From Mother on 7/22/10

I FEEL PRETTY GOOD.  POLYCISTIC KIDNEY DISEASE IS CALLED THE SILENT KILLER.  BUT IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE "A GOOD DEATH"  A WEEK IN A COMA, AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.  I DON'T HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH MY DOC TILL SEPTEMBER, SO I WON'T KNOW MORE TILL THEN, UNLESS I GET IT OFF THE INTERNET.

 

UNFORTUNATELY, AIMEE HAS IT, TOO.  HOWEVER SHE IS YOUNG ENOUGH TO GET A KIDNEY TRANSPLANT.  MAYBE ALEX WILL GIVE HER ONE OF HIS.  BUT RIGHT NOW, THEY BOTH WANT TO START TO SCHOOL.  SHE DOESN'T PLAN TO HAVE DYALISIS, AND NEITHER DO I.

 

I'M HAPPY FOR JOANNA AND DANNY.  ARE THEY HOPING FOR A GIRL THIS TIME?  JIM AND BRONWEN DON'T CARE, AND THEY NEVER FIND OUT IN ADVANCE.

 

TODAY DICK AND I WENT TO DALLAS TO THE MUSEUM OF ART, THEN TO THE IMAX THEATER TO SEE A FILM ON ALASKA, AND TOPPED OFF THE DAY WITH A DINNER OF FRIEDF SHRIMP AT JOE'S CRAB SHACK.  THAT IS OUR VACATION FOR THIS YEAR.

My understanding of evil

Dennis is a man who continually chooses the dark side. As a result, he is decaying from the inside out. His spirit, his soul are like rotten fruit. The rot deep inside gradually spreads to the outside and manifests itself as sickness, decay, illness, death. People call it many things: perversion, neurosis, psychosis, pathology, but the core problem is evil.

I felt this as a young woman but didn't have the experience or the words to articulate it. My ability to discern evil has been a blessing and a curse in my adult life. A curse because it means I'm sensitive to the thin veil between the physical and the spiritual worlds. The evil spirits are a part of that spiritual world and are very much with us. It is dangerous to seek them out; they will all too often sneak into our world. It is our responsibility to send them back where they belong. This is a life of goodness and light and love, and they have no place here.

I don't understand why anyone would choose the dark. Perhaps because they are lazy and won't accept the responsibility that comes with goodness. I don't know. What I do know is that those of us who are aware, conscious and can "see" the two worlds have a responsibility to speak the truth with no reservation or regard for our own reputations. People who yearn for the truth will recognize it when they hear it. It will resonate throughout their bodies and souls and they will feel the peace that comes with the light. Those are the people to keep close to your heart.

The people with rot and decay in their souls, those who repeatedly choose the darkness are always welcome into the light but most often choose to stay where they are. All we can do for them is to pray for their eternal souls.

She made me do it, he says.

This afternoon I sat in the dining room at the nursing home in Kingsland, TX, with my father. His name is Dennis, and he is dying of MS and melanoma. I came here hoping for reconciliation and to say good-bye.

The business manager at the home is a kind-hearted woman named Dorthy (yes, that's how it's spelled). She adores him and loves to sit and discuss books with him. Yesterday she told me she hopes this visit will "heal my heart." She was referring to me and my heart. Her experience of Dennis is very different from mine.

I will leave town tomorrow relieved that I have done my duty as his responsible party. I have tried to be a loving daughter and enjoy his company this one last time. However, the reality is that my only sadness is that he repeatedly ruins our relationship. I'm very sad about what we could have had but didn't.

In an earlier blog post entitled "The Good Parent" I spoke about my father's sexual addiction. Now I will give you his version. I had my notebook with me and wrote down exactly what he said. These are his words, not mine:

I've changed since the last time you saw me. I'm a different man now.

I studied religion to become a minister. I studied science and became an expert on UFOs. I'm knowledgeable about the Bermuda Triangle. That's my passion. UFOs.

(Referring to Mother) Everything I wanted to do, she'd do it but then she'd stop. When I wanted to be around children. Then when I wanted to become a minister...It's hard to believe.

Then I wanted to go to college even though my parents couldn't afford it. I asked your mother, your grandmother but they wouldn't listen to it. It was 1954; they didn't have scholarships. And she wanted to go instead of me. She got pregnant with you.

I didn't want to lead the life that she wanted. The number of sexual partners that she had. I didn't want to lead that life. I didn't want to do that."

The problem is all that pornography that was in his office, all the sex talk with me, the abuse I don't talk about. She was never in the room. It was just him and me - Daddy's Girl. So, I will drive back over there tomorrow and collect some paperwork regarding his end-of-life business, say goodbye to him and walk out the door and never see him again. I hope.

P.S. He was jealous of my first husband, and now he's jealous of the new man in my life. How's that for a kicker. Sonofabitch.

Dirty Old Men

In real life, dirty old men are neither cute nor charming. I'll write more about this later, but now I'm going to dinner on the lake in Marble Falls.

Mother Update from Dick

WE WENT TO SEE JAN'S KIDNEY DOCTOR YESTERDAY. JAN WAS RELUCTANT TO GO. THE DOCTOR TOLD US THAT THE PROSPECT OF DIALYSIS IS NOT IN THE CARDS FOR THE IMEDIATE FUTURE. HER KIDNEY FUCNTION IS AT 20%. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PREDICT HOW FAST THE KIDNEYS WILL DECLINE, BUT IT WILL TAKE MONTHS, PERHAPS EVEN YEARS WITH WITH DIET AND PRAYER BEFORE DIALYSIS IS REQUIRED. DIALYSIS IS PRESCRIBED BELOW 15% KIDNEY FUNCTION. WE FELT SO MUCH BETTER AFTER HE MADE THAT CLEAR.


I AM STILL CONCERNED ABOUT THE OTHER SYMPTOMS OF POSSIBLE STROKE THAT HAS LEFT HER CONFUSED AND UNSTEADY ON HER FEET. BUT IT SEEMS SHE IS GETTING BETTER.

The Good Parent

My theory used to be that if God gave you a bad parent, he also gave you a good parent to make up for it. All my life, until middle age, I believed Mother was my bad parent because of her bipolar disorder. She didn't get the correct diagnosis until the early 80s when I was already a married woman with young children. That means during my whole childhood Mother was occasionally ill with something no one understood or could talk about. She was frequently medicated with, I suppose, transquilizers and other sedatives.

Because mental illness is isolating, our house was often a sad and lonely place. But God made it up to me by giving me Daddy. I look like my father, and he adored me. He was my Good Parent. I called him "Daddy" until 1997 when I was 43 and realized I had been sexually abused by him. Now I call him Dennis, and now he's dying.

This coming Wednesday I go to his nursing home in Kingsland to reconcile with him and possibly say good by for the last time. We've been estranged since 1997, and I haven't seen him since 2004. The last time I spoke to him was three or four years ago when he was in the hospital with a staph infection.

When he was a younger man he looked like a movie star - black hair, long eyelashes, blue eyes. He was always a charming man who loved women and slept with many of them. His sexual addiction was rampant during the 60's, and the swinging lifestyle in the suburbs of Dallas provided plenty of opportunities for fun.

His method of sexual abuse was unique. I'm not going to describe it in this blog as I have several friends and family members who might be reading this. I will just say it was subversive, damaging and horribly embarrassing. One thing he did was teach me, as a young girl, to hate my mother. He used me to make her jealous, so she resented my presence in the home. As a married woman, going to lunch with my father was like going on a date with an older man. It was charged with sexual tension, flirtation and sometimes gifts like nice jewelry. I call it Dating Daddy.

As it turned out, my good parent was my worst parent. How sad.

Change of plans

Thirty minutes ago, while still at the office, I learned my father is dying and it's time for me to go see him. I learned this from his oncologist. He's not dying from his aggressive melanoma but rather from his MS. I haven't spoken to him in five years and now I must go reconcile and say good-bye in the same visit.

The best time to see him will be Wednesday and Thursday of next week which is when I'm supposed to go to the nephrologist with Mother and Dick. I'm numb.

Life changes on a dime.

Appointment moved to April 28

When I first answered my cell phone this afternoon I was really confused. Caller ID said the area code was 903 which I knew was Mother and Dick's area, but it wasn't their phone number. When the lady at the other end started talking she said my father had called the doctor's office to change my mother's appointment. That's when I got really confused. My father is in a nursing home in Kingsland, and I frequently get calls updating me on his treatment plan. Then she started talking about Dr. Pamatmat, who is Mother's nephrologist. My confusion topped out at that point.

Anyway, to make a long story short, Dick called Mother's nephrologist to have her May appointment moved up, and it was that doctor's nurse wanting me to double check that Dick got the voice mail she left on their phone.

So I sent him an email and turns out he didn't know the new date. It's Wednesday, April 28, at 3 p.m. I asked him why he moved it up but he didn't answer. I'll take a couple days off and go out for it. I hope Dick will let me drive them. He drives like he's still flying a Navy jet only it will be on the winding back roads of East Texas.

I'm exhausted this week because I'm the staff member in charge of a large fundraising party for 300-400 people in Granbury this weekend. While it will be good to get out of the office for a couple of days, I'll be working 18 hour days on Friday and Saturday. I'm already tired from overtime this week and expect to be beyond tired by Sunday night. Oh well, it's for a good cause - cancer patients and their families who live in poverty. I'm blessed with good health and able to help others less fortunate. That's what really matters.

Next week I get a long-needed haircut. Yay!

Always looking

Colburn says no matter how awful your parents are, you miss them after they're gone. My close friends know about my strained relationship with Mother. Most of them don't know anything about my father. She's easy to talk (complain) about; he is not.

Oddly enough, every day I check my email looking for one of Mother's irrational, disjointed, rambling emails, and I'm disappointed when there isn't one. This didn't just start with her dialysis announcement, I've been doing it for several months.

Now that she's probably dying, a few friends have said her dying is a good thing implying I'll be relieved at not having her around to make me miserable. Lately I've been getting defensive and wanting to say no, it's not a good thing - that's my mother you're talking about.

Funny how life can change on a dime, isn't it?

Two weeks til we get stress test results

WE TOOK JAN IN EARLY THIS MORNING AND SHE SPENT MOST OF THE DAY. I FIGURED IF YOU PUT JAN ON A TREADMILL, SHE MIGHT LAST A MINUTE. AS IT TURNED OUT THEY DIDN'T PUT HER ON A TREAD MILL. THEY DO IT ALL WITH INJECTIONS. I JUST CAN'T KEEP UP WITH MODERN TECHNOLOGY. ANYWAY, WE WON'T LEARN WHAT ALL THE TESTS SHE HAS BEEN SUBJECTED TO FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS. I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHAT THE DOCTOT SAYS THEN.

Trip to the emergency room

Here's an update from Dick. He was concerned about Mother's speech and unsteadiness when walking:

JAN EXPERIENCED CHEST PAINS SUNDAY NIGHT. WE FEARED SHE WAS EXPERIENCING A HEART ATTACK SO WE WENT TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM AT THE ATHENS HOSPITAL. THEY KEPT HER OVER NIGHT. AND MOST OF MONDAY MONITORING ENZYMES AND POKING AND PRODDING. THEY DETERMINED IT WAS NOT A HEART ATTACK.


DR. GREY, OUR FAMILY DOCTOR, CAME BY MONDAY MORNING AND I EXPRESSED MY CONCERN ABOUT HER UNSTEADINESS ON HER FEET AND HER TROUBLES WITH SPEECH. THIS DID NOT SEEM LIKE IT WAS CAUSED BY KIDNEY PROBLEMS BUT BY A POSSIBLE MINI-STROKE. HE AGREED AND ORDERED AN MRI. HE ALSO WROTE A PRESCRIPTION FOR A WALKER TO HELP HER NAVIGATE. SHE GOT OUT OF THE HOSPITAL JUST BEFORE FIVE AND IS BACK HOME. SHE WILL GO BACK FOR A STRESS TEST THIS MORNING HOWEVER.

And the craziness takes a turn

Just got a voice mail from Mother on my cell phone (which doesn't work at my house) that she is going into the hospital tomorrow - for one day - to have the shunt put in for dialysis. This after her telling everyone she was not going on dialysis.

She wakes up in a new world every day. I'll say it again: If she was someone else's mother I'd find her charming.

I've had about all the fun I can handle for one day. Good night.

So, maybe Mother does want my help after all?

Last week Mother said she would take care of getting the walker, and today I came home to a voice mail asking me if I'd heard anything. I guess I'm gonna have to arrange for the walker the best I can and deal with her anger and forgetfulness.

I expect this will be a recurring problem.

Turning Into an Old Lady

When I found out Mother was in ESRF (End Stage Renal Failure) I immediately called to talk to her. I haven't seen her in four years even though she only lives two or three hours from me. We don't get along well in person so I don't even try anymore.

At this point I should tell you my mother has bipolar disorder and possibly borderline personality disorder, as well. According to my father, she was incorrectly diagnosed as being schizophrenic in the early 60's. She had a psychotic break when I was in third grade and was committed to the Parkland Hospital psychiatric unit in Dallas (the county hospital) for six weeks. She was diagnosed as being manic depressive in the early 80's. Of course now we call it bipolar disorder. I don't even know all the meds she's taken over the years, but they have definitely affected her thinking as has the mental illness.

Now her kidneys are failing and so is her muscle strength. She's falling down a lot, and I'm afraid she could fall and break a leg or worse, a hip. If this happens I guess it means a stay in a nursing home for recovery and rehab. So, Dick's daughter-in-law Sheila (a nurse) and I are trying to convince Mother to have her doctor prescribe a rolling walker.

She's angry at all the attention she's been getting (real or imaginary) since Dick's email went out last week, and is getting stubborn about receiving help. She doesn't want a walker because "that's for old ladies." Last Tuesday, I decided to give her some space and not call every day trying to make arrangements with the doctor and the medical supply house.

I'll try again in a day or two.

Dick's email - the one that alarmed me and started up this blog

[History: Dick is my mother's husband. Jan is my mother. She has Polycystic Kidney Disease, and her nephrologist wants her to get a shunt inserted to prep her for dialysis. She plans to decline dialysis, so I'm learning about end-of-life issues.]
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Date: Sun, 28 Mar 2010 07:26:22 EDT
Subject: JAN

MY JAN HAS BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH KIDNEY FAILURE. SHE REFUSES TO GO ON DIALISIS. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE KEPT ALIVE BY MACHINES.

WHILE THE REST OF US ARE FIGHTING PUTTING ON POUNDS, HER APPETITE IS SO LOW THAT SHE HAS LOST FIVE POUNDS JUST LAST WEEK.

SHE IS QUITE UNSTEADY ON HER FEET AND FALLS DOWN A LOT.

PLEASE KEEP HER IN YOUR PRAYERS