The plug has been pulled

"I agree it's over"

News, news and more news...

Ok, so here's the situation (and you'll have to forgive the 'history' lesson, but I'm learning it's easier to tell the whole story so I don't have to go back and fill in the 'have you done this yet' questions.  Last January I got insurance w/ Wallace & Graham after being out of work for about 10 months.  I immediately made appointments for all the "maintenance" (dentist, physical, mammogram, etc.) things I hadn't been able to do since Epixtar closed.  I expected to be told the diabetes was out of control (which it was) but I didn't expect the abnormal pap smear (indications of HPV; should clear up on it's own - very common she says).  My doc insisted it was probably nothing but wanted to do a colposcopy just to be sure.  Two long weeks of waiting but it came back clear; I had instructions to come back in 6 months to repeat the pap.  

Unfortunately 2 weeks later I was let go & that was the end of my insurance.  Fast forward another 8 months of unemployment & DSS "suggests" I apply for the charity program sponsored by NorthEast (I "made" too much in unemployment to qualify for any other programs - go figure).  Again I'm going in with the intention of getting the diabetic meds back on track & my doc reminds me that I never came back in for the pap.  Hey while you have this coverage (pays for office visits but I have to pay for the tests - which aren't exactly cheap either) might as well do a full work up while you can she says.  

...and wouldn't you know it, this pap comes back abnormal as well.  Since it's the second one she wanted me to go see a GYN specialist (never had a specialist in my life).  This doc is really nice, reassuring, answers all the questions... but she's still a specialist you know?  Last Thurs (24th) she did another colpo & biopsy and Friday am I got the phone call - it wasn't as she would have liked.  Today I met with her to go over the results & what's next.  She's diagnosed me with mild dysplasia and wants me to go to NorthEast (Evidently I didn't "handle the pain/discomfort" of the colpo & biopsy as well as most (LOL - told you guys I don't DO pain) so she wants me to be more relaxed - mentioned Valium???) for a LEEP procedure.   Penny has graciously agreed to take me next Thursday (2/14) and make sure I get home in one piece. The plan is to go in, remove the abnormal cells, send them to pathology and hope they don't come back cancerous.  Yes she said those words, she's looking for cancer this time.

While I'm at it...let me fill you in on Dad.  Wednesday morning (6:42) I received a phone call from Dad's LifeStation Alert System that he'd been taken to the hospital.  He didn't fall this time, but couldn't get out of bed & stand even with the use of his walker.  He did the right thing by pressing the button and going to the hospital. I spent part of the day trying to find out what was up with him, but he didn't answer his cell as much as I called.  I finally goth through to the ER later that afternoon & was told by the ER charge nurse that she could not give me any information about him (even though I have both a POAs (business & medical)  and I have been on his record for the past 5 years as being the only one to be able to receive information on the phone & I gave the code word) because the EMTs filed a report with Adult Protective Services. She informed me I needed to show up in person (he lives in Norfolk, VA) to receive any information.  I left work, packed a bag and headed home.

I got to DePaul about 10:30 PM, walked in through ER, was given his room number and had no problem going up to see him.  He was surprised to see me, had no idea of the APS filing (or any reason anyone would do it).  I stayed for another 30 minutes and we talked about what info he had on his condition ("they're trying to get the swelling down").   When I got home it took me about 20 seconds to realize why the EMTs felt the need to file the report; it's going to take an act of god to be able to clean this house & make it livable again.  (That's another story and I don't have the time or energy to type it out now.)

Thursday morning's visit was more informative.  He hasn't been taking his meds as prescribed (or at all of that matter).  Since the fall a few months ago he's been in cardiac heart and kidney failure and not taking the diuretics and or the ones that keep his heart beating have caused the fluid around both organs to move to his feet, legs (so much so that he can't stand) and stomach (he looks about 7 months pregnant).  They are doing a cardiac cath tomorrow morning (the same operation the doctor said he wouldn't do unless he stopped drinking ... well we know how that worked out) & of course tons of tests.  I'm probably going to have to at the very least put him in a physical therapy/skilled nursing facility once he's strong enough to leave the hospital and at worse an assisted living facility for the long term. 

The cardiac catherization went as well as could be expected (although for some reason they couldn't go through his wrist as they hoped and had to instead go through his groin).  The good news is that there is no blockage around the valves, etc.  The bad news is that his heart is beating at 25% efficiency & its all because of lifestyle choices.  The cardiologist in no uncertain terms said 1. stop drinking 1. stop using salt 3. take the diuretics & heart meds as prescribed or he will end up back in the hospital sooner than later.  He is basically drowning in his own fluids.  The ICU nurse while he was in recovery said the next thing to look for is "weeping".  The skin can only stretch so far & then the fluid starts seeping out of your skin; looks like little drops of moisture all over your body. 

Unless something else happens (and please don't I can't handle any more) I'm heading back home Sunday morning.  As selfish as it sounds I need to make sure I have a job & get my mind right for this LEEP procedure.  I'm also so far behind with my classes I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to catch up.

Conversations

Disclaimer:  Two-thirds of this post was written weeks ago & has been sitting in the virtual drawer our parents always told us to use before we sent the letter we wrote when we were upset about something.  I fully intended to leave it there until a friend suggested I post it to purge any residual feelings I may have.  I don't know if I believe that or not, but I do know I need to do something to stop kicking myself for wasting so much time (and for what??) yet again.

The Dear Jane email finally came – five moths after he walked out my door essentially never to be seen again.  As overly dramatic as that sounds now; it as close to the truth as I can be without… well sounding overly dramatic. 

After looking for several years he’d just landed not only a full-time job, but one that was in his field (even if not exactly what he is going to school for).  It was perfect and he would have time to continue to study for his Masters while at work.  He came over the weekend before his first day & we hung out just as we’d been doing for the last year and a half.  A little while before he was getting ready to leave there was a “change in the air”.  It wasn’t anything concrete; nothing either of us said/did but I could tell something wasn’t right.  I pressed him to tell me what was wrong but he gave me the same generic answer he gives me when he’s not ready to talk.  Against my better judgment I let him leave.  I had a pretty good idea what was on his mind and I knew I was just going to have to let everything play itself out.  Besides, why worry about it now, we had big plans for the next weekend.

Five months, several forgotten plans made long ago, more canceled dates than I can remember, not to mention more random FB chats about his ex-wife later and the Dear Jane email arrives.

No I wasn’t surprised by the email – no that’s not exactly true.  I was completely taken by surprise that after all this time of complete radio silence on his part he would contact me practically out of the blue.  I will admit to being blindsided by the explanation as to why 1. we wouldn’t work as a couple (although he did finally admit that we had been in a relationship all this time & silly me thought we were doing just fine) or more importantly to me 2. as friends.  WTF?!?!  Seriously??

Believe it or not, I felt like the relationship was over when he left in September; admittedly I did hold out hop we could remain friends.  We promised each other no matter what happened to our relationship we wouldn’t let our friendship go.  What brought us together in the first place was the fact we both understood what it felt like not to have the ‘one’ person you could call in the middle of the night “just because”.  We were friends before we were more than it we were supposed to be friends no matter what. It is pretty difficult for me to realize that the person I felt knew me better than anyone on this planet really didn’t know me at all.  … but here was unmistakable proof in black and white right in front of my face… he really had no clue who I was, what I wanted out of life or what I felt about him—nor did he care.

…oh well… for what it’s worth as the song goes… for once I didn’t disengage…*

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

The other weekend a male friend and I were talking about the Dear Jane email and how much it reminded him of how he felt he was being treated by the woman he was currently interested in.  “She is constantly pushing me away, but then sends me texts saying she misses me, cares about me, and asking me not to give up on her.”  I had to ask if there was the slightest chance she was seeing/or was interested in someone else (yes hindsight is 20/20).  My friend (whom I always tease for being the White Knight) insisted there wasn’t anyone else “but she’s having problems with her ex-husband” he added quickly.

I busted out laughing… “Remember what you told me when I told you I had feelings for         ?”

“But this is different” he laughed.

“How so?”

“Because it’s happening to me!”

…hey if you can’t laugh…

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

The last few days I’ve been getting Facebook messages from my Dad’s son.  (We were never close, but he stopped being my brother when he refused to accept my phone call regarding our mother’s impending death.)  I haven’t seen him in over 20 years and frankly I have no desire to at anytime (I only have him on Facebook in case Dad changes his mind and wants to see him.).

Last year I started getting Facebook messages (I’m starting to think Facebook is EVIL) from friends of his from high school (he was two years behind me), and a woman he used to work with years ago informing me that “something was wrong” with him, that ”he needed his family right now” and/or “I’m extremely worried about him & I was hoping you could put me back in touch with him.”

It was very easy to tell his high school friends basically to f*ck off because they know the majority of what happened years ago.  Hell they probably know more of what went down between him and my parents than I do.  It was this random woman that made my blood boil.  She started telling me about their relationship, how she’d given him money, taken him in…yadda yadda yadda… all because she felt bad for him because his family turned their back on him!  WTH???

She went on to say that according to my former brother, no one bothered to tell him that his mother had cancer and/or had died.  (Since I was the one that told him she was dying from lung cancer & I was the one that tracked his ass down in order to get him home before she died I know that was a lie.)  She went on to tell me that the reason she tracked me down was because the last time she talked to him (he called her) he called to say goodbye because he had an inoperable cancer (what and where he didn’t tell her) and had only been given six months to live.  She was worried because his cell had been turned off and she couldn’t get in touch with him.

That was a year ago… and here he is showing up on my Facebook page asking if I’m ever going to talk to him again.  He still hasn’t explained why he wouldn’t take the phone call when I tracked him down at work to tell him to get his ass on a plane (Dad had a ticket waiting for him, just like he did for me.) and until then I have NOTHING to say to him.  Now that I know he’s been using Mom’s death in this manner …. I can’t think of anything that would put him back in my good graces.

  

*”What You Own” from RENT

Tell Me

Has anyone else noticed that both Hallmark and Victoria's Secrets have a "Tell Me" campaign this season?

If communication is the basis of our society and culture as I learned this semester in class; then why is it so hard for us to communicate with one another?  We have all the tools of the trade, we have the ability and yet there are not one but two advertising campaigns begging for nothing more than for someone to tell us something.  Why is it that the people we claim to be the most important to us still have to ask for us to tell them?  

I admit I'm as guilty (if not more) as the next guy for not letting people know what I'm thinking or feeling, but it's something I'm working on.  I think I will make it one of my resolutions for this year.

I've been thinking...

Two older gentlemen (one white, one black) knocked on my door earlier this afternoon.  When I opened the door the black gentleman stepped up with a friendly grin and said "We've been talking to your neighbors and just wanted to ask (as he pulls a pamphlet out of the back of a "big thick black family type Bible") who do you think controls the world?" 

I smiled back, but instead of giving my usual "I'm not interested answer" (after all I was taught to respect my elders) I asked them where they stood on homosexuality or interracial relationships.  The white gentleman assured me that there wasn't an issue with people of different backgrounds getting to know each other but he was sure I would agree that homosexuality wasn't the same thing. 

...like I said I've been thinking.  Why is it ok for two strangers to knock on my door and try to make me feel like I'm the "bad guy" because I don't believe the same way they do?  And hear me when I say I'm not trying to stir the pot (nor am I disrespecting those who follow a religious doctrine).... remember when "they" said blacks and gays were out recruiting people to "their" way of life?  I've never had either group knock on my door and ask me to join their group.  It hit me that my religious "aversion" may not only be the 'higher power' concept but the exclusivity of the club itself.  

 This week of the year always reminds me of the early days of G.LA.S.S. at Catawba.  Those first couple of years we had no idea what we were doing.  A bunch of misfits looking for a place to belong, to fit in.... each one with their own reason for reaching out to everyone else.  Funny thing, I got involved only because I wanted to help a friend deal with his homosexuality and to my surprise I found myself as co-chair two years in a row.  Me; a straight black woman 10+ years older than everyone else in the group; co-chair of a gay acceptance student group?  How's that for total unconditional acceptance?  We didn't go around trying to get people to join our ranks, we just let everyone know we were around & if they wanted to hang out we'd be there for them. 

Why don't religions work that way?  Why does it feel like I need to change what I believe to be right & true in order to be able to join their group? And if they are 'right' why can't they wait for us to come to the same conclusion and come to them?  I'm just wondering...

Mom 11/18/40 - 11/2/98

Today is the last day I meet with my tutee “A” before she takes her citizenship exam.  She is the first person I’ve tutored since I became a volunteer for the Cabarrus Literacy Council and I have to admit I’m a little nervous for her.  She knows her stuff, but this is an important exam; probably the most important she’ll ever take. 

Before we started she asked me about my Halloween.  I side-stepped the question by just telling her it was quiet and asked her about hers.   She was very excited about passing out candy to the kids; it was the first time she participated fully in this particular American holiday; it’s quite different in her home country.

On Midnight of November 1st for the children and November 2^nd for the adults they gather up the favorite foods, flowers, drinks, etc. take them to the cemetery and leave them around the graves of their deceased family members.  They believe that the spirit of their family member comes to visit the grave, sees the goodies left for them & parties the night away.

So on the eve of the anniversary of Mom’s death I decided to borrow this tradition.  Since I don’t have a gravesite to visit, the World Wide Web will have to do.  Anyone that knew Mom would have no problem naming her favorite drink: coffee. Hot, cold, night or day she was always drinking coffee. I remember when the delivery giants first came up with the stuffed crust pizza Mom & I spent weeks discussing it; did they actually put the cheese in the entire crust or was it just the edge?  how do you put cheese in the crust without it exploding all over the place?  how do you hold the rest of the pizza after you’ve eaten the edge first? … After I couldn’t tell you how many commercials, we finally figured out if we ORDERED the pizza we’d know the answers to all those pressing questions.  Now Mom wasn’t really one for flowers (guess I came by that honestly); she always said that what was the point in spending all that money for something that you could only enjoy for a few days (balloons were a different story though – everyone loves balloons!); but interesting looking plants and/or plants with flowers were a different story.  According to the cute little plastic name tag stuck in the dirt of this strange looking plant it is a Kalanchoe.  I’ve managed to keep the Peace Lily G.L.A.S.S. gave me when she died; why not see if I can do the same for this little guy?

This is always a rough week for me.  It’s strange the things that seem to pop out of nowhere (like the stuffed crust pizza) and the others that seem like they happened yesterday…even after all these years.  It’s almost like my body knows the date before I even look at the calendar.  Funny how A’s cultural tradition makes me smile.

Dad Update #4658

The meeting with social worker Meghan was scheduled for 10:45 am Monday; didn’t get started until a little after 11 and was done about 11:30.  Needless to say both Dad and I felt it was a complete waste of time.  Granted we had no idea what to expect considering neither one of us have been in this position before (hey the last place just said you can go home on “X”) but we thought we might be able to get a couple of answers to those pesky questions (Why was he put on an antidepressant & how long is the recommendation?  Why now is someone “concerned” enough to Xray his neck? Results? What do you mean he needs a CT scan & why hasn’t that been done?); boy were we disappointed.

The social worker Meghan  just wasn’t ready for tag team Huntley.  I’m usually the one that’s over aggressive & insisting on having my concerns answered to my satisfaction, but Dad took the reins on this one & even surprised me.  He started out demanding to know when he was going to be “let out”.  Meghan and Hector (his physical therapist) both thought he was joking but soon figured out that he wasn’t.  Turns out that they won’t release him until they are sure he’ll be safe (understandably) and wanted to know how much of the list given to us during the home visit last month we had accomplished.  Well let’s see… without a release date we can’t set up home help nor can we get a ramp put up so, how about you give me something I can work with.  (No I didn’t say it but I sure as hell wanted to.)

Hector piped up and admitted that the only thing holding him back from being released earlier was that Dad has a problem going from sitting in the wheelchair (which everyone admits is too low for him) to a standing position.  Once he’s standing he’s fine; can walk 50-60 feet with his rollator (walker with the seat).  In other words he’s willing to sign off on him.  So Dad pipes up with “Why did they x-ray my neck?”  I nearly busted out laughing at all the blank faces around the conference table; no one seemed to know.  The day nurse opens up his 5 inch thick chart & reads the x-ray results noticeable changes in vertebral discs & admits that it didn’t make sense to her especially since they didn’t have anything to compare to.  *SIGH*

So after this meeting I dumped Dad off in his room & got to work.  I headed over to HomeInstead & signed him up.  They were very friendly and informative (brought up some things that I hadn’t thought of) and even suggested that they go over and talk to Dad.  That way he would have a veto option & wouldn’t feel like everyone was making decisions for him. Wow… that impressed me big time.  (Thanks Micki for the recommendation.)  While I was talking to Steve at Home Instead he suggested a company on Military Hwy (in the old Alpha Music building) that can do the ramp; off I went.

Not only were they willing to work with me (in the rain & on a holiday no doubt) they came out to the house did the measurements & gave us an estimate in about two hours.  (Dad said “Damn I should have let you and Sam do it.”)  Yeah, it’s not going to be cheap but at this point he doesn’t have much of a choice anymore; it’s got to be done. 

Dad’s release date is set for Monday.  I have mid-terms Wednesday & Thursday (including the 3 hour BIO on SCC campus that I’m freaking out about) and a research paper/speech to write for class Thursday night so it’s going to be another drive-by visit home.  But the good news is that he’s getting out of that blasted place.