so I’m finding out what each person’s favorite foods are. There are some parameters, I am assigning them a food group; appetizer, hors d’oeuvres,  dessert, etc.  Everyone has given in to my wonderful Christmas tradition except my daughter Emily. I told her she was either with us or against us. I’m sorry but I had to get tough. She finally picked sticky toffee pudding and was quite put out until she realized that Aunty Ellen would make it.

No one knows it yet, but I am putting together a slideshow of everyone’s favorite music and play it on the TV during our Christmas celebration. I know in the past there has been a little resistance to my music. Maybe they just like giving me hell, but this should shut them up (Christmas spirit)!

I have been trying to weave the questions “What is your favorite musician?” into conversations. I asked John while we were in Vegas. He said The Zac Brown Band.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked and rolled his eyes.

“ U2, of course, but now I love Adam Lambert as well.”

“Oh yeah, he’s really good.”

What???? Did I actually hear John say he thought Adam Lambert was really good?

He must’ve had too much Vegas and too much to drink and thought I said Miranda Lambert.

Sin City – Day 3 (Last Entry)

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Sin City – Day 3

After lunch on the third day in Vegas, we went down to Fremont Street where I convinced John to try the oxygen “rip off” bar. Then he stood on the huge scale in front of a hamburger restaurant. He weighed in at 216. He looked so dejected that I ran up and took the packages from his hands and he ended up at 206.

On the second day of the dirt track races, I decided not to go and nobody was surprised.  I had the whole night planned.  First I would get a drink and play the slot machines by myself.  Big move for me doing anything by myself, but for some reason I felt confident. Then I would go back up to the room, take a bath, have some wine and do some writing.  I was really looking forward to some alone downtime.

Around six o’clock, everyone left for the races and I began my plan. Before he left, John had bought a margarita for me.  He warned it was strong because he had seen the bartender put two shots of tequila in it.  I drink too fast and eat too fast. So after guzzling the one John got for me, I had another free one the waitress gave me.  Big mistake…. I ended up drunk!  I did make it back up to the hotel room by myself. It was a bit creepy walking down the long lonely “Stanley Hotel” hallway. I made it without being kidnapped or murdered.

When I got into the room I lay down on the bed and passed out!  It was 7pm.

Minding My Own Business

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I was out walking my dog. I have a miniature poodle that lifts his leg on everything during the walk. He’s empty before we make it past our bushes, but yet he continues to try to mark anything and everything if I slow down even in the slightest.

This particular day he lifted his leg on the wrong bush. A disturbingly angry man started yelling at me. It was too loud, too angry and it sent a cold trickle of fear through my center. I turned around to look and an old man was standing inside his house yelling though the living room window. He kept yelling things like; “What kind of person am I that I would let my dog pee on his bush?” and “I’m going to call the police”, etc. I tried to explain he wasn’t peeing, but the man was making so much noise he couldn’t hear me. Finally I turned around and began walking again, using the universal arm wave that says “Whatever”.

It looked like the whole situation was over. And it was to him and anyone else who was listening, but to me it wasn’t. My head was spinning. I cried all the way home. I felt like I had been transported back to my childhood.

I haven’t been able to get myself to go out for a walk since. I try all the self-talk, all the logic, etc. I’ve listened to all the advice.  And I still can’t do it. I will. I know I will, it just might take a little longer this time.  At my age now I’ve realized that sometimes it’s okay to be kind and gentle with myself.