Tonight's picture was taken in September of 2003. Mattie was a year and a half old and a live wire. Though Mattie was walking, he still was toddling around, and he enjoyed playing around my plant stand. The plants, pots, and our cat's cushion (which was high up on the plant stand) intrigued Mattie. As Mattie was checking things out, I snapped a photo of him in action. I am not sure why I was so obsessed with taking photos of Mattie, but I am so thankful that I was. I captured milestones and everyday activities. Mainly because I loved seeing the world through Mattie's lens. He will forever be missed.
Quote of the day: Sometimes you have to let things go. Sometimes you have to stop caring for a minute. ~ Trina Etmanskie
Here's another quote where once again my immediate reaction is........... NO, NOPE, NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! Anyone who has been reading this blog since 2008, knows full well, that I don't let things go. They are a part of me and not for one minute do I stop caring about those who are important to me. It is not what guides, regulates, or defines who I am.
Today was an incredibly long day. We were at the hospital from Noon to 6:30pm. We finally got home at 7pm from my dad's cystoscopy, ureteroscopy, lithotripsy and stent replacement procedure. I had a rocky start with this urologist, but I have come to appreciate him. While in the pre-op area, I had the pleasure of interfacing with Cathy, my dad's nurse. Given that I am my parent's medical power of attorney and power of attorney, hospital personnel tend to deal with me. This nurse asked many questions and quickly surmised I am running a circus show. She could see that I balance both of my parents alone, with no help at home. Cathy then turned to my parents and said to them..... do you know how lucky you are?
Cathy then proceeded to tell me that I need to take care of myself! I personally love these lectures because I naturally know it is true, but it is neither feasible or practical. I told her caregiving was only part of my life right now, but that I would spare her the rest of my heartache. I certainly did not have the energy to tell her about Mattie or the destruction of my 36 year long relationship with my husband. I told her there wasn't enough hours in the day for her to process the pain and hurt I live with.
While my dad was undergoing surgery, I was entertaining my mom. I brought her cocoa, crackers, grapes, popcorn, and chocolate. I felt that would tie us over while waiting. In the process of waiting, my friend from England wrote to me. Remember I met her in an on-line support group. A group that I attended twice and then gave up. But from that group, I got connected to this woman who is living a parallel life to mine. But in England. It is uncanny how similar our issues are and therefore it makes it easy for us to identify and understand the heartache.
Both of us walk and navigate the world in total shock. Mind you she is in year two! We have all the classic signs of having psychological trauma. We both live as if we are broken records, as our needle is stuck in our trauma stories. She was beating herself up today about this, and then I told her my night time routine. Just to help her see she isn't alone. I explained how I go to my bedroom, and immediately head to the window. I sit on Indie's cat perch, and scan for Peter. I continue to hope he shows up and I don't want to miss him. I understand this is not realistic. I understand that most people would say.... snap out of it, or this is not in your best interest. I get all of this, but feelings are not always logical.
The loss is deep and cutting. It defines me, it makes me question my past, and it has decimated my future. But here's the thing. That may sound crazy, but to me it is how the brain, heart, and spirit have to cope and manage with such a traumatic loss. Naturally if my friend and I have these conversations with others, they may not get it. But we get it all too well and we can handle the mixed bag of emotions we are facing each and every day.
Back to my dad's story. When my dad was in phase two of recovery, his nurse called me and told me we could come back and see him. When I walked into his room, he was sitting in a flood of pink urine (blood tinged urine from his procedures). In addition to that he was shivering and freezing. I pressed the nurse's button and got introduced to his post-op nurse! Who was a disaster. She told me she was busy, and couldn't help me. I told her that while she was off being busy, I was going to change my dad and get him cleaned up because this was unacceptable! She walked out of the room. She did send in two other nurses though to help me. I wish I could say her attitude improved over the course of the evening, but it didn't! She handed me his discharge paperwork, and I was left to get my dad dressed. My dad is 185 pounds and coming out of anesthesia. Which meant he was even harder to move and deal with than usual. I managed, got his depends on and all his clothes, and even transferred him to Mattie's wheelchair. ALONE! AMAZING the state of healthcare, or lack thereof!
While driving home, my dad was moaning. I asked him if he was in pain or to tell me what was going on! He couldn't. However, I quickly surmised that he pooped in his pants. So as soon as I got home, I had to unpack the car, get him in the house, clean him up, get him started on Advil and other meds, and then deal with the cat, mail, boxes of supplies that were delivered today, and of course we all needed to eat. I am very grateful to my close friends who give me gift cards to DoorDash! They were put to good use tonight, because cooking wasn't going to happen.
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