This morning, I overheard someone talking on their cellphone.
"I can't do that day, it's Mother's Day," the stranger said.
"Oh," I thought. "I should remember that - I can send her something on time for once."
And then I remembered that she's dead, and it made me quite sad.
Showing posts with label Dementia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dementia. Show all posts
Friday, April 27, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Burying My Mother
Sorry it took so long to write this.
I expected it to be a quiet (if stressful) week in Family Hometown. Not likely! The phone rang nonstop all day, and neighbours stopped by often to offer their condolences. Not that they weren’t appreciated, but MY GOD I was glad to get home for some rest!
Family conflicts rose their weary heads again, but were ignored with the knowledge that my mother’s death were adding to the fire. I have spent the last 20 years thinking that I was a tough teenager to raise. That I was obstinate and somewhat disrespectful to my parents. Now I think that was an incorrect assumption. The same arguments and offenses returned, and with the same results. The difference is that I’m now nearly 40 years old, have lived more than ½ my life outside their home, and understand reality and society’s rules. And I still disagreed with much of what that household did (and how they did it). It reassured me that I was justified in all my teenage rebellion, and that I was not the Royal Pain In The Ass that I’d assumed I’d been. This has nothing to do with the death and funeral, mind you – strictly life in the Hometown House.
The funeral was a mess, but in a way that only my family could expect. We asked an old family friend to perform the ceremony. He was my parents’ first minister when we moved to Canada 30 years ago. I don’t think anyone had seen him in the last decade or so.
When I phoned to tell him of my mum’s passing, instead of focusing on how his friend of three decades had died, he started telling me about the temperature in the Ukraine and how it the poverty there is killing people. Not a good sign… However, he wanted to perform the funeral service and booked a room for the nights before and after. The hotel was a 5-minute walk from the church.
He didn’t phone the family to discuss the service. Nobody could get in touch with him on the morning of the service. Twenty minutes after the service was supposed to start, the in-house minister offered to run things. So 30 minutes late we decided to start with the stand-in. The stranger did a great job under the circumstances, and was ½ way through the final prayer when the Original Minister barged in.
Frothing at the mouth, he grabbed the microphone (without an apology for his timing), and quickly mentioned my mother by name. Then he went on a 45-minute tangent about his running out of gas in Nova Scotia, poverty in Eastern Europe, and something else that I blocked out… But NONE of it had anything to do with the deceased. NONE! The stand-in minister crept up behind me and asked if I was okay with the speech. I mentioned that he was a welcome guest, but was getting quite long-winded. The stand-in calmly approached the pulpit, pulled the microphone from Original Minister’s hand, and announced that we would be ending the service and heading to the burial.
Pure awesome. Completely wrong. But with an inappropriateness that my mother would have found hilarious.
The burial went without a hitch, and we headed to the pub for a few much-needed pints.
The next day Wife and I came back to Toronto to hibernate for a couple of days before rejoining reality.
I expected it to be a quiet (if stressful) week in Family Hometown. Not likely! The phone rang nonstop all day, and neighbours stopped by often to offer their condolences. Not that they weren’t appreciated, but MY GOD I was glad to get home for some rest!
Family conflicts rose their weary heads again, but were ignored with the knowledge that my mother’s death were adding to the fire. I have spent the last 20 years thinking that I was a tough teenager to raise. That I was obstinate and somewhat disrespectful to my parents. Now I think that was an incorrect assumption. The same arguments and offenses returned, and with the same results. The difference is that I’m now nearly 40 years old, have lived more than ½ my life outside their home, and understand reality and society’s rules. And I still disagreed with much of what that household did (and how they did it). It reassured me that I was justified in all my teenage rebellion, and that I was not the Royal Pain In The Ass that I’d assumed I’d been. This has nothing to do with the death and funeral, mind you – strictly life in the Hometown House.
The funeral was a mess, but in a way that only my family could expect. We asked an old family friend to perform the ceremony. He was my parents’ first minister when we moved to Canada 30 years ago. I don’t think anyone had seen him in the last decade or so.
When I phoned to tell him of my mum’s passing, instead of focusing on how his friend of three decades had died, he started telling me about the temperature in the Ukraine and how it the poverty there is killing people. Not a good sign… However, he wanted to perform the funeral service and booked a room for the nights before and after. The hotel was a 5-minute walk from the church.
He didn’t phone the family to discuss the service. Nobody could get in touch with him on the morning of the service. Twenty minutes after the service was supposed to start, the in-house minister offered to run things. So 30 minutes late we decided to start with the stand-in. The stranger did a great job under the circumstances, and was ½ way through the final prayer when the Original Minister barged in.
Frothing at the mouth, he grabbed the microphone (without an apology for his timing), and quickly mentioned my mother by name. Then he went on a 45-minute tangent about his running out of gas in Nova Scotia, poverty in Eastern Europe, and something else that I blocked out… But NONE of it had anything to do with the deceased. NONE! The stand-in minister crept up behind me and asked if I was okay with the speech. I mentioned that he was a welcome guest, but was getting quite long-winded. The stand-in calmly approached the pulpit, pulled the microphone from Original Minister’s hand, and announced that we would be ending the service and heading to the burial.
Pure awesome. Completely wrong. But with an inappropriateness that my mother would have found hilarious.
The burial went without a hitch, and we headed to the pub for a few much-needed pints.
The next day Wife and I came back to Toronto to hibernate for a couple of days before rejoining reality.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Dirty Work for the Family
Well... I said I'd start writing this again, if at least for therapeutic reasons, so here goes.
Friday morning, I got up reluctantly (as usual). Showered, shaved, and prepared for another 8 hours in the office. I picked up my Blackberry, and noted that there had already been 2 phone calls this morning. Notably, they were both from my family.
I listened to the first message, already knowing what was to come: My dad's voice saying "mother... dead. See ya." He had a stroke and has a VERY limited vocabulary -the 'see ya', although strangely comical, wasn't intentional.
Wife and I quickly got ready and booked the train to my family's hometown. Other than brief respite Sunday night back in Toronto, i've been in Hometown since then.
Endless phone calls and drop-ins, while well-meaning, have led to a general state of exhaustion in the house. Surprisingly, most of the funeral and burial arrangements were made within 12 hours of her passing. It's amazing how smoothly these things are set out.
Since then I've been spending most of my time finding and photoshopping a good photo of my mum, writing a speech, fielding phone calls from everyone in town, and searching for those long-lost family friends that may or may not still be alive or in Canada.
My family is dealing with it quite well for now. Her illness debilitated her for around a year, so i think we had unconsciously prepared beforehand.
Anyway, my father is shouting for me to go with him to pick out the gravesite. He knows I like shopping...
Friday morning, I got up reluctantly (as usual). Showered, shaved, and prepared for another 8 hours in the office. I picked up my Blackberry, and noted that there had already been 2 phone calls this morning. Notably, they were both from my family.
I listened to the first message, already knowing what was to come: My dad's voice saying "mother... dead. See ya." He had a stroke and has a VERY limited vocabulary -the 'see ya', although strangely comical, wasn't intentional.
Wife and I quickly got ready and booked the train to my family's hometown. Other than brief respite Sunday night back in Toronto, i've been in Hometown since then.
Endless phone calls and drop-ins, while well-meaning, have led to a general state of exhaustion in the house. Surprisingly, most of the funeral and burial arrangements were made within 12 hours of her passing. It's amazing how smoothly these things are set out.
Since then I've been spending most of my time finding and photoshopping a good photo of my mum, writing a speech, fielding phone calls from everyone in town, and searching for those long-lost family friends that may or may not still be alive or in Canada.
My family is dealing with it quite well for now. Her illness debilitated her for around a year, so i think we had unconsciously prepared beforehand.
Anyway, my father is shouting for me to go with him to pick out the gravesite. He knows I like shopping...
Monday, September 19, 2011
Family Man
I spent the past weekend visiting my family.
I arrived at their house around noon, and as soon as I got there my Dad and sisters rushed out for a few hours. At first I was annoyed, but then realized that they had been looking forward to an afternoon without having to babysit my mum. Then I realized my role for the weekend, grabbed a book and went upstairs to read beside her.
She occasionally asked me questions: "What is your girls name? Do you want to get married? Does SHE want to get married?" It was worthwhile being there, for her as well as me. It was nice to look up every once in a while and see her watching me and smiling. On the Sunday, my brother and I were both keeping her company. She was so excited, grinning and exclaiming "MY BOYS! MY BOYS ARE HERE!"
Also, my brother and father needed a break. One of them is always home with her, and they both valued being able to go out for a few hours without having to juggle their schedules or compromise. I need to visit more often, to take my share of the load. Besides, it's a good time to get some reading logged.
The visit also reminded me how important family is. My dad is showing more devotion and patience than I've ever seen. It's really endearing. And when OLK and I are old and decrepit, I hope we can show this level of support to each other. For all the time that spouses take each other for granted, or forget all the unseen acts of kindness, it's important to remember that you're there for each other.
I arrived at their house around noon, and as soon as I got there my Dad and sisters rushed out for a few hours. At first I was annoyed, but then realized that they had been looking forward to an afternoon without having to babysit my mum. Then I realized my role for the weekend, grabbed a book and went upstairs to read beside her.
She occasionally asked me questions: "What is your girls name? Do you want to get married? Does SHE want to get married?" It was worthwhile being there, for her as well as me. It was nice to look up every once in a while and see her watching me and smiling. On the Sunday, my brother and I were both keeping her company. She was so excited, grinning and exclaiming "MY BOYS! MY BOYS ARE HERE!"
Also, my brother and father needed a break. One of them is always home with her, and they both valued being able to go out for a few hours without having to juggle their schedules or compromise. I need to visit more often, to take my share of the load. Besides, it's a good time to get some reading logged.
The visit also reminded me how important family is. My dad is showing more devotion and patience than I've ever seen. It's really endearing. And when OLK and I are old and decrepit, I hope we can show this level of support to each other. For all the time that spouses take each other for granted, or forget all the unseen acts of kindness, it's important to remember that you're there for each other.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Guilt
I haven't visited my family since May. It's been for a few reasons. OLK has been busy, and I know she wants to join me - she likes them too. I've been busy, sailing, working, and just enjoying my summer.
And also because it's uncomfortable to see my mother in her current state. I think she occasionally recognizes us, but often doesn't appear to. She keeps that smile on her face that I know she uses when she thinks she's supposed to know someone she doesn't. It's hard to see that.
But I've decided to spend the weekend after next with them. OLK can't come, it'll just be me, but it needs to be done. I'll take a couple of books and just sit beside her, so if she looks up she might see her son. And I'm NOT looking forward to it…
And also because it's uncomfortable to see my mother in her current state. I think she occasionally recognizes us, but often doesn't appear to. She keeps that smile on her face that I know she uses when she thinks she's supposed to know someone she doesn't. It's hard to see that.
But I've decided to spend the weekend after next with them. OLK can't come, it'll just be me, but it needs to be done. I'll take a couple of books and just sit beside her, so if she looks up she might see her son. And I'm NOT looking forward to it…
Monday, June 20, 2011
Family Update
Yesterday I called my dad to wish him a happy Father's Day.
My brother answered the phone, and we chatted for a few minutes. Surprisingly, he then handed the phone to my mum. She sounded really healthy, happy, and lucid. She asked how I was doing, what I was doing, and how OLK's acting career was going (awesome, she'll be playing Mrs.Crazy on a TV near you quite soon). Within a few minutes, her hearing started to slip. Another minute later and she started advising me that if I had anything important to say that I should tell my brother and he'd write it down for her. She repeated the suggestion 5 or 6 times within as many minutes. Then, thankfully, she put my dad on the line.
After a short conversation with him, my mum shouted that she urgently needed to talk to me. Back on the line, she told me to prepare for some bad news: "Your brother is dead. He passed away yesterday."
I could hear him in the background saying "I'm not dead - I'm right here!" Then she got confused, wondering who had died. I tried suggesting that perhaps she got my brother mixed up with Clarence Clemons, but my joke really didn't help. Then she laughed uncomfortably, and cackled "Sorry, your mother is going crazy."
I was glad to end that phone call.
I've read that one of the most painful aspects of Dementia is that the victim shows signs of lucidity and improvement. This gets your hopes up right before they come crashing down again. Still, at least I got a few minutes with her...
My brother answered the phone, and we chatted for a few minutes. Surprisingly, he then handed the phone to my mum. She sounded really healthy, happy, and lucid. She asked how I was doing, what I was doing, and how OLK's acting career was going (awesome, she'll be playing Mrs.Crazy on a TV near you quite soon). Within a few minutes, her hearing started to slip. Another minute later and she started advising me that if I had anything important to say that I should tell my brother and he'd write it down for her. She repeated the suggestion 5 or 6 times within as many minutes. Then, thankfully, she put my dad on the line.
After a short conversation with him, my mum shouted that she urgently needed to talk to me. Back on the line, she told me to prepare for some bad news: "Your brother is dead. He passed away yesterday."
I could hear him in the background saying "I'm not dead - I'm right here!" Then she got confused, wondering who had died. I tried suggesting that perhaps she got my brother mixed up with Clarence Clemons, but my joke really didn't help. Then she laughed uncomfortably, and cackled "Sorry, your mother is going crazy."
I was glad to end that phone call.
I've read that one of the most painful aspects of Dementia is that the victim shows signs of lucidity and improvement. This gets your hopes up right before they come crashing down again. Still, at least I got a few minutes with her...
Monday, May 9, 2011
Mother's Day 2011
Last Friday I tried to buy a Mother's Day card for my mum.
There were 'joke cards', about my letting her still do my laundry. There were sentimental cards. There were bland cards. There were no cards that seemed right.
I didn't buy her one. I doubt she noticed, and if she did she probably doesn't remember. But I DO feel a bit guilty for not sending anything.
On a similar note, when I phoned on Easter Sunday, my dad handed her the phone. She aske "Who's this?" She didn't believe it was me. She kept asking how I was doing, but I had to answer in the third person. It was sweet, she was really interested to know how I was doing. Weird...
There were 'joke cards', about my letting her still do my laundry. There were sentimental cards. There were bland cards. There were no cards that seemed right.
I didn't buy her one. I doubt she noticed, and if she did she probably doesn't remember. But I DO feel a bit guilty for not sending anything.
On a similar note, when I phoned on Easter Sunday, my dad handed her the phone. She aske "Who's this?" She didn't believe it was me. She kept asking how I was doing, but I had to answer in the third person. It was sweet, she was really interested to know how I was doing. Weird...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Ketchup
Sorry I haven't had a chance to write much this week. Not a lot has happened.
I've been working on my take-home Mid-term exam for university. And that's really about it.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see my parents. I was worried about my mum, not really trusting the assessments my brother emails me about her health. He sees things differently than I.
She's happy. That's the main thing. The last time I saw her she was in the hospital, begging relentlessly to be taken home. She'd forget that she had just asked, and ask again. So now she's home and surrounded by familiar places and faces. Unfortunately her mind is pretty much gone at this point. On Friday night, she spent a couple of hours singing the theme to The Beverly Hillbillies. Emphatically, and every time she got to "next thing you know ole Jed's a millionaire" she'd raise her hand and point at one of us. When I left for the evening, she looked at me and asked if I was coming back tomorrow. Saturday she didn't talk, just reread the same magazine all day, occasionally peering over the top to smile at me. When I left to come home, I told her I was leaving. "Yes" was all she replied. She didn't even look up.
So my mother, as I know her, has gone I think. But at least she's happy, in some sort of 'pleasant Groundhog Day'.
I left reassured that she's getting the care she needs, and isn't suffering.
I've been working on my take-home Mid-term exam for university. And that's really about it.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see my parents. I was worried about my mum, not really trusting the assessments my brother emails me about her health. He sees things differently than I.
She's happy. That's the main thing. The last time I saw her she was in the hospital, begging relentlessly to be taken home. She'd forget that she had just asked, and ask again. So now she's home and surrounded by familiar places and faces. Unfortunately her mind is pretty much gone at this point. On Friday night, she spent a couple of hours singing the theme to The Beverly Hillbillies. Emphatically, and every time she got to "next thing you know ole Jed's a millionaire" she'd raise her hand and point at one of us. When I left for the evening, she looked at me and asked if I was coming back tomorrow. Saturday she didn't talk, just reread the same magazine all day, occasionally peering over the top to smile at me. When I left to come home, I told her I was leaving. "Yes" was all she replied. She didn't even look up.
So my mother, as I know her, has gone I think. But at least she's happy, in some sort of 'pleasant Groundhog Day'.
I left reassured that she's getting the care she needs, and isn't suffering.
Monday, January 10, 2011
First Sight
The weekend was productive, if not good.
I saw my mum for the first time since she (noticably) got sick, and she's not in good shape. It was heartbreaking to see her so disoriented and… decayed. She looks a decade older than when I saw her 3 months ago. But OLK and I spoke to the nurses, and got a solid idea of where she is and what's in the plan. And they know to phone me to be included in all meetings and plans.
We also set out a custody/support plan for my sisters, should something happen to my dad, and made contact with local social service groups that need to be handy.
And for the first time in 20 years I got good Christmas presents from my family! Historically, I've received things like $10 dress shirts from Sears, framed sketches of wolves, removable locker shelves, and AC/DC cassettes. This year I actually got a couple of good DVDS and Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography! Shocking.
I saw my mum for the first time since she (noticably) got sick, and she's not in good shape. It was heartbreaking to see her so disoriented and… decayed. She looks a decade older than when I saw her 3 months ago. But OLK and I spoke to the nurses, and got a solid idea of where she is and what's in the plan. And they know to phone me to be included in all meetings and plans.
We also set out a custody/support plan for my sisters, should something happen to my dad, and made contact with local social service groups that need to be handy.
And for the first time in 20 years I got good Christmas presents from my family! Historically, I've received things like $10 dress shirts from Sears, framed sketches of wolves, removable locker shelves, and AC/DC cassettes. This year I actually got a couple of good DVDS and Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography! Shocking.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Home Is Not Home, But It's Still Somewhere I Have To Be
I noticed last night that I had a voicemail from a support group located in my parents' town.
I'm listed as emergency guardian for my sisters in case something happens. The support worker said that he'd been speaking with my dad, and that he wanted to get in touch with me to confirm that we have a plan for when things go downhill. The support worker said that "if you have a plan, that's great. We just want to confirm that everyone is on the same page. And if there is no plan, then I think it's time to put one together."
For those not in-the-know, my father had a couple of brutal strokes 20 years ago, and is now partially paralyzed with very limited vocabulary. And my sisters have Downs Syndrome.
I spoke to my brother last night, and we've agreed to go out for a drink and try to put together a couple of plans on sibling custody/support based on a couple of different scenarios. While nothing needs to be set in stone, we need to have something reasonably complete to whip out when the inevitable happens. Then I can call back the support worker on Monday with some solid information and contact.
OLK and I are off to see the family this morning, to do a late Christmas. We'll be exchanging gifts, along with visiting my mum who's still in the hospital. And from my Dad's tone of voice I don't think he expects her to leave either... We're taking my portable DVD player for her, along with copies of Pretty Woman and Pride & Prejudice. Hopefully that'll get her through a few hours of boredom. Besides, she might not remember having seen them that morning and just be happy to rewatch the same films daily.
For anyone wondering why I don't see my family so often, here's why:
Car rental: $175
Hotel room: $150
Food not at parents' house: probably another $50.
On the upside, we're going out for drinks tonight with one of my oldest and most important friends.
It's gonna be a rough weekend, wish me luck!
I'm listed as emergency guardian for my sisters in case something happens. The support worker said that he'd been speaking with my dad, and that he wanted to get in touch with me to confirm that we have a plan for when things go downhill. The support worker said that "if you have a plan, that's great. We just want to confirm that everyone is on the same page. And if there is no plan, then I think it's time to put one together."
For those not in-the-know, my father had a couple of brutal strokes 20 years ago, and is now partially paralyzed with very limited vocabulary. And my sisters have Downs Syndrome.
I spoke to my brother last night, and we've agreed to go out for a drink and try to put together a couple of plans on sibling custody/support based on a couple of different scenarios. While nothing needs to be set in stone, we need to have something reasonably complete to whip out when the inevitable happens. Then I can call back the support worker on Monday with some solid information and contact.
OLK and I are off to see the family this morning, to do a late Christmas. We'll be exchanging gifts, along with visiting my mum who's still in the hospital. And from my Dad's tone of voice I don't think he expects her to leave either... We're taking my portable DVD player for her, along with copies of Pretty Woman and Pride & Prejudice. Hopefully that'll get her through a few hours of boredom. Besides, she might not remember having seen them that morning and just be happy to rewatch the same films daily.
For anyone wondering why I don't see my family so often, here's why:
Car rental: $175
Hotel room: $150
Food not at parents' house: probably another $50.
On the upside, we're going out for drinks tonight with one of my oldest and most important friends.
It's gonna be a rough weekend, wish me luck!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Resolute
OLK (wife) and I are lazy. We decided months ago that we wanted to avoid the crowded Toronto streets on New Years Eve. We wanted to avoid the subway, the bars, and the obnoxious drunken strangers on New Years Eve. Instead, we offered to host the party. A quick trip (or two) to the liquor store beforehand, and all we had to do was unlock the door and wash some dishes afterwards.
We had around a dozen friends over for a relaxed evening of laughter, food, and drink.
I don't normally believe in New Years Resolutions, I've usually believed that if you need to promise yourself something then the date shouldn't matter. However, this year I've made a resolution.
In some ways, my life is better than it has ever been. I have a great wife, unbelievable friends, (relative) job security, food, a roof over my head, a swimming pool four floors above that.... But in a couple of areas, my life has never been worse. And those are aspects that I can't post about online. Not permanent situations, but still bad for the time being.
My resolution is to cut down on my bitching and whining. And also to be a little more patient with the fucktards that populate my city. Two, two resolutions. The first because I am working to make the negative situations pay off. And the second because if I get angry every time a moron shows their true colours I'll have a stroke.
I have to accept that the bad parts of my life will make me stronger, and that the morons will become victims of Darwinism (at it's most vengeful).
On the Dementia side, my mum is still in the hospital. OLK and I are headed down to celebrate a belated Christmas with my family this weekend, and will spend some of it visiting her. I don't know how much of it will be there, as I haven't seen her since October and don't know the damage firsthand yet, but it'll be as much as I can handle.
And then we'll have a few drinks with an old friend from "back home."
It'll be an expensive weekend though. Along with the car rental ($175), we want to avoid spending the night at my parents' house. One, we don't want to be a burden - my parents always insist on playing host, and we don't want to put them through the worry. Two, their guestroom is f'ing cold! So for another $150, we get a warm, private, hotel room.
We had around a dozen friends over for a relaxed evening of laughter, food, and drink.
I don't normally believe in New Years Resolutions, I've usually believed that if you need to promise yourself something then the date shouldn't matter. However, this year I've made a resolution.
In some ways, my life is better than it has ever been. I have a great wife, unbelievable friends, (relative) job security, food, a roof over my head, a swimming pool four floors above that.... But in a couple of areas, my life has never been worse. And those are aspects that I can't post about online. Not permanent situations, but still bad for the time being.
My resolution is to cut down on my bitching and whining. And also to be a little more patient with the fucktards that populate my city. Two, two resolutions. The first because I am working to make the negative situations pay off. And the second because if I get angry every time a moron shows their true colours I'll have a stroke.
I have to accept that the bad parts of my life will make me stronger, and that the morons will become victims of Darwinism (at it's most vengeful).
On the Dementia side, my mum is still in the hospital. OLK and I are headed down to celebrate a belated Christmas with my family this weekend, and will spend some of it visiting her. I don't know how much of it will be there, as I haven't seen her since October and don't know the damage firsthand yet, but it'll be as much as I can handle.
And then we'll have a few drinks with an old friend from "back home."
It'll be an expensive weekend though. Along with the car rental ($175), we want to avoid spending the night at my parents' house. One, we don't want to be a burden - my parents always insist on playing host, and we don't want to put them through the worry. Two, their guestroom is f'ing cold! So for another $150, we get a warm, private, hotel room.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Trouble
The doctor, who has known the family for 30 years, says she's in horrible shape, living in a very detrimental environment, and needs to be hospitalized for treatment.
The family says that's the most ridiculous thing they've ever heard - she's fine.
What the hell are you supposed to do????
The family says that's the most ridiculous thing they've ever heard - she's fine.
What the hell are you supposed to do????
Monday, December 13, 2010
I Don't Like Mondays Either
Coffee and a handful of Advil, that's a good Monday breakfast right?
That's the point I'm at. Every muscle in my body aches. When I try to sleep, I can't. When I have something to do, I fall asleep. On subway trains, I hold on for dear life. At each stop I nearly fall.
This morning, I was surprised to see that little reserve that we all keep hidden away. At the (outdoor, above-ground) subway station, I was in the crowd of people coming down the icy steps as the train pulled into the station. Suddenly, the guy ahead of me slipped. He shot towards the train and ended up hanging over the tracks from the waist down! Another commuter and I grabbed his coat and yanked as hard as we could. His feet crossed back over the yellow boundary about a half a second before the train would have taken them. The young man stood up, shook the snow off himself, grinned and thanked us, and walked on down the platform.
This quick reaction actually shocked me. Normally I would have stopped and stared for a second to see if he actually needed help, and THEN done something if necessary. Not to mention, I'm tired. A minute later, after NOT getting on the packed train, I briefly dozed standing up, with -24C wind blasting my face.
On the family front, my brother can't seem to answer the questions I'm asking about my mum. My dad takes her to the doctor, and (after his stroke) he can't tell us the details. My brother seems to be happy that she's in good spirits and her mobility has improved. It doesn't seem to matter that she thinks she's travelling the world looking for dead relatives… I've asked him specific questions, and he hasn't bothered to answer them. He's just that laid-back "roll with the flow" guy that I am NOT.
So this morning I'm calling my parents' GP. He's known my family for thirty years and hopefully will be able to give me the information I need. If he can't disclose, I'm sure he'll tell me how to arrange it.
That's the point I'm at. Every muscle in my body aches. When I try to sleep, I can't. When I have something to do, I fall asleep. On subway trains, I hold on for dear life. At each stop I nearly fall.
This morning, I was surprised to see that little reserve that we all keep hidden away. At the (outdoor, above-ground) subway station, I was in the crowd of people coming down the icy steps as the train pulled into the station. Suddenly, the guy ahead of me slipped. He shot towards the train and ended up hanging over the tracks from the waist down! Another commuter and I grabbed his coat and yanked as hard as we could. His feet crossed back over the yellow boundary about a half a second before the train would have taken them. The young man stood up, shook the snow off himself, grinned and thanked us, and walked on down the platform.
This quick reaction actually shocked me. Normally I would have stopped and stared for a second to see if he actually needed help, and THEN done something if necessary. Not to mention, I'm tired. A minute later, after NOT getting on the packed train, I briefly dozed standing up, with -24C wind blasting my face.
On the family front, my brother can't seem to answer the questions I'm asking about my mum. My dad takes her to the doctor, and (after his stroke) he can't tell us the details. My brother seems to be happy that she's in good spirits and her mobility has improved. It doesn't seem to matter that she thinks she's travelling the world looking for dead relatives… I've asked him specific questions, and he hasn't bothered to answer them. He's just that laid-back "roll with the flow" guy that I am NOT.
So this morning I'm calling my parents' GP. He's known my family for thirty years and hopefully will be able to give me the information I need. If he can't disclose, I'm sure he'll tell me how to arrange it.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sick Family
On Saturday morning, my mum phoned me. I was busy finishing some homework, so I let it go to voicemail. Ten minutes later, I listened to the voicemail and the hollow voice was really upsetting. You could tell by the sound of her voice that she was struggling both physically and mentally.
I phoned right back and my dad answered the phone. I chatted with him for a bit, but he said my mum wasn't lucid enough to talk to me.
Also, a good friend told me that his partner just got diagnosed with cancer. Hopefully it's still at a good stage. In a sense, if this stuff MUST happen, the timing could have been worse. At least we're both going through similar bouts of family drama, and should be able to support each other better with this similarity.
There were good times this weekend too, but this was the dominant memory come Monday morning.
I phoned right back and my dad answered the phone. I chatted with him for a bit, but he said my mum wasn't lucid enough to talk to me.
Also, a good friend told me that his partner just got diagnosed with cancer. Hopefully it's still at a good stage. In a sense, if this stuff MUST happen, the timing could have been worse. At least we're both going through similar bouts of family drama, and should be able to support each other better with this similarity.
There were good times this weekend too, but this was the dominant memory come Monday morning.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Bad News for a Monday
A couple of days ago, I got an email telling me that a family member is starting to break down mentally.
Alzheimer’s, dementia, I don’t know what; the diagnosis hasn’t come back yet. However, it became obvious when she was shown my wedding pictures (from 6 weeks ago) and had to ask a few times what the bride’s name was.
My family has had a lot of major trauma in the last 25 years, and always managed to pull through. Often frustrating, there seems to be an odd balance where each issue is weighed against an opposing but equally unwanted deficiency. And because of this we have always persevered.
I don’t think we can beat this one, and it’s got me worried.
Alzheimer’s, dementia, I don’t know what; the diagnosis hasn’t come back yet. However, it became obvious when she was shown my wedding pictures (from 6 weeks ago) and had to ask a few times what the bride’s name was.
My family has had a lot of major trauma in the last 25 years, and always managed to pull through. Often frustrating, there seems to be an odd balance where each issue is weighed against an opposing but equally unwanted deficiency. And because of this we have always persevered.
I don’t think we can beat this one, and it’s got me worried.
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