skip to main |
skip to sidebar
I am a dust speck...
It was hard to talk in The Place, and that's all they wanted me to do...talk talk talk all the time. How did this make me feel, how did that make me feel, and what did I think about that?
And god forbid I slipped and said something personal...they latched on to that like a dog with a bone.
For some reason they kept going back to my childhood, wanting to talk about me growing up with an alcoholic father.
It took a very long time for me to even admit that much about my family... and going into detail about it? NO. NEVER.
But they just kept at me, and kept at me.
Denial is a funny thing. I always knew, objectively, that my family was different. When my dad was out in the field, my mom, my brother and I breathed easy - we were happy. It wasn't like that when my dad was home.
So even when my dad missed my high school and college graduations, and several birthdays, and dropped off the face of the earth for a few years - even then, I still couldn't quite admit to myself that there was a problem.
And then one December he showed up again, terribly skinny, full of apologies as usual, but this time, with a different story, something about crack cocaine.
I distinctly remember now how my mind skipped right over that part. I understand now - that's how denial works. You hear it, you can even repeat it back to someone, but you don't really believe it.
The next month, in January 2001, my grandmother received a phone call from my uncle. He was at the University Hospital trauma center downtown, and he was calling because my father had been shot.
My brother, sister-in-law, Dwayne and I rushed downtown to the hospital. Uncle Gary met us down there...he had no idea how it happened. We were sitting in the E/R waiting room when the detectives came in.
One of the detectives said, "Do you know anything about your father and his association with A? Your father was found with This Substance in his possession."
That's when my world came crashing down. I don't remember anything else the detectives said. I didn't care what they said. I was broken. I had just come to the realization that my father was an alcoholic and a drug addict.
So you'd think after an epiphany like that, something would change, right? But nothing did, really, except for maybe my perception of my world.
I sat in the hospital room for days, waiting for my dad to wake up. It took a very long time. The doctors said it took longer than it should have because they had to keep him sedated due to dt's.
My brother and I had a visit while we were waiting...from Al-Anon. It seems everyone but me knew my father had a problem. They gave us literature. I was very excited but John said he wasn't going to any groups. Oh.
When my dad woke up, I told him about all the people who had visited and all the things they said. I explained his body was clean now and the hardest part, the dt's, was over.
My dad said he wasn't an alcoholic, he could quit whenever he wanted. He said he knew what an alcoholic was, because his father was one, and he was nothing like him. Oh.
So now my dad has a bullet lodged in his back, but he's otherwise recovered. We rarely talk. It's hard to talk to someone on the phone when their speech is so slurred from drinking you can't understand what they're saying.
My brother outright refuses to speak with my father at all. I've forgiven dad for what happened in our childhood. I don't think my brother ever will.
I don't know why The Place wanted to hear things like this. It's my story, but not really. It was just a turning point in my life...when the scales fell from my eyes and I saw some things as they really were.
I'm still probably blind in a lot of other areas.
am i falling for this again?...
i put my heart and soul into an entry, clicked save, and it disappeared into aol no man's land...
what was it about? something about the cast and stitches on my hand, and how it's affected my typing ability, and how i'm using my hand anyway even though i'm not supposed to and even though it hurts really bad, and we had major drama today and i'm tired of it and i'm having trouble getting out of bed, and how i'm falling into a deep black hole of depression again even though my medicine is supposed to prevent that and that might be a clue that it might need to be changed, and i ran out of heart medicine and oh yeah i was going to go back to bed and get under the covers and not come out again until things got much much better
and then of course my plans got foiled by stupid aol losing my stupid entry.
so i restarted my computer, took a walk into the living room and rescued my kitty and put her where she belongs (you know, in bed with me)
and wrote this
and whether this one works or not, I really am going to sleep now. Tomorrow's Father's Day and we have to honor my grandpa. I also have to call my dad. Father's Day makes me uncomfortable for my daughter's sake...she doesn't have a father, never has had one...I don't know how she feels about it. I feel terrible about it.
I'm working myself up to making a meaningful entry...I've been doing fluff for so long, I don't know if I can remember how to do anything else...but I'm working up to it.
It's unfortunate that the first time I've been clear-headed since Thursday has to be at 3:21 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Well, I'm not really clear-headed, since I'm actually still kind of stopped up, but at least my nose isn't running and I'm not in a medicated fog (that Tylenol Nighttime Flu medicine packs quite a punch!).
I was still the walking dead Friday night...fell asleep on the couch...I had to wake up, give my daughter her medicine, tuck her in bed, fell back asleep, woke up Saturday morning with my daughter complaining she was sick...me thinking, "I know that, you've been sick for months"...and then she threw up in the bathroom..."Oh, that kind of sick."
So all day my poor baby ran a fever and had nausea...and then, about six p.m., it's like a switch turned off and she started feeling better. I don't know what it was, but thank goodness it's over.
We went to my aunt's birthday party today at my grandma's house...which my daughter missed all of as she went upstairs to 'her' room as soon as we got there and slept the whole time. It was a great party, for once...no family arguments, no one got mad at anyone else and left...no one made anyone else cry. It was great! Probably I enjoyed it so much because I wasn't actually there, I spent most of the time upstairs watching my daughter sleep, because the minute I tried to leave 'her' room she would wake up and say, "Mommy? Where are you?" LOL It's like she knew I was trying to go and get some birthday cake!
My dad bought me a new scanner for Christmas, and I finally opened the box tonight...I think I might hook it up tomorrow. It's actually a scanner/printer/copier, so, last weekend, I set up my daughter's computer in her room, and hooked up my old printer in there. I think I've mentioned before, she is ARTSY, you should see what she's creating in paint and printing out! I tried to tell her, print cartridges are expensive...(sigh)...I guess I know who's going to buy the new cartridges...I'll tell my boyfriend to get right on that! LOL!
Friday night, I was sooo sick and miserable, and D came in and brought us supper, and he had bought me a bouquet of flowers...red roses and yellow and pink and purple flowers (I don't know what the other ones were)...but they were oh so pretty and so unexpected!
I couldn't even smell their pretty fragrance, because, you know, I couldn't breathe, but it was so sweet...
I'm going to try and go to sleep, now...
Good night.
My phone line has been messed up for a couple of weeks now.
And it wouldn’t matter at all, at all, to those of us who hate talking on the phone…
Except that I still connect to AOL by modem…and it takes me at least five tries to get connected…and I haven’t been able to stay online long enough to get through my emails without getting kicked off…and I’ve pretty much given up visiting any journals until my phone line is fixed, because by the time I’ve pulled up a page, the line has kicked me off again.
I’m writing this offline and then I’m going to try to post it QUICK, just in and out!, so we’ll see if it works…
The phone company, whom we called way back before the new year (!) started, is supposed to come out tomorrow and fix it.
Today was first day of classes at U of L…and by some miracle, I managed to get my stuff together and make the right phone calls and get the right info and actually get registered, as opposed to last semester!
So, I took the day off from work to get all this stuff done. The last thing to do was my daughter’s doctor appointment at 4:00 p.m. The plan was to leave the doctor, go on down to U of L, and my mom would meet me down there so she could get my daughter, since my class started at 5:30 p.m. and I wouldn’t have time to take C anywhere else.
Except that my mom got caught in traffic and couldn’t meet me after all. I had to take my 12-year old with me on my first day of school.
LOL! You had to be there…I sat her down in the study area right outside my class, with a Happy Meal for supper, her GameBoy for entertainment, and my cell phone in case she got nervous.
On the walk back to the car after class was over, she had lots of questions about college and what kind of classes you could take. I told her that she could take whatever she wanted within the requirements of the major that she chose…she immediately said, "Well, MY major is going to be ART."
::groan::
Even though I cringed, I didn’t say a word about Art degrees and the possibilities for gainful employment…after all, who am I to talk, with the degree I already have in Philosophy (and no philosophical jobs to be found!)? J
All in all, though I was a little apprehensive about taking her with me, it turned out to be a fine evening!
P.s. Ear update: the ear wick worked great for a few days but then didn’t fall out, instead it slipped down inside her ear and now is blocking the medicine from going on. She’s back to itching and pain and yet another doctor appointment tomorrow. That ENT appointment on the 24th can’t come fast enough!
P.p.s My dad called me this evening…he has a house up in Southern Indiana on the White River where all the terrible flooding was…I felt really bad after I talked to him because I WONDERED why he hadn’t called me…turns out he had gone up there to check on the house then got trapped by the rising water all around the area and was stuck through the weekend until some people on a boat came and picked him up and took him to dry land. It’s a house on stilts (well, not really on stilts, but you know what I mean, built up real high) because it’s on the river, and the water STILL came up three feet into the first floor of the house. I’m so thankful he made it home okay!
Dad took this picture from the roof area of the house:
It's 3:10 a.m. Why am I still up?
Well, it's because I went to see the 'Spiderman 2' late show (great movie! go see it!), and then, when I got home, I jumped at the chance to use my first free time in a couple of days to journalize.
The world is not going well for my dad's side of the family. My mom's side is still pretty intact. Fragmented v. whole, and also redneck southern city v. transplanted country folk. And that's me in the middle. The only Philosophy major/space geek/quiet one of the bunch. I never quite fit in, but they forgave me for that when I produced my daughter, whom both sides adore.
So when my dad gave me Friday's update, I've cried and haven't been good for anything...Why is it that when one thing goes bad, they all go bad? My dad was busy all week long with the traumas of his sister and two brothers, my aunt and uncles.
One uncle's issue this week is jail (he's the black sheep), and the other one's is divorce (after 25 years of marriage). (Don't go thinking my dad's the trauma-free one, as he is the one who ended up in the hospital a few years ago with a gunshot wound. He drove himself to the E/R. That's a tough military man for you. It will take quite a long time for him to live that one down.)
But it was the update on my aunt that stopped me. The cirrhosis of the liver was caused by...hepatitis, after all. I don't know how the hospital said that she didn't have it, and now she does. But she does. We don't know how. She did work in a hospital for years and years, so maybe that's how? The other news is that she only has about 20% of her liver that is actually functioning.
I had so many questions. What does 20% functioning mean? Is that good or bad? How long can it function like that? Will it get worse?
She goes back to the specialist this week and then we'll know more.
My cousins still hadn't told my aunt, either, about any of it. All they have told her now is that something MAY be wrong with her liver and she is going to need more tests. My dad is going out there to tell her the truth. I know that the reason my aunt doesn't know yet is because my cousin, who acts as interpreter, just cannot tell her. I can't imagine having to be the one to do it. I'm glad that it's going to be my dad, who's known and loved her the longest...
"Life is a joy, and a privilege." My preacher said that this week. He is over 70 years old, and lost his beloved wife of over 50 years to cancer, a year ago this week. He is still ministering to people, still reminding people of what's important. He's still reminding people of how to LIVE.
Life is a joy, and a privilege.
Not a very fun day...
When I got home from work this evening, my dad called me. He was upset with me, because he had been leaving me voicemails since yesterday and I hadn't called him back, and it was bad...my aunt is in the hospital. Not the same aunt that was in the hospital a few weeks ago, this time it's my dad's sister.
I haven't been listening to my messages lately.
My aunt went to the hospital with pains. They thought it was her heart, and so they did a heart cath. Her heart was fine. Then they thought it was her gallbladder. She had her gallbladder removed this morning. During the surgery, they saw her liver.
They came out of the surgery, saying everything went fine, but...
And they showed my cousin, my aunt's middle daughter and my best friend, a picture of my aunt's liver.
They said, "Your mother will have to stop drinking. We're going to schedule some programs for her...".
She has cirrhosis of the liver.
The doctors didn't know then that my aunt doesn't ever drink.
And they didn't know that those were the only words that had the ability to put my family in a tailspin and strike fear in our hearts.
My aunt's dad, my grandfather, died of cirrhosis of the liver. He actually was an alcoholic. He hemorrhaged to death in his apartment. It was...terrible. Terrible.
My aunt doesn't drink. She doesn't have hepatitis. But she has cirrhosis of the liver. It may not be that advanced, and it may be manageable. We'll know more when the real doctor comes in tomorrow.
But the gut reaction of my family was the reaction of a family who has already been torn apart by this disease. My dad, sobbing over the phone, wondering why his sister, who has never done anything wrong, has this. My uncle, hovering in the hallway. My cousins, disbelieving and in tears.
They haven't told my aunt yet. She was devastated when my grandpa died the way he did. My cousins decided she wasn't in any condition, after her surgery today, to hear this. I don't agree with their decision, but there's nothing I can do about it. I felt horribly guilty sitting by her bed and knowing something she didn't.
I hope that tomorrow the doctor will come in and say, this is not as bad as that, this can be managed...
I just didn't realize that the pain of my grandfather's violent death, over fourteen years ago, still had the ability to destroy us this way.
Wow, Tuesday's storm has nothing on tonight's. My electricity is in imminent danger of going out any time now. There's been at least four confirmed tornado touchdowns in the area so far. And the line of storms keep coming.
I was at the Y and was watching the storm's progression the whole time on the TVs there. It started out up in Indiana so I figured I had time before it got to Louisville. Then I lost track of time and when I came back around with four machines left, the line of storms was at the river.
I quickly whipped through my last sets, ran to the teen room, collected my daughter, and we ran to the car. It wasn't raining yet, but there was a very black ugly wide mass of clouds to the north.
When I got to the car I had about a million calls on my cell phone. In addition to my grandmother (just like last time), this time also my mom, my dad, and my boyfriend had all called me to see why I wasn't at home. They always do that...I know they love me, but sometimes I wonder why they don't call my brother and bug him like the way they bug me. Not sure why there's a difference there, but there is...
So I thought I'd make it home before we got hit, but by the time I was driving by the southwest side of the park leaves and sticks were flying through the air. Then I got to the north side of the park where it's not sheltered by hills and things were crazy. Everyone was stopped on the side of the road but I was too close to home to stop now!
So despite the wind and the rain, we made it home safely, again. It's becoming hazardous to go out in my city anymore!
My poor dad up in Indiana didn't fare so well...his electricity is out, and a tree fell on his car. He's very grumpy right now.
I think I'll go now before I hear the tornado sirens, and not after.
