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*sigh*
hello all.
no, i'm not back for good, just a short pop-in from a satellite (fuck the spelling) to shout out and feel like i'm among the living now and then.
mom's last radiation treatment is tomorrow morning. she made it through chemo, through the surgery (which is life saving but barbaric, if you ask me) and has gone through the baldness, the puking, the post-op depression, more puking, blisters and burns and yes, more puking. she has lost seven pounds in the last week and doesn't look like my mother at all. for all her mistakes, sins, omissions and neglect of younger years, the payment has been too harsh. i never would have imposed that kind of sentence on her.
at first, she was full of fight and optimism; after all, it was only stage 4 (ONLY...sheesh) and goddammit, she is meaner than any cancer could ever be. (this is still true.) she remained gracious to her medical staff, after all, she's a LPN but wow, that wore off when the puking and burning didn't stop.
anyway. *sigh*. she doesn't look like my mother, she doesn't smell like my mother, the only thing that's familiar is the crabby, cranky...no, let's call it what it is... the bitchiness that has become her dominant feature and by god, she's earned it. i guess it's what's kept her going and if it works, hallelujah.
what a way to spend your golden years.
***
otherwise, i'm still in a holding pattern. i try very hard to look at the bright side of things, and even in the midst of a shitstorm i can find something to laugh about. like....when donna busted brandon out of our penny poker game with three good hands in a row and one bluff. OMG she was laughing so hard at his face and i cracked up. i guess you had to be there, but this guy takes poker (even PENNY poker) so seriously he almost threw up. hahahahahahaaaa!
or when mom and i go to walmart and we walk by the hair salon and i tell her in a loud voice "Time to get your perm, yanno," and she laughs like hell.
yeah, that's me. the clown.
why do i do it? cause i'm good at it. i can laugh at just about anything and it feels so fucking good.
but why? from where in hell's half acre does the eternal optimism spring? even in the depths of depression (which i can hide better than Waldo) i can still laugh at something, with tears in my throat and pouring down my face, i can still find SOMETHING humorous. and i still keep putting one foot in front of the other.
i think part of it may be my obstinancy. *GASP* I KNOW. that's a shocker to ya'll, ain't it? admit it, you never knew that about me. i am just too bitching stubborn to give it up. you can beat me (been there), whip me (only in intensely personal situations i am not prepared to go into here if you don't mind), slap my ass and call me charlie, but i am not, repeat, NOT going down for the count. so there.
anyway.
a few physical thingys going on, but in the bigger picture it really isn't much. if ya'll have medical insurance, get on your knees and thank god you aren't one of us who have fallen in the cracks. it's a crappy place to be. i've clocked my heart rate as high as 130, and that can't be good. i try not to think about it.
hopefully soon i will be back on the up and up, until then, take care of yourselves and know that each and every one of you are in my prayers every single night. not a day goes by that i don't think of those who love me and hold it tight. you know who you are...saf, joe, perry, laurie et al. love you all very much.
for now, i'm gonna take my foot outta my ass and put it where it belongs...right in front of the other one.
: )
ps.... no joe, i'm not writing right now, but keep the safety on the gun. i have lots of notes.
pps... saf, i will call you as soon as i land. it should be this week.
ppps.... i might not get a chance to sign on again this week, but i might. haaahahaha like that made a lot of sense hee hee!
no, i'm not back for good, just a short pop-in from a satellite (fuck the spelling) to shout out and feel like i'm among the living now and then.
mom's last radiation treatment is tomorrow morning. she made it through chemo, through the surgery (which is life saving but barbaric, if you ask me) and has gone through the baldness, the puking, the post-op depression, more puking, blisters and burns and yes, more puking. she has lost seven pounds in the last week and doesn't look like my mother at all. for all her mistakes, sins, omissions and neglect of younger years, the payment has been too harsh. i never would have imposed that kind of sentence on her.
at first, she was full of fight and optimism; after all, it was only stage 4 (ONLY...sheesh) and goddammit, she is meaner than any cancer could ever be. (this is still true.) she remained gracious to her medical staff, after all, she's a LPN but wow, that wore off when the puking and burning didn't stop.
anyway. *sigh*. she doesn't look like my mother, she doesn't smell like my mother, the only thing that's familiar is the crabby, cranky...no, let's call it what it is... the bitchiness that has become her dominant feature and by god, she's earned it. i guess it's what's kept her going and if it works, hallelujah.
what a way to spend your golden years.
***
otherwise, i'm still in a holding pattern. i try very hard to look at the bright side of things, and even in the midst of a shitstorm i can find something to laugh about. like....when donna busted brandon out of our penny poker game with three good hands in a row and one bluff. OMG she was laughing so hard at his face and i cracked up. i guess you had to be there, but this guy takes poker (even PENNY poker) so seriously he almost threw up. hahahahahahaaaa!
or when mom and i go to walmart and we walk by the hair salon and i tell her in a loud voice "Time to get your perm, yanno," and she laughs like hell.
yeah, that's me. the clown.
why do i do it? cause i'm good at it. i can laugh at just about anything and it feels so fucking good.
but why? from where in hell's half acre does the eternal optimism spring? even in the depths of depression (which i can hide better than Waldo) i can still laugh at something, with tears in my throat and pouring down my face, i can still find SOMETHING humorous. and i still keep putting one foot in front of the other.
i think part of it may be my obstinancy. *GASP* I KNOW. that's a shocker to ya'll, ain't it? admit it, you never knew that about me. i am just too bitching stubborn to give it up. you can beat me (been there), whip me (only in intensely personal situations i am not prepared to go into here if you don't mind), slap my ass and call me charlie, but i am not, repeat, NOT going down for the count. so there.
anyway.
a few physical thingys going on, but in the bigger picture it really isn't much. if ya'll have medical insurance, get on your knees and thank god you aren't one of us who have fallen in the cracks. it's a crappy place to be. i've clocked my heart rate as high as 130, and that can't be good. i try not to think about it.
hopefully soon i will be back on the up and up, until then, take care of yourselves and know that each and every one of you are in my prayers every single night. not a day goes by that i don't think of those who love me and hold it tight. you know who you are...saf, joe, perry, laurie et al. love you all very much.
for now, i'm gonna take my foot outta my ass and put it where it belongs...right in front of the other one.
: )
ps.... no joe, i'm not writing right now, but keep the safety on the gun. i have lots of notes.
pps... saf, i will call you as soon as i land. it should be this week.
ppps.... i might not get a chance to sign on again this week, but i might. haaahahaha like that made a lot of sense hee hee!
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