So I had a stressful day. So you must be wondering- how could she have a stressful day when she doesn't even work or do anything? It's true I don't have a routine schedule other than therapy twice a week. It's over Thanksgiving. A few weeks ago, my sister and I had the idea of having our own Thanksgiving at my house- me, my boyfriend, and my sister. Well, my sister didn't tell my mom anything about our plans, neither did I. So my mom went ahead and made exciting plans to take my sister and I into the city to see the parade and then we'd take a train to my mom's cousin's house for dinner. My sister feels obligated to do that, and I kinda do too. But I really fought for it at my house; my sister and I had planned to make my late grandmother's stuffing recipe.
My grandmother always had Thanksgiving at the house I was growing up in. She made the best stuffing I have ever tasted. Well in 2000, she got diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Over time, we lost her, but she was still in our presence. Then the night before last Thanksgiving she passed away from stomach cancer. So all this fighting and stress over Thanksgiving has me grieving all over again. And it just so happens I have two tissues left in my tissue box. Timing like that...
I can't be angry- Alzheimer's and cancer is no one's fault. I guess it was her time to have Thanksgiving in heaven with my grandfather. But I'm angry anyway. My grandparents, especially my grandmother, were a major part of my support system in this world. I feel lost without them. Here is a poem I just wrote:
empty shells on the beach
the seagulls sing my pain
clouds rolling in
my feet are sinking slowly
and you're not here
drowning- the air is scarce
the salt burns my eyes
darkness sets in
my hands are reaching out
but you're not there
Finally I'll end this post with some Tori Amos lyrics:
"And you said
and you did
and you said you would find me here
and you said
you would find me even in death"
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Monday, November 10, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Flashback
So I am sitting here at my parents' computer and Katrina, the gray/brown tabby is sitting in front of the monitor. I moved the window to the side enough so I can see what I am typing. She is so precious. She sits with her tail curled in front of her paws and looks very content. I have Coldplay on in the background.
I stopped here on my way home from my boyfriend's house. I stayed at his parents' house Tuesday and Wednesday night. It was nice to be away and to be able to spend time with my boyfriend on his days off. He is so much fun to be around. I know I might be repeating myself, but I could never say these things enough. I feel so strongly that I will never tire when it comes to telling him what he means to me. He has this innate ability to make me laugh and I value it so much. Laughter is something I definitely need in my life- I am often stressed out.
Last night my boyfriend's grandfather mentioned he was going to the oncologist today for test results. I ended up having a flashback to when I took my grandfather to the VA for his test results. I can remember clearly the look on his face while we were in that office and got the news. His cancer had spread to various organs and they told him he needed chemo. I had spent a lot of the summer transporting him to doctors and helping him out around the condo. I was really getting to know him and was becoming closer to him than I had ever been. He even told me that I was a great granddaughter. When someone says a statement like that, it really means a lot. It was devastating to find out the bad news and even more devastating to have to spend my final days with him in the hospital. His chemo had made him susceptible to pneumonia, and the pneumonia was what ended up killing him. I went back and forth from extreme grief to numbness. I do not know if I grieved in a healthy manner or if my numbness put a hold on things. Every time I tried to talk about it in therapy, the pain was too much to bear and I ended up telling Jeanne that I couldn't talk about it anymore. Last night, I felt the pain pretty bad again- like a wound that had been reopened. As I wrote in a poem dedicated to him: "You'd say life is hard, well it certainly is hard without you here."
I stopped here on my way home from my boyfriend's house. I stayed at his parents' house Tuesday and Wednesday night. It was nice to be away and to be able to spend time with my boyfriend on his days off. He is so much fun to be around. I know I might be repeating myself, but I could never say these things enough. I feel so strongly that I will never tire when it comes to telling him what he means to me. He has this innate ability to make me laugh and I value it so much. Laughter is something I definitely need in my life- I am often stressed out.
Last night my boyfriend's grandfather mentioned he was going to the oncologist today for test results. I ended up having a flashback to when I took my grandfather to the VA for his test results. I can remember clearly the look on his face while we were in that office and got the news. His cancer had spread to various organs and they told him he needed chemo. I had spent a lot of the summer transporting him to doctors and helping him out around the condo. I was really getting to know him and was becoming closer to him than I had ever been. He even told me that I was a great granddaughter. When someone says a statement like that, it really means a lot. It was devastating to find out the bad news and even more devastating to have to spend my final days with him in the hospital. His chemo had made him susceptible to pneumonia, and the pneumonia was what ended up killing him. I went back and forth from extreme grief to numbness. I do not know if I grieved in a healthy manner or if my numbness put a hold on things. Every time I tried to talk about it in therapy, the pain was too much to bear and I ended up telling Jeanne that I couldn't talk about it anymore. Last night, I felt the pain pretty bad again- like a wound that had been reopened. As I wrote in a poem dedicated to him: "You'd say life is hard, well it certainly is hard without you here."
Monday, September 8, 2008
Last Breath
My friend is recovering from recent surgery, and that means that she has not been able to work seven days a week as usual. She has repeatedly stated that she is 'so bored.' If she thinks a week of not working is boring, how would she handle eight years? I have been out of work for quite some time. Luckily, I have been able to postpone my student loan payments. Soon I will not be able to do that anymore.
I have a fairly large sum of money that I owe the government. There is no way this could be paid off with my disability checks, unless I suddenly didn't have to pay my rent anymore. My parents won't take me back, and I don't think I want to go back anyways, so that is not an option. I could get the loans entirely dismissed, but that would mean that I could never work again. I don't want to put myself in that predicament. There is a part of me that would like to work again, and shall eventually try and do so. Hopefully it will work out, and the stress won't be too crippling. Myself and stress don't mix well. It's been proven, repeatedly.
The diagnosis of my grandfather's terminal cancer (me being there for the 'talk' with his doctors) was a ticket into a world of paranoia and psychiatric hospitalization. That was three years ago, I believe in a few minutes it would be to the exact date. It was either the 7th or the 9th, but I am leading toward the 9th, on which he received the news. I was in the psych ward about one month later. There was a patient there that had just lost his mother, and he would go around the halls in circles singing. Sometimes he sang his mother's favorite songs (I found out in music therapy). It was sad, but I could not absorb anymore sadness at that point. Some patients in the ward with me found out about my grandfather and tried to comfort me, but it did the opposite. I was released from the hospital by the third week of the month and in January of '06,
my grandfather took his last breath. Amazingly, I avoided the hospital after that and after the recent death of my grandmother as well. Perhaps I am coping better.
I have a fairly large sum of money that I owe the government. There is no way this could be paid off with my disability checks, unless I suddenly didn't have to pay my rent anymore. My parents won't take me back, and I don't think I want to go back anyways, so that is not an option. I could get the loans entirely dismissed, but that would mean that I could never work again. I don't want to put myself in that predicament. There is a part of me that would like to work again, and shall eventually try and do so. Hopefully it will work out, and the stress won't be too crippling. Myself and stress don't mix well. It's been proven, repeatedly.
The diagnosis of my grandfather's terminal cancer (me being there for the 'talk' with his doctors) was a ticket into a world of paranoia and psychiatric hospitalization. That was three years ago, I believe in a few minutes it would be to the exact date. It was either the 7th or the 9th, but I am leading toward the 9th, on which he received the news. I was in the psych ward about one month later. There was a patient there that had just lost his mother, and he would go around the halls in circles singing. Sometimes he sang his mother's favorite songs (I found out in music therapy). It was sad, but I could not absorb anymore sadness at that point. Some patients in the ward with me found out about my grandfather and tried to comfort me, but it did the opposite. I was released from the hospital by the third week of the month and in January of '06,
my grandfather took his last breath. Amazingly, I avoided the hospital after that and after the recent death of my grandmother as well. Perhaps I am coping better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
