Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Living to deal

I have a long list of blogs that I read.
A shorter list of those that I check frequently.
A minuscule spot of blogs, that I have a feel real connection to, and absolutely must check daily +.
Partly because of my severe social anxiety.
Partly because I don't want to be linked back here...I rarely, if ever comment on them.
Sorry. Ish. ?
But one of the blogs I've read for years, followed her through her "diet chick" days and now to her marriage/mortgage/foreclosure/infertility "Just Nesting" days.

And I just want to say a few things.
Here in my safe place.

My older sister had to have a hysterectomy when she was 28. Due to the most severe endometriosis that the specialist Doc in Seattle had ever seen.
This, after years of misdiagnosis.
One brush off "Doctor" even told her that she just needed to stop having rough sex. ???!!!????
The specialist compared it to concrete in her abdomen.
He had to scrape it off of her spinal column.
She could have been paralyzed.
She almost had to live with a colostomy bag and catheter for the rest of her life.

And my Fundy Mormon parents said this was justice served, for her being a lesbian.

And me, her ever loving sister supported her, and cared for her every step of the way.
We've always been crazy close.
And her, my ever loving sister came to resent me, especially when I accidentally got pregnant with twins.
But, then, we've always been crazy close.
And when my twins were born, and she held them in hospital... she never meant me to feel so selfish, and I never meant her to feel so desolate.

And this blog that I read...where her pain is almost palpable. Where her sense of loss and injustice is visceral.

And she writes:
"I don't want to be a poster-girl.
I don't want to show the world, or my community, or my friends and family, what's it's like to suffer from infertility, not that friends and family want to hear about it, no one wants to hear about sad things, they want triumph and that's it, then and only then is the story relevant.
So when there's nothing to learn and nothing to teach there is no point in the process.
And no one wants their life to have no meaning, no purpose, yet here I am lost in limbo.
I don't like being jealous.
I don't like feeling sad.
I don't like feeling powerless.
I don't like feeling like I'm a bad person because I have trouble handling "happy" things like babies and pregnancies, I don't like the person I'm becoming, this person full of fear, and disappointment and hopelessness.
I want to be happy.
I want my life to be about more than this.
And yet I can't go anywhere, I can't leave it, and I can't give up."

And I am the sister who went through the psyche evaluation and physical to donate eggs to my sisters partner.
And when that failed...
They discovered the impossibilities of a lesbian couple adopting.
Even when the they committed crazy $$$, were told they were unworthy of even fostering special needs children.
And I am now the sister who is watching MY sister turn into someone else.
Someone who has discovered her version of a liquid cure.
And now I am the Mother of the children who no longer have their former amazing Aunt.
Lost to alcoholism.
I experienced my own selfish grieving process at the loss of my future niece/nephew.
And I'm dealing with my children's pain/loss of their amazing Aunt.

I guess, because I can't give anything else.
I want to give HOPE.
Even when it feels like nothing is left, maybe it helps to hear that it could be worse?
Maybe that is the last thing wanted to hear?

Maybe when you've been hit by a car, hearing that it could have been a dump truck just isn't so helpful?
I don't know?
I just desperately don't want her to turn to any sort of solution that my sister seems to have chosen.
And maybe in my failed attempts with my sister, I may be failing Lori too...and should have maintained my silence.
Maybe I just want her to know, that we are out there.
We want this for you.
We feel some measure of your loss.
And I hope.

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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Multiple purpose posting

This is the post where I apologize AGAIN for falling off the planet.

  • I apologize.
  • Sincerely, and shit like that.

Also, I post about my crazy TBM father.

The latest news:
  • He bought a blow gun, bows and arrows so he won't be dependent upon ammunition when the world ends.
  • He built another huge outbuilding to house his ever excessive food storage.
  • He called my struggling teenager to tell her that going to college was a waste and offered her an acre of land in fundy land.
  • His wife sent out a Christmas calendar, with everyone (extended family included!) pictured but myself and my lesbo sister.
  • My Aunt favorite Aunt died recently, after a long battle with cancer. My Grandmother asked my Dad to call his siblings (he's the oldest) and his children to inform them. He didn't, but he did ask his brother a few days later if he could have his dead sister in laws car, because it wasn't being used anymore.
Also, my guest house flooded. Not only flooded but soaked and MILDEWED, because I was gone for the holidays PLUS I never go out there because I've come to LOATHE my guest house. Mostly due to the people that have inhabited it?
We have always kept the heat on there in the winter. I don't know if the heater failed, so the pipes froze, or if it was just too damn cold and water shorted out the heaters.
For some strange reason, I have a relatively low deductible.
If I didn't have a 17 year old that I want to banish, and that wants to live in the guest I house, I think I would have it bulldozed.
I AM sort of sad that, through the years of fixing it up, I replaced almost everything, but retained a few sweet 1948 (the year it was built) fixtures. But now the aqua counter tops, the pink Kelvinator stove, the round Firestone fridge, were all destroyed. Now in a sad dump pile waiting for the insurance adjuster.
The flood damage company we called in, gutted the place, and installed a serious heating/drying/generator/duct work system that ran for a week in my back yard. I woke up every 10 minutes at night, expecting a jet plane to come crashing through my window.

Speaking of teens and deductibles. In this same week, my car, driven by a TEEN! (because her diesel car revokes winter temperatures) got crunched, in a hit and run.
With a not so low deductible.
Can't even be seen for an estimate until the first of next month.
And my $30 a day rental car coverage? What is that? A Geo?

With sarcasm and angst,

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Thursday, January 08, 2009

It stung like a violent wind that out memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds

And it all comes down to a little blurb in the local newspaper, an honorary pallbearer and notations of those left.

I posted about my Aunt before. We've been on watch a few times. After ten + years of fighting the big C, you naively desire a different victor.

She was 55, with kids younger than my own.

I tried to get to Utah. Even with most of the roads closed and all of the passes shut down. No way to get there even in the air.

And the miles suck. And it aches, not to be there with with my family, sharing the pain, but not the physical support.

And it sucks to posses my experience. Knowing all of the stages of death, and living with that evil vindictive Cancer bitch, is only worse when it is a loved one.

And for all of the hospice workers out there...thank you.

And for some people this experience strengthens their beliefs, makes them cling to their "god".
And I feel, and understand this desire, this hamster quest for answers. This attempt at explaining and controlling the inevitable.
And for others like me, it strengthens my absolutes.
I've worked in a long term care facility FAR too long to believe in any sort of "higher power".
What sort of "creator", would this be OK? Can you seriously call this "intelligent design" with a straight face?
Who would design this?
And if I'm ever proved wrong...FUCK YOU, you sadistic prick.


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