On the Run

We went to Vermont and I didn't find it as upsetting as I expected. What surprised me was how hard Dad's loss hit me when we got back home. Like, "What, he's not back yet?" I had a pretty good time on vacation but I wonder if things weren't bothering my more than I acknowledged. I couldn't breathe. I have had, in the past, stress-induced asthma. (When I said this in front of my cousin's new boyfriend, he said"What do you have to be stressed about, you're on vacation?!" But he's young and new to the family so I let it pass) I found that, when I was running, I could breathe. I don't know if it was because I expected to have to work harder to get a full breath or that my body was working more efficiently or that my stress was lower. Or that I'm just completely nuts (I did say to the nurse at the medical center, "What I probably need is a shrink and some Zoloft but I'll take an antihistamine.") . Oddly, when we got to my best friend. Meme's, house in the Great North Woods, I was fine. The wine and martinis may have helped.

Do you remember the movie Real Genius? A classic Val Kilmer film from the 80's. Whenever I mention running to Meme, she states, "I only run when chased" in homage to Val. This used to always be my answer too. And, to be truthful ,it still is. But now I feel like I'm being pursued.
By weight.
By age.
By vanity.
By genetics.
By death.
But mostly, by Fear.

I don't think I can outrun the inevitable, but, damn it, I'm going to give it a shot. I'm not going without a fight. I'm afraid of getting sick, of slowly slipping away from myself, of not being around for my son, of the unknown. It is pursuing me. I am compelled. I remember how I felt 30 pounds ago, and I didn't like it. I didn't recognize myself. Now, when I look in the mirror, I know that woman in there. I don't want her to disappear.

Birthday Blues

Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't know that I've ever felt less like celebrating it. I normally love my birthday. But it doesn't feel like my birthday this year. Today I had a mini celebration with my younger sister, the wife, Mom and the Boy. (Dad always called the girls The Pigeon Sisters, from The Odd Couple. So I'll be referring to the them as Cecily and Gwendolyn, just to make my life easy.) My sister, Cecily, makes great French toast with powdered sugar and that was on our menu today. They wanted to do a little something so my day wouldn't pass unacknowledged. Which was very sweet of them. I think it was prompted by the following exchange:

Gwendolyn: (reading a sticky note stuck to Mom's cabinet) Annie birthday 7/21. Is this so she won't forget?
Me: yes.
Gwendolyn: Oh, I'm so sorry.

So we went to their beach place, ate, swam in the pool and had a very nice day. We've all been getting along. I'm all for calm seas.

Tomorrow, Mom and I and the Boy will have dinner with my aunt and uncle. Same thing-dinner, cake, little gifts. And I appreciate that everyone wants to make it a nice day for me. I just feel too blues for the whole thing.

We leave on Saturday for Vermont. My brother in law already came by to pick up Dad's boat to prep it for the trip. The driveway looks empty and forlorn without it. The distribution of possessions has begun and it freaks me out. It's just weird to see the empty spaces around the house. Mom cleaned off Dad's dresser and it just looks so strange. I didn't expect her to keep everything here as a shrine but I guess I didn't think things would change yet. I don't know why. Vermont is going to be really hard. I think part of the hard part is that, again, I won't have any time alone. I think living away from everyone with a husband who deploys has made me a bit of a loner. I feel like I need some privacy and alone time, especially when I'm stressed. I have a feeling the sum total of my alone time will be on my runs. Which I may just take every day. I know I'm supposed to be drawing support from my family, but I'm somehow finding it hard to do.

Another Holding Pattern

Now that Dad has picked up another bacterial infection, he's stuck in the hospital. The good news is that the Hickman cath seems fine. And his kidneys are stable. But he isn't getting better. My cousins who came today were floored. My Mom said they had to leave Dad's room sobbing. They all looked a little pole-axed when they came back by the house. I don't know that any of them really understood just how sick he is. You always think you are prepared, but you can't be. And as Mom pointed out, none of them had ever really seen him sick before. I think tomorrow is going to be tough as well. My favorite cousin is in denial, I think. He's been to visit, and I've been keeping him posted, but it is different to see Dad in person.



This week has been a tough one for me. I find myself crying more often, mostly in the car and at night. It's this great, sucking, black hole. Sometimes my boy unwittingly triggers it with a statement or question, "When Papa comes home, we'll have to be quiet so he can rest.", "When Pap gets better, we can go see the fire trucks." I don't know how I'm going to explain this to him. I know he's going to keep asking questions that break my heart. He still asks where the dog is. The dog died in October. I'm starting to think Papa isn't ever going to get home from the hospital. How can it be that he and my baby will never see each other again?

Vermont is out of the question now. Dad is just too sick. If he's home, I won't be going either. I'll have someone else use my cabin. I don't know if Dad is even thinking about Vermont, but somewhere in there, I know he knows that he's not going to get there. I keep getting stuck on the "never agains." I know Dad wants the family to still go, even if he cannot. But part of me is wondering if even that will happen.

I am also missing my husband this week. He called his Dad to congratulate him on his retirement the other day. He'd been up almost 24 hours trying to troubleshoot a problem. Now, I did remind him in an email of the date, but he went to the trouble to call his father, despite all that was going on by him. And it reminded me again why I love him and what a good man he is. And it made me miss him.

I also relearned an important lesson about making assumptions. I was a bit put out that I had not heard anything from our XO's wife. She didn't even reply to an email I'd sent about her son being hospitalized with pnemonia. I thought I'd at least get a reply. So, this week I rsvp-ed to an invitation and told her I'd obviously not be making the event but hoped they'd all have a lovely time. She sent me back a lovely email saying she knew I couldn't come but wanted to include me. She also said she wanted to thank me for emailing about her son weeks ago, that since then he'd been diagnosed with Reactive Airway Disorder and has had a collapsed lung. So now I feel terrible that I thought she was just blowing me off. I'm also wondering why no one else mentioned it to me before now. Seems like news that would bear repeating. Moral of the story-never assume.

And this entry from Mimi Smartypants actually made me laugh out loud. I wish the Trader Joe's guy had a blog so we could see his take.

Looking Ahead

Mom started to gather information on hospice today. Apparently, they like to keep people home now with caretakers coming in as needed. Mom wanted to know if I was comfortable with this and I told her I am. I just want to make sure we have the people or the skills for all that needs to be done. I don't want a situation to go bad because I'm untrained.

They are going to install a new PICC line tomorrow for Dad. We'll continue with the IV nutrition as we have been doing. They discussed a port in his chest but his doctor feels like that is way too invasive and that he isn't really strong enough. Dad's kidneys are starting to struggle. They did a sonogram today and we're waiting for results. His legs are all swollen and the drugs have been building up in his system. We we went on Father's Day, he was really disoriented. We found him at the desk asking about his credit card, which he believed he had given to the nurse to pay for something. He wasn't all that able to focus on our gifts or what we were telling him. He be good for a few sentences and then fade out. Plus he was exhausted. I guess the pain meds clear through his kidneys and now nothing is really flushing. So he was very foggy and confused. Mom and I both said he hadn't somehow counted on his loosing his place like that. We expected pain and sickness, but we assumed he'd know what was going on. Mom said he was near comatose today when she got there and so they held off the next few rounds of meds. The nurse was concerned and keeping a close eye on him. Mom said later, when he woke up, he was much more like himself. They had the news on and he wanted to be sure I got everything here squared away before the big storm hit. I'm hoping they'll be able to make a decision about his kidneys tomorrow and move on it.

When Dad got his diagnosis, he said the only thing he really wanted to do was to get to Vermont one more time. We have the big family vacation/reunion planned again this summer at the end of July. The woman who owns the cabin they've been renting for years is heartbroken that Dad is sick. She lost her husband last year. She told us that the cabin was open and unrented all of June so if he could make it up then, we should just go. We've been talking it out the last week or so. We talked about maybe renting or borrowing an RV so he could lay down for the trip and be comfortable. Once of the nurses that Mom knows personally offered to come along and help. We know we could ask any fireman, friend, or family member for help or to come along. But as the days pass, it looks less likely. Dad's doctor has been his doctor for years- he was my Dad's mother's doctor. He is really upset about Dad. Throughout this ordeal, he's come to visit Dad in the hospital almost every day, even when he wasn't directly involved in any of his care, just to see him. He told my Mom he wants to stay positive but he wants to be honest too. He hates the thought of Dad not getting to Vermont again, but he really doesn't think it is going to be possible. There are just too many problems. And we don't want to pile into an RV and embark on an hours long trip and then have an emergency.

I've been thinking about the trip for weeks. Especially if we'd gone in June, because it would only have been my folks and I (and maybe the nurse). The thought of being there for Dad to say goodbye to the lake, knowing he was saying goodbye, absolutely breaks my heart. But the thought of him not getting that chance is even worse. It's so unfair. I wish he could be well enough to go with all of us. Then it might feel like one last party rather than a final farewell. But I really don't think he's going to get to go at all. And I think he probably knows it.

Father's Day was awful for so many reasons. I don't know if it was worse that he didn't seem to grasp what was going on. I don't supposed it would have been any easier sharing a last Father's Day if he was crystal clear. It's the first Father's Day I've spent with him in years. I wish it could have been better.

Last year, when I got the five-day migraine on my birthday I thought, "Next year's birthday has got to be better." I had no idea how wrong I was. When I was a high school senior, my boyfriend's brother committed suicide at college in February. His mother, who had been battling cancer for 9 years, gave up. By spring she was in hospice, by summer she was gone. She was buried on my birthday. I think I may be replaying that summer. In all the exact same locations. I know that someday I'll have a happy birthday again, but I don't think they'll ever be the same.