So What?

Oops we did it again.

2011-09-22T15:00:00.000-07:00

We took in yet another stray cat.

Her name is Gabrielle. She is about three months old and as big as Madison. LOL. She's part Bengal, so she's going to be a big girl.

Took her to the vet today and made sure nothing serious is going on with her (she was rescued last night). So she's my birthday kitten. LOL

Yes, I am the crazy cat lady.

stupid blogger

2011-09-07T11:10:00.001-07:00

I can't comment on anyones blogs! it gives me some crap about "account not being authorized to post on this page" - huh??

Cry, baby.

2011-09-02T13:36:00.000-07:00

I've never been a "crier". I HATE crying, and the most humiliating thing I can think of (other than being naked in public) is crying in public.

I didn't grow up in a very demonstrative household (unless being cracked upside the head is demonstrative - lol), and when I met hubby I initially had a really hard time with the amount of physical contact that both he and his children were comfortable with. It took me some time to get used to holding hands in public, or accepting a peck in public or what have you.

Anyway. Work has been extremely challenging, and I got really really nasty and hateful email from my mother last week. I had a major (and I mean MAJOR) fibro flare brought on by the stress there and the stress of being away from home. I don't travel well these days, and being in the car, sleeping in a new place with new smells and new sounds and a new bed was really hard on me, and sleep was elusive. I had a migraine the day before we left, and it carried through Saturday, and I was wiped the entire beach trip.

This made me really ANGRY and one of the ways I express major anger is to, yep, cry. Hubby was a champion and listened to me rant and rave and hate my fibro and worry I'll never make it to Europe (Paris is the one dream I've had my whole life) if I can't even take a 3 hour car ride to the next state etc. So I sprung a major leak.

I came back to work Tuesday, worked half a day, and then couldn't get up Wednesday. Like I slept for 15 hours straight, and then hubby woke me up cause he was worried. I could hardly walk, the muscles in the back of my legs would not work.

I came to work yesterday (Thursday) and barely made it through. I have an office roommate now (maybe only for another month or two - supposed to get more office space soon) and she's a nice person, but being a sales person she is loud. As are the scents of her lotion, her phone, her laugh, her friends that visit all day long etc. I close the door, she opens it. I can't THINK at all when I'm in a deep fibro fog and she's laughing on the phone or something 4 feet from me. I totally, completely, sensory overloaded melted down yesterday.

I bailed out of the office before I started crying, and found one of my friends here (receptionist) and asked her where my other friend (and HR person - there are 4 of them) was - she was out. And my friend asked me if I was ok, and then it just started.

I blubbered and ranted and raved and cried and she hugged me and she cried a little too and then she put me back together again.

Friends that you can do this with are RARE, and I am so blessed to have a few of these kinds of friends. Being able to talk it out with her, and acknowledge it with her understanding, was incredibly healing. I am sick to death of people that don't "get" fibro - the "oh it's all in your head" or "it's all the pills you take" (mom's latest barb involved these) and that "oh, well I'm tired too". There is tired and then there is FIBRO tired, the I can't fucking move or I will cry type of sore. Think of the worst flu you ever had. Remove the puking, and BOOM you have an idea of what it feels like to be in a bad fibro flare. Although I have been known to puke from intense pain, so maybe you can keep that in. I digress.

Anyway, I was a super crab yesterday when I got home, I was mad at work, I was mad at myself for crying and feeling like giving up. Hubby loved me through it and I slept really really well last night.

And today I feel great.

Obviously, that release was what I needed - I needed to throw a mini "its not fair" tantrum and get some of it out. Because yeah, it's NOT fair. I spent the first three decades of my life being a Type A Achiever, simultaneouly going to school and working full time, taking care of my dad, figuring out how to divorce an abuser, being self sufficient. It all hit at once. No one helped put me through school. I did it. I pay these loans. No one paid my rent. I did it, since I was 17 and my mom kicked me out.

And then comes fibro... who made me slow down. Forced me to stop and rest, or I will pay for days and days. I am learning not to take things so seriously. Everything in my house doesn't need to be perfect. I don't lust for $3000 handbags anymore. I have learned the simple pleasure of tuning out to the TV when I am to fogged up to read or knit. Everything has changed.

And today? Today I can handle stupid fibro. I'm strong enough. Thanks to the help of my friends.

I knew it couldn't stay quiet forever.

2011-08-24T15:22:00.000-07:00

My mother contacted me again. She sent me an email telling me I was a horrible person just like my father, and accusing me of lying about something that happened like a year ago (my kid apparently told her she was a drunk - and I never told him that, but she claims she could "tell by my face" when she told me that that I did it) and all of these other horrible things - why hasn't she seen the kids, and she wonders what I told them about all of this (answer: nothing).

So I sent her an email basically telling her it is sad she doesn't know me at all, and if she really thinks all that about me then yes, I don't blame her for not wanting to stay away. I would stay away from a person like that too. The thing is though, I know I am NOT that person. My friends (and chosen family) know I am not that person. Someone that gave me half of my DNA should know that too, but her need to be 'right' at all costs is blocking her inability to see really who I am.

I also told her I think she really needs grief counseling, as she hasn't been ok since my uncle died, and that I wish her the best and love her no matter what, as she's my mom. I told her I was done trying to get her to love and accept me, and that I was done trying to save her. I've tried to save her my whole life, from being her emotional spouse to giving her a place to live temporarily when her husband lost his job, to paying her mortgage for her (as a loan) when she was about to lose her house. I did these things out of love for her, and to try to help her. It obviously means nothing.

She of course moved here "because of me" instead of because stepdad burned thru all the job opps in their smaller city. Sigh. She really has demonized me, and I really think she's convinced herself the all of this is true. It's hurtful, but more than that it's sad. It shows me that so many of her relationships likely lack authenticity, as she shows a facet of herself, and then can turn on you completely when things happen that she doesn't like, and completely can alienate herself.

I think our relationship is irreparably damaged. So I feel like I've lost both of my parents, one to death, and one to this. Maybe there can be some neutral interactions if she decides she wants to see the kids, but I can't forsee anything else coming.

The stress interacting with her causes me is bad for my health. Unless she can honestly try to see what's happened in an objective way and let the past be the past there is no way we can move in to the future. I won't allow myself to be attacked like that, not for anyone.

Independence Day

2011-08-20T20:34:00.000-07:00

My mother is still not speaking to me. I decided, since we "broke up" to give her some space, and hopefully we would work things out like we have in the past when she's decided to cut me out of her life. So far she is holding steadfast. I have attempted to comment/talk to her on facebook and received no response. I won't beg her to love me, so it is what it is.

My mom is a hairstylist, and I've been fortunate enough to have her style my hair for most of my life. We have often argued about my hair - typically with me wanting it shorter, and she telling me my face is to round or fat or whatever to handle it. Always in my best interest, of course.

Well, I got my hair cut yesterday. Short. REAL short, how I've always wanted it, and it totally felt like freedom, like Independence Day. My new hair girl (recommended by a girl at work) listened to me totally, I liked her a lot. And my hair is amazing... it feels like ME. As I left there yesterday, with my Jennifer Goodwin inspired pixie cut, I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. It sounds ridiculous, but it was so empowering. And Dave says it's adorable, and I have to say - even cute when I just let it air dry.

Today I was feeling real sick- I couldn't get out of bed, I could hardly walk, my knee wasn't working (I almost took a header at work the other day when the knee just totally went out when I was going up stairs, and it hasn't been the same since - should have had my cane, damnit), and I was exhausted. The kids left, and I woke up just before 2. We watched some DVR'd things (Gloria Steinem documentary on HBO - awesome!) and knit. I chilled out, and it was awesome. I just wish that I felt better.

Here's the Doc/TMI warning -

So I got a bunch of bloodwork and tests done last week. Testing for lupus basically. 2 of the 3 tests came back normal, and the third has been sent to another lab and should be back in 2-3 weeks, but it's looking good that it's not lupus. Anyway, they took urine too to check kidneys. Turns out I had a raging UTI, and had no idea. I have had a lot of pelvic pain, but just figured it was the stupid fibro. Normally in the past when I had a UTI I knew it right away. This time I had no idea. I wish that everyone that said fibro isn't real (cough cough, mom) could know something like this. I have another friend with fibro that just had an abcessed tooth - and again, had no idea. When you live with chronic pain, you just live with it. I don't complain to anyone but my husband, my fibro sisters, and well, this blog. Complaining doesn't help it, and I refuse to be "defined" by a stupid disease.

My husband is my rock. He has weathered this like a champ, when I know many men would have bailed, he stepped up to the plate and has helped me adjust to this the best he can, and he's so understanding... when I say I need to sleep, he makes sure I can sleep. When I say I need something, he's on it. I am so so lucky. I knew I was lucky before to have married my best friend, but this whole "sickness and in health" thing really has come in to play, and I'm thankful for him every day.

I am also thankful that my BFF was able to get her mom to let us stay at her beach house for three days next week. This will be our vacation for the year, period, #1 due to finances, and #2 this is the one week of the year we are kid free (they will be with their bio mom for a week). I have to think of something nice I can do for BFF's mom to thank her for her generosity. I am so looking forward to this - I am sure it will be "chill" - I look forward to some knitting, reading, cuddling with my hubby, and having that amazing salt air heal my soul. YAY BEACH!!

From "If You Had Controlling Parents"

2011-07-18T12:29:00.000-07:00

1. You aren't responsible for what your parents did to you, they are.

2. You are responsible for what you do with your life now, your parents aren't.

Life is always interesting. Purge post.

2011-07-14T09:55:00.001-07:00

Since I have been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I've been doing a lot of reading, a lot of talking, a lot of sharing with online support groups, etc. The more I read about the mind-body-spirit connection, and learn about it from therapists the more I end up delving back into my childhood.

The other day a post in an online Fibro group on facebook, that I thought was "Closed", wasn't. The post was about how some of us have family members that aren't supportive with our needs. Those of you on facebook know that if you post something to someone's "Wall" it will say something like "X person posted on X's wall" and you can click on it.

Well, apparently (because she has to absolutely know everything) my mother clicked on this link to a post I made. Which said that she was a narcissist, toxic, and that she wasn't supportive, along with some specifics in the way that she's not supportive.

I received a phone call, where she had that tone of voice, that sing-songey "you're busted" voice that I remember from being a kid, and says "Hi. What are you doing?" I tell her that I'm reading. She then proceeds to tell me she saw what I posted and because it could "affect her business" (she is a hair stylist, and we have several mutual friends that are clients of hers) she demanded I deleted it. I said "Ok, sorry." She hung up on me.

I went and deleted the post, and let the admin for the group (who is also an in real life friend) know that it wasn't "locked down" and what happened.

Well, of course my mother sent me a long email about how I am a horrible person, vicious, a liar etc. I sent a message back not apologizing for the content of the post (because it was absolutely TRUE) but for the delivery (I would not have used such harsh words with her if we were discussing in person, the fact that it was public, which I didn't intend) and that it wasn't the way I wanted to discuss this issue with her.

She then sent back another email (which I waited a "cool off day") to read, about how it's "sad" and I'm full of lies, and she and my stepdad are disappointed and that I should just stay away from her and stop blaming other people for my problems.

Ok, I can stay away.

Again, even her responses to this were about how she could be "seen" by other people - the "me me me" of the narcissism.

1. She had no right to read my venting on a support group, for a disease that she claims is all in my head. This is not a new issue, as she continually read my diary when I was a kid, snooped in my room, listened in to my phone calls, etc. She never let me have any privacy. She would barge into the bathroom when I was in there if she needed something.

2. The kind of narcissism she struggles with is entanglement - she sees me as an extension of her. I only exist to her as a reflection of her, not as my own being. When I ran away to get married at 18 she sent me a 20+ page letter about how I was shaming my family, and letting them all down. It has never been about my feelings.

3. She was abusive when I was a kid. I was grounded for stupid stuff (like grounded for a week for leaving toothpaste on the bathroom counter). She would leave me at home while she was out gallavanting with whatever boyfriend she had (usually significantly younger than she). She would take off for Reno for the weekend and call drunk, making sure I was still at home, "grounded." If I ever stood up for myself or argued I'd get a crack across my face. Sometimes I deserved it, but sometimes I didn't. She has pulled my hair, slapped me so hard I had bruises (I mouthed off to her when I was busted sneaking out), she has hit me multiple times with a broom, hairbrush, whatever she had in her hand. There were times she got that rage in her eyes I really thought she might kill me.

4. She blames all of my problems on my father leaving at age 11. Yes, that was horrible, and it created abandonment issues and a whole lot of other issues. I dealt with that through intensive counseling (years) and also worked through a lot of that when my dad was sick. The one that was abandoned took in the abandoner. That was healing in a lot of ways.

But talk about abandonment - my senior year in high school she moved into my (then future) stepdad's house, with him and his kid (who hated me). Initially she left me in the apartment we lived in. But it's ok, because she would leave a check for groceries. Eventually I had to move out to my stepdad's house. She then spent all of her time with my stepbrother - who rejected her in the end. I was invisible to her for an entire year. Until the night of graduation, when I told her I was going to stay up and out all night with all of my friends at a sleepover. She said if I didn't come home that night, not to come home at all. She meant it. I was kicked out, I moved in with my boyfriend, and then yep, got married. She refused to acknowledge this wedding, she didn't come, she didn't do anything except send me that 20+ page letter. We didn't talk for almost a year.

5. From the time I was born I always, ALWAYS, had to be perfect, had to be the best. She took great pride in telling anyone who would listen that I was potty trained by 2, reading by 3, knew my right from left foot when I was still in the crib. She used me as her own personal doll. I was a tomboy - I wanted to catch tadpoles, play in the dirt, play in the garage with my dad. She wanted the princess. She bought me a canopy bed, and I asked if I could swing from the bars. She dressed me in frilly girly stuff I hated, and yelled at me when I got dirty, and changed my clothes multiple times. She criticised my school pictures for having messy hair, or something unkempt about me. If I got all A's and a B she would complain that I was "so close" to all A's. If I did what she wanted, I felt loved. If I did what I wanted to do, I felt rejected. Therapists call this "lack of voice."

6. She always, ALWAYS has to be the center of attention. 80% of her friends are significantly younger than she is, and she always points this out, about how fun and young she is. She is obsessed with her appearance. She would not go out to get the mail without her makeup and hair done. She is the most vain person I have ever encountered. She is obsessed with looking young, and constantly wants reinforcement about how young she looks compared to so & so. She always tells me I need to change my appearance - wear more colors (I gravitate towards black), get a tan (it would make me look THINNER) etc etc.

7. She has treated me as her emotional spouse/savior my entire life. She expects me to help her with her problems, solve them for her. I have recently learned it is not my job to save her. Yet, if I confide in her, and just want her to listen, she will be full of unsolicited advice about what I should do. She doesn't think I can solve problems on my own, that I am incompetent. She also continually talks behind everyone's back - so in so must be anorexic, so in so's husband is a creep, so in so must be bipolar - and these are her so called friends...

8. She has criticised my parenting, undermined my marriage, told me (in a "supportive move" of course) that I can come and live with her and my stepfather if I ever feel trapped and want to leave. I don't want an escape hatch on my marriage, and if something did happen, her home is the last place I would go! I am 34 years old for God's sake!

9. She is incapable of seeing any of this. She also has denied things that have happened (I "imagined" it), minimized, exaggerated, and I really think she BELIEVES her lies. She just can't see how she is.

So yeah, ok... I guess I broke up with my mom. And I got back my voice.

F-you-myalgia

2011-06-29T15:53:00.000-07:00

Monday was a nightmare. As in took me 5 minutes to get 12 feet to the bathroom to pee nightmare. As in all day in bed nightmare. As in stumble out to the kitchen weeping, looking for your husband, who tries to help you by rubbing your pounding head until you go back to the bathroom to lie on the floor, throw up multiple times, and cry. As in take 30 minutes to get anything down your throat (toast? FAIL. Pop Tart? Ok... just take small bites...)

Migraine meds didn't work. They made me dizzy however, and I ran into a few walls, and the toilet etc, and felt drunk (in a bad way) but the headache raged on.

I was really scared for the first time on Monday. I don't even know if hubby knew how scared.

My right arm was tingly/numb (you know, like you hit your funny bone?) off and on all day yesterday. Tried to avoid thinking about what that could mean. Still had the f*cking headache. Made it to work until 2.

So I've had issues with balance. This is an issue, as there are stairs going into every entry in my house. My knees burn and want to give out, I catch myself on the railing if I am lucky, or stumble down the steps if I am unlucky - no total faceplant yet.

The gabapentin that seemed like a MIRACLE is more of a "meh" - I can tell when it's been about 6 hours as the pain comes back hardcore, so it is still working, kinda.

The emotions involved, with knowing I need some sort of "walking stick" (bullshit nice-coated words for CANE) at 34 years old to get up my damn house stairs without killing myself is just mind-numbing. Like, why? I need to get over myself though, the pride issue. So what. (Hence the name of this blog)

And the stupidest thing is I'm worried about how my mother (you know, the one who says my disease is not real?) will react to the cane. I alternately want to hide it from her, or wave it in her face and say "SEE? SEE? I am not a liar! This is real! I am not a hypochondriac!" but the fact that this is even a concern is ridiculous. What is it about that woman that can make me feel 10 years old again?

She's basically my only family left. My 85 year old grandma and some cousins I have rare contact with. It's not just in my head that she's begun to get more negative with me over time, but it just kills that little kid inside me and I don't know what I am supposed to do.

I post a funny cat video on my page, and she lets me know that "the poor thing is suffering with fleas, she can see". Like, just let me frigging laugh! The video was posted by an animal charity, so I doubt the cat was suffering, so whatever. That's just so HER though.

"I'm taking a day off because I don't feel well." Her: "I hope you don't get fired!" (I am on FMLA, so I CAN'T LEGALLY GET FIRED BECAUSE I AM SICK. I explain this to her four times and she still doesn't seem to believe me.

Wow, this got really off track and into a dumping of mommy-issues. Maybe she's right and I do need a shrink. ?

Two steps forward, one step back

2011-05-25T09:53:00.000-07:00

I've got a raging case of bronchitis. LOL. It's always something... I do have antibiotics though, so life should be good soon. I've been sick a week now and missed 2 days of work, fun times. I'm officially out of sick time now, and vacation, so any more sickness is money out of the paycheck. Not good. So sucking it up has commenced.

Poor Dave has my crud now too - hopefully he won't get it as bad as I do.

I started the South Beach Diet on Monday. Holy crap it's hard. LOL. I don't remember it being this hard when I detoxed last time I did this. I did notice my urge is to comfort myself with junk when I don't feel good, so that is one thing I've already learned. He made the mistake of eating licorice in front of me and I freaked out last night. LOL.

The fact that it is this hard tells me that it's likely something that needed to be done. I know I definitely needed to get off of the processed sugar. I'm thinking about dropping the rest of the phase one (no fruit! AUGH!) and going into phase two (healthy carbs) so I don't completely fall off of the wagon. I know the weight drops slower, but I need to get into something that I don't feel so damn deprived on. This is why diets continue to fail me.

It's been a while.

2011-05-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's me again - the long lost blogger. I haven't blogged in so long as I've had many things going on and zero leftover energy. I'm at a point now where I'm coming back to myself, and so here I am.

That whole feeling like hell every day of my life thing that was going on? It has a name now - Fibromyalgia.

In the interest of perhaps helping someone else who may be struggling, I'm going to get into the gory details.

After going through every test known to man, that's the diagnosis. It's a baffling and confusing disease, and it's a little bit different for everyone, but here's what mine looks like:

Constant fatigue
Pain - everywhere, everyday - making things like walking up a flight of stairs, or trying to brush my hair nearly impossible
Extra clumsiness - I had many unfortunate accidents with furniture and the like
Brain "fog" - aphasia, not remembering words that were at the tip of my tongue, multi-tasking was out the window
Insomnia
Migraines - oh the migraines -
Irritable Bowel Symptoms (fun fun)
TMJ
Painful menstrual periods
Having to cancel plans CONSTANTLY because I literally couldn't get out of bed, putting major strain on friendships
Sensitivity to everything (light, odors, sounds, temperature - too hot, too cold)
Being so sore I don't even want to be touched/hugged
Sensitive to clothes, especially tags or anything with texture
Vicodin didn't work at ALL
and generally feeling completely worthless.

Trying to pick up my electric guitar and play - impossible. The pain brought me to my knees.

Exercise? HAH! I would stumble into bed as soon as humanely possible after work, IF I was able to go to work. Forget about motorcycle riding and standing for hours at concerts - you know, the things that put me in a state of bliss? The things that made me me? GONE.

So in the last six months I've been learning how to make peace with this chronic disease. At first I thought it was just the grief of losing my dad, and I was having a hard time. But soon it became clear that the things that have haunted me my whole life (tummy troubles and headaches, clumsiness) had been turned up to an 11 on the scale of 1-10, and something was wrong.

I finally made my way to a wonderful rheumatologist in March, who ruled out arthiritis (turns out I do have a bit in my hands, and with both parents having major issues with this, it is also in my future) and took one look at me, touched my "trigger points" (which about made me fly off of her table), and knew what was up. I was also diagnosed with Restless Leg Syndrome, which actually can affect yours arms too (as it does in me) Literally, thank God for her and her knowledge!!

She took my blood samples and I was dangerously deficient in magnesium, iron, and Vitamin D. So I get to take 50,000IU of Vit D a week now (don't try this at home kids), I take Magnesium Malate at 625mg daily, and am no longer a vegetarian.

Yeah, huge changes.

But the upside is, um, I really like bacon. HA I need to move into a more "low carb" lifestyle, to avoid insulin resistance, which is already an issue for me, and common also in Fibro.

As far as the med regimen, here's what that looks like:

Cymbalta 60mg (daily) - I was already on this dose for depression, turns out it helps fibromyalgia too

Flexeril - 5mg-10mg as needed - this is a muscle relaxer

Ultram - 50-100mg as needed - this is a pain killer, that is not an opiate like Vicodin, and it works BETTER for fibromyalgia than Vicodin

(Note: there is a risk of seizure with the combo of the above three meds, as they all increase serotonin, which can lead to serotonin syndrome - which has a very specific list of symptoms, and fortunately this has not been an issue with me)

and my new BEST FRIEND - the MIRACLE in my life - Gabapentin, 300mg, 3X a day - I've just contacted Doc to see if I can take this 4X a day, as I'm discovering between hour 5 and 6 it wears off and the pain starts stabbing into me again. The first dose I took it knocked me OUT cold and I woke up feeling like I was 15 again and high on pot. Dose two went much better (no pass out) and by dose three it was like I had my life back. I could have cried, but that just would have given me a headache. ;)

The downside is some people gain weight on it. I have noticed I want to eat, oh, everything in sight, and it's almost like the pot induced "munchies" so I do have to be careful here, as I don't need "help" in that department either...ugh

I am a bit "loopy" on the gabapentin, which I guess will fade in time with the gabapentin, but it's like a complete relief not having that constant agony. I can WORK. I can THINK better, not trying to grit my teeth through the pain and literally count the minutes until I can get out my clothes and into my soft, worn jammies and pass out.

So while everyone's chemistry is different, I thought I'd share my brand of Fibro cocktail.

Job is going well - I applied for FMLA when I got the fibro diagnosis, and was approved - so now that I'm basically out of sick and vacation time, I can have unpaid time due to the Fibro as needed and not get fired - which is a huge relief. It's hard, because I don't like being "sick" but at the same time I need to be open with friends/family/employer what's going on.

To top things off, my mother doesn't think Fibromyalgia is "real" - it's a hypochondriac disease. Yeah... that's why a med for nerve pain works miracles Ma, it's all in my head. Sigh. Unfortunately this stance of hers has alienated me somewhat from her and hurt my feelings, and we are a bit distanced at the time. I don't like it, but at the same time she can be toxic about things like this, and adapt a "know it all" attitude about things, and I do NOT need that right now.

Dave has been an absolute champion - picking up the slack when I'm too tired and sore to cook, clean, help with homework, etc - not getting pissed at me when I'm too sore to have sex, when I cry about how horrible I feel, when I am a huge blubbering mess. Thank God I married a good man.

I also have to give a shout out to diabetic socks - I could not handle the pain/pressure regular socks brought, and someone suggested this fix - and man, did that help!

R.I.P.

2010-12-29T12:40:00.000-08:00

R. I. P. Isabelle Caro - another victim of anorexia.

She did a ton to try to help other people.

So sad.

Year end wrap up.

2010-12-29T08:32:00.000-08:00

This year has been a very active one. Some crazy things have happened: losing Dad (although the dementia took him a long time ago, I guess), my stepson's hospitalization, financial worries, a cancer scare with my mother. There are some things to be grateful for also: Dad BEAT dementia! He was set free from the prison of his mind and body slowly failing. I was fortunate enough to have a job change, which was a huge positivity in my life. And hubby and I are closer than ever after weathering so many crisis situations in the past year. I took up knitting, which is like psychotherapy but a lot cheaper and WAY more fun. And of course there was the arrival of my furbaby, love of my life, Madison, who is like my heart walking around outside my body.

So while I am SO SO ready for 2010 to go away, I am trying to remain thankful for the good things that happened too.

My main goals for 2011 are:

- Get in better financial shape. I did a whole lot of stress shopping this year, and it's time to pay off those credit cards and save an emergency fund once and for all. I've already got a good start on this, as I've sold 95% of my "luxury" items (jewelry, bags etc) to pay off some of this debt. Hopefully the tax refund will help with this also. NO BOREDOM/STRESS SHOPPING.

-Be more assertive with setting boundaries with those I love. Being able to say "NO" when I can't do something without guilt. Taking better care of myself.

-Eating better. Been slowly cutting out the junk food, keep on this path. If weight loss happens, then it happens. I just want to feel better and have a good energy level.

Getting in the spirit.

2010-12-22T13:06:00.001-08:00

Starting to get in the spirit of the Holiday, which is good because it's only a couple of days away.

I'm knitting my last project that is a gift, and I should finish it tonight. I keep debating whether I want to make spritz cookies this year (it's an annual decision) because almost everyone I know is dieting, including my parents. So no one will really eat them, and I can't eat them all. Maybe I'll make one batch for us, because they are so good.

Missing dad at strange moments - not so much strange, now that I think about it, but random moments. Last night we were watching the Tom Jones Christmas special (an annual tradition now - yay! LOL) and my eyes were leaky at "I'll Be Home For Christmas." I miss him in a visceral way that I didn't really expect. It's been 6 months now, but this pops up occasionally.

Hubby is done with school until Spring - thank God - it seems to have helped his mood a lot. Things with he and I have been really good lately, he's been super helpful around the house and I feel less stressed out as a result. I've had some medical issues going on (still not quite pinpointed) and have been able to do less than I would like. Having help helps my mindset. Still waiting for an appointment (referral supposedly coming) from the rheumatologist, who should hopefully get me an accurate diagnosis.

My mom and stepdad are coming over for Christmas Eve. Last year we went low key and just made a bunch of snacks/appetizers and we enjoyed it so much we are going that route again this year. Christmas Eve is typically the big 'event' more than Christmas Day, as that's when presents are opened (stockings on Christmas Day).

Work is still going great - I am so thankful to have a bit of flexibility in my schedule for when I don't feel good, and a much lower stress level.

I've started knitting a purse/tote, its my first foray into knitting in the round. It took me a few tries to start it, but now I'm cooking on it. I decided it's time for me to branch out and try some new things. I won't let my perfectionistic attitude stop me from trying to knit different things. It's a mental block I've had since I was a kid - I came from two demanding, perfectionistic parents - where 2nd place was losing. I continually work on being more kind to myself and allowing myself to fail with a smile, and keep trying.

Closer...

2010-12-14T08:27:00.000-08:00

Things are getting closer to being not so stressful.

Despite several setbacks, Family Court went hubby's way yesterday. The current visitation schedule for the kids biomom (8 hours twice a month) held. Thank you God!!! They played dirty, real dirty, but fortunately the judge saw the truth in it all.

I'm getting closer to an official diagnosis of why the hell I hurt/ache every day of my life. The allergist ran a bunch of bloodwork to rule out Celiac's (my grandma had it) and rheumatoid arthritis (mom has it). He did so, but my internist (primary care) said not so fast on the RA. I have some high inflammation somewhere in my body according to bloodwork, so he is referring me to a rhreumatologist to rule out RA and some other scary things. When that's done, then it's "just" the fibromyalgia. He wants to make sure that there isn't something else masquerading as fibro in there.

Also wants me to do a sleep study, as apparently sleep apnea can cause some of the issues I'm having. He also redid the bloodwork to see how the inflammation looks now vs. last week.

Trying not to freak out with all of these scary disease labels being thrown around, and just chill until all the tests are done, but it's kind of hard. I am not interested in whatever "label" they want to attach, I just want to feel better.

Honored.

2010-12-02T08:47:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I received a huge honor.

I have a friend, who I met on the internet a year or so ago, and we've become really close emotionally. She lives in Colorado Springs, and we haven't hung in person yet, but have plans to do so in March in Las Vegas (paaaartay!). One of the things we have in common is our huge love for animals.

She has been kicking around starting a non-profit to help pay for pets medical expenses when their moms/dads can't afford it. In her case, one of her beloved dogs had cancer. She was lucky enough that she had the funds for his treatment, and she's had 2 more years (so far) with her furbaby.

So she is getting ready to file the paperwork for her nonprofit, called "2 More Years" and she did me the honor of asking me if I'd be on her Board of Directors today. I of course accepted, and was honored to do so.

This meant to much to me, her trust in me, and our friendship. And when I felt all teary about it, I also noticed when I was knitting quietly lately, I felt a sense of triumph - the geeky nerd from my youth and the outcast of my teenage angst years was accepted by "the cool kid." (My friend is funny, smart etc. - and happens to be supermodel-level thin and gorgeous...)

Odd feeling, and I guess what I'm saying is I didn't realize how much my self esteem still needs improvement and how important it is for me to feel like I belong somewhere. I guess I still feel like the outsider, when it comes to my insides. Not sure how to fix it, but you can bet I'm going to keep trying.

I went to the doctor yesterday, an allergist/immunologist this time. We are still trying to pinpoint the causes of my constant fatigue and aches and basically daily headaches. Blood was taken to check for Crohn's and for rheumatoid arthiritis. I'm worried something will come back as positive, but almost hoping something will come back as I'm so sick to death of feeling exhausted and sore every day of my life and having no real explanation. When lifting your coffee mug literally hurts and tires you out there is a problem. Fibromyalgia has been thrown around in the past, but there's really no "test" for it other than a list of symptoms. Hell, I don't know. I just want to feel better, and not have them all think I'm a hypochondriac.

Chilly.

2010-11-17T14:02:00.000-08:00

There's something about chilly weather that just makes me want to coccoon. I want to crawl in bed with the dog and all my kitties with a cup of hot cider and hibernate.

And of course, knit.

I mentioned about my newfound love for knitting - its quickly turned into an obsession. I am the SCARF ACE (say hello to my needle, friend) and have been whipping through those babies like no one's business. I made a couple of them for Christmas presents, for my grandma and my "Secret Santa" gift, and am pretty damn proud of myself.

Besides the knitting itself, which is cheaper than psychotherapy and about as effective, comes knitting paraphanelia. Shirts that say 'KNIT OR DIE' for example. Which I ordered, and should be here soon. It's like this whole little geeky subculture and I am just in love with. I've joined a site, Ravelry, which is like myspace for crafty people, and am digging it there too.

Things have calmed down on the home front a bit, thank god, no more crisis mode.

Just wanted to drop a note so you all didn't think I was dead or something. LOL

The Medium visit.

2010-11-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

You may have to go out on a limb with me folks, to take this journey.

Two nights ago after work I went and saw a psychic medium. I was compelled to go there, as I was really struggling with grief, and worrying about my Dad, and if he was ok. I guess the repressed Catholic girl in me (was raised Catholic and ran as far and as fast as I could away from that patriarchal belief system) was still a little bit afraid of, well, Hell. My Dad always did his best with me and treated me kindly (when he was there) but he wasn't so kind to a lot of other people, and broke up many marriages in his lifetime. I just felt "stuck" in grief. I miss my Uncle too, and while he was certainly no angel either, I wasn't as worried about him as I was my father for some reason.

So this whole thing started about a month ago as I was staring out my office window at the birds and missing my dad, and thinking about him. I did a google search for psychics in the area, and looked at several webpages and decided on one. Her rate was a bit high, but she has lots of accolades. And I figured, hell I'd pay more than the $130 for an hour if I can let go of this worry and feel ok with Dad having passed on.

I went in to the city and went to the building - it's a very old building, a bit run down in that charming vintage sort of way, and had beautiful old wood floors, and the old style fire escape. I could feel some energy in that space that I definitely wasn't alone. I initially thought maybe I was picking up vibes of a little girl ghost, and I kept getting cold spots. I wasn't freaked out but I totally felt watched. I got there a bit early, as I drove in rush hour, and it was very important that I not be late.

The appointment before mine ended, and I went in and Renee, the psychic, said "Oh! I am so so glad you are here. This finally makes sense now. There is someone here to see you and he has been here since about 3 and he's very impatient and insistent that he talk with you. Earlier I had to tell him to wait his turn because he kept talking in someone else's session."

So totally "cold" with no prompting from me, she starts to describe how this person passed. She describes him as older, and that he was having trouble breathing, couldn't catch his breath, and his head was very foggy. She also says he is very angry about how he was sick and how he died and he has a foul mouth (LOL!). She then picks up that a second person is there also, another man, but he's quite a bit younger, and he passed from an injury to his back or kidneys. She advised me that they were both connected through me and through my mother.

My father, of course, died from pneumonia and had dementia.

My uncle died from Kidney cancer.

So I knew who was there.

I didn't tell her who was there. She sat quietly for a few seconds (it seemed like an eternity) and then she said "Oh honey, it's your pop." And I SWEAR TO GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY the lights flickered, like they would in a power outage. She laughed, and explained that happens when there is a strong personality and they are excited you connected. To say that my father was a strong personality is an understatement.

She then describes my father to a T - she says he was a very tender person inside, and he cared so so much about me, but had a hard time expressing it, and he's so sorry. He's so sorry he left, and it was more than just when he passed, he left another time. (He did - left my mother and I when I was 11.) And that it was PRIDE and LIQUOR that clouded his mind and he wants me to forgive him. Of course I do. He came from a long line of alcoholics and philanderers, he didn't know better.

He then tells me that he's proud of me, and thanks me for taking care of things when he couldn't, which puts me into a complete sobbing mess. And he sends his love, and she confirms HE IS SENDING THE BIRDS. He also takes credit for leading me to the Medium, as he says he was trying to connect with me but I wasn't paying attention or couldn't hear him.

He then communicates that he loves my mother always, and he is also sorry for hurting her. I apologized for not being there when he passed, he says he understands why I couldn't, and that I couldn't help anyway. Hearing that was like a 10,000 lb weight was lifted off of my chest. I guess I didn't realize exactly HOW guilty I was feeling about that.

My uncle then comes through, and is being his gregarious self, and the two of them are apparently having a good time talking and whatnot on the other side. My uncle is confirmed through a number of details the psychic couldn't have possibly known (a deep family secret concerning him) and sends his love, that he considers me his 4th child.

The basic message is that they are both fine, my father's words were "at peace" (which makes me so so happy, as he was restless his whole life) and that they are both in my corner.

My uncle apparently also wants to take a 2 X 4 to hubby's crazy Ex - hahaah. They both chimed in on that situation, and praised me for sticking it out and tell me that I'm the reason that family is ok, basically confirm that I am the glue and the strength there, and they advise me to take regular vacations to save my sanity, and that I need more alone time to be happy. All true, of course.

The psychic then tells me I am an "intuitive" person, but the kids are "sensitives" and when they come back from their mom's house, they bring their mom's toxic energy in the house, and I should pray to my angels, burn sacred wood, and use space clearing spray to keep the toxicity away. Well, I've certainly felt that energy, and so as out there as that little tidbit seems, it also seems to make sense. Just because it seems whacked because I never heard/thought of it doesn't mean it's not valid. So I guess I'm going to start to work on that aspect of it all also.

I've basically been repeating the session over and over again in my head. It's an obsession, but a happy one. I know it was real. There's no way she could have told me the details she did (I didn't list them all here). I went in there with my name and nothing else, and she knew everything about my life, about the recent issues with the boy, about family secrets.

It was basically amazing. I walked out of there, and I could have cried from happiness. The first thing I did was call my mother and tell her the messages from Dad and Uncle, as I know she would see the validity in it all. I wasn't sure how hubby would react, but he's been supportive and sees the truth in what happened also.

So basically, I would recommend to anyone that is struggling with grief, if you've got the financial resources to do it, connecting with a legit medium (I know there are lots of cons out there) could be incredibly helpful to your healing. I know it certainly was for mine. I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to have that last conversation with him.

Renee's website is: http://www.askrenee.com/ for those of you that are interested.

Unplugged.

2010-11-08T10:02:00.000-08:00

So I unplugged from the internet for a while. I loved it. LOL

I have been really into minimalism/anti-consumerism stuff lately. I did a major purge of stuff in the house - clothes, candles, "dust collectors", books etc. I had a ridiculous amount of STUFF. Now I have less stuff. I will continue to pare down.

I also took the plunge and decided to just wonder about knitting and start knitting. The results: a week in and a FREAKING LOVE IT. This is huge for me - I have zero artistic/athletic talent whatsoever, and I found something crafty that I can do! I am completely excited, and I seem to have a natural knack for it. I've taken a lot of shit from people (i/e old lady surburban habit) but once hubby figured out that I actually really did love it and it was relaxing for me he shut the hell up. Ha.

We have recently gone through absolute HELL with the stepkids. To make a long story short, and protect everyone's privacy, I will just say that the events all came to a head with a week long's hospital (mental health inpatient) stay for the boy. It has helped immensely, as I feel like perhaps people (and the COURT) will take our concerns seriously and the kids can get the help they need. It did put a huge strain on me personally, as well as of course my husband. Things still aren't being handled quite how I would handle them (there's still a bit of denial on hubby's part, and not wanting to deal with it) but I decided to save my own sanity, and my marriage, that I would step back and let hubby handle it.

I love those kids like they are my own, but they aren't, they are his BLOOD, and he needs to step up. I can help, but I am tired of feeling like I am the constant primary parent, when, well I just am not. Period. Legally they aren't mine, and this sometimes saves my sanity. Knowing that they are my problem because I choose to let them be my problem is sometimes enough for me to be calm about it. I could walk away. And that sounds awful, but making the choice to be here helps me feel less "stuck". I am just the stepparent. I didn't choose to bring them in the world. I didn't contribute to their genes. I just am here to try to help them grow up to be decent human beings. I choose to do this because I love them, and I love their father.

Speaking of what I am sick of, I am sick of feeling like I am drowning in grief. I think about my Dad every day, and try not to because then I get all emotional. You all may think I am insane (and likely you are right - hah) but I have made an appointment to see a Psychic Medium. I have to know that he and Uncle D are ok. I need some sort of closure to move on. I've had the appointment for weeks, and it is tonight. I'm excited as well as a little terrified, and a little skeptical. I feel like I need to apologize for not being able to be in the room with him when he went. I feel like I could have done better. And I need to know that after all he suffered that he's ok.

So yeah, that's what I've been up to.

Dear Maura Kelly,

2010-10-27T16:29:00.000-07:00

FUCK YOU.

Note: http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/internet-calls-marie-claire-boycott-blogger-slams-fatties/story?id=11981716

I'm sorry that because I'm a double digit size that I am disgusting to you. I will agree that the show in question was crap, but it wasn't offensive. You want fatties to get a room?? Why, because we can't possibly be sexual creatures? It apparently offends you to see our DISGUSTING BODIES OF FLAB *GASP*. GET OVER YOUR IDIOTIC SELF!!!! What this tells me is that YOU must really hate your OWN body to be concerned with mine!

You, dear Ms. Kelly, of the formerly admitted eating-disordered anorexic variety should KNOW BETTER. Fat hate/skinny hate/color hate/disablity hate whatever-your-flavor hate is poison.

MY FAT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. We are not going away! We are SICK and TIRED of being invisible in the mainstream media! It's ok for fat girls to be funny (Roseanne, Mo'nique), it's more likely to see a fat guy being funny(Belushi, Goodman, Farley, et al). But any ounce of respect or sexuality shown on TV? GASP! Offensive!?!? OFFENSIVE MY BIG FAT ASS!!!!!!

I'm proud that I don't subscribe to any of the so called beauty mags, including Marie Claire. Shame on you for standing by this hatred.

Good news - I'll take it!

2010-10-20T17:09:00.000-07:00

Went with mom to her appointment today - they took a whole bunch more films. She has calcifications, that typically aren't cancerous. The radiologist gave her a choice: biopsy the spots or take a wait and see approach and re-test in 6 months. She opted for the latter, and will biopsy if anything has changed.

Sweet relief!!!

Now, maybe my migraine will quit (this is day 2)...

Drowning

2010-10-19T17:37:00.000-07:00

Those of you that might know my mom in real life, please keep the following confidential, as she wants to keep this quiet, and I want to respect her right to privacy. Since I don't think any of her IRL friends or any of my family read my blog I am assuming this is a safe space for me to post how I'm feeling.

My mom got a bad mammogram. Here's the details that I know so far: she went in early last week for the mammo. During the mammo, the tech asked to take an additional photo of her right breast. My mom at the time thought this was odd, and asked me if I thought this was reason for concern when we had dinner that night.

Friday she got the call that they found something. They told her to come in ASAP to meet with a radiologist and have further films taken and be evaluated further.

Her appointment is at 2pm tomorrow, I am taking her. Taking her because she needs moral support, and taking her so I can be the one to pay attention to what the doctors are saying and take notes, as she will be too nervous to really listen.

Initially I had a real good feeling about this - a "oh, she will be fine" feeling. Then my brain started working overtime and I started to panic a little bit, and last night sleep was elusive.

I will, 100% offically lose my SHIT is my mom has cancer. Cancer took my beloved Uncle last year, I "buried" (ok, scattered) my father in June. This news has completely opened the floodgates of grief about both events for me and frankly, I'm a effing mess. It's like it started ALLLL over again, and this is a bunch of BS.

Held it together at work today. Dave is in school tonight, so I am having to hold it together for the kids tonight, but barely hanging on. Ordered pizza so I don't have to cook. Total migraine happening.

We have had major, MAJOR problems with our son too (Friday he "upped the ante" at school and threatened to kill himself, which of course freaked out his teachers and school counselor and all hell broke loose - they didn't understand this is his attention seeking behavior - he admitted he said it and didn't mean it but wanted to "come home" that day), and I am just DONE. D. O. N. E. Stick a fork in me, emotionally.

Ironic, that about a year ago my job was the worst thing in my life, and now it's basically the best. Boss is in town, and important stuff going on, so holding it together there too, but I am completely wiped out.

Thanks, Dad.

2010-10-08T08:22:00.001-07:00

This morning when I was in the shower I was feeling really lonely and disconnected. I was thinking about my Uncle, and thinking about my Dad, and missing them both, and wondering why I hadn't seen any birds lately.

I said a mental prayer for Dad to let me know he was ok and send me some birds, because I needed it.

Just a few minutes ago about 6 crows chased each other in a circle a few times around the tree right outside my office window. Impossible to miss.

Go ahead and think I'm crazy, but I know it was him.

Thanks, Dad.

Melttttdown

2010-10-08T08:17:00.000-07:00

So about twice a year the stress gets to me and I completely meltdown. Welcome to last night! LOL

I came to a decision though - I am done trying to solve the crazy Ex problem. It's not mine to solve, and it will take me down with it if I let it. So, I can support my husband and not be involved. Because if I don't be a step away from it I won't be able to help with the aftermath (fucked up kids). That's the theory. Shoutout to my friend Deirdra who was my email shrink yesterday as I was mentally flailing about about this. Love you dude.

I always feel better when I'm done though. My eyes are all swelled up but so far no one noticed at work, so that's a good thing.

I am expecting a new bag today, and that always makes my day fantastic. I sold my Chanel Cambon tote and used some of the proceeds towards the vintage caviar tote coming today. I hope it's as fantastic as photos indicated. It should curb the lust for a while.

My cousin Erin is coming to town today for the weekend. She is hilarious. She is like a younger version of my mom, minus that whole annoying "depend on me to solve her problems" part. So I am looking forward to laughter this weekend.

Also we are planning on going to the Farm to get pumpkins and stuff this weekend with some of our favorite friends. So that should be fun too.

Another day, another boring blog post.

2010-10-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling frustrated in general. My husband's ex-wife is crazy (literally, as in been in the mental ward multiple times in the past few years, on and off her meds) for those of you not in the know, and there is supposed to be a trial next month about their kids. We had a social worker/guardian ad litem do a home study and say that she (biomom) shouldn't have visitation overnight for a number of reasons. Current visitation is 8 hours twice a month, which should not be enough for this woman to screw up her kids but unfortunately it is. There are several very serious reasons why this can't happen, but in the interest of my kids' privacy I'm not going to blog them. Suffice to say, it was bad, real bad.

This has been going on for 5 years, and if we added up the legal bills I am sure the number would be astronomical. Our attorney advised we needed to pay $2000 for his entire day to have him go with us to trial. We obviously, between not receiving ANY child support from the idiot biomom and raising up two kids, don't have a spare $2K just sitting around. So I don't know what's going to happen.

There has to be some other way to deal with this situation, and not just let biomom WIN (her mother, her chief enabler, pays for her legal bills and is the main problem in this situation). Not being able to control/fix this situation (because I do realize that my insatiable need to fix things and take care of things/people is in fact my need for control) is the most frustrating thing I can think of.

The ball is in my husband's court, so to speak, and I struggle with wanting to grab the ball and pitch it myself, when I know it's important that I let him advocate for his children without my interference. Even if I think I could fight the fight better.

The amount of stress this woman puts on our household is astronomical - 99% of every argument hubby and I have ever had has something to do with her. 99% of all money woes ever are directly related to her. She doesn't deserve this amount of control over our lives, and I am not sure how to disconnect from the situation any more to save my sanity without literally sacrificing my stepkids in the process. And I don't see them as my stepkids, I see them as my KIDS, and the feeling is very mutual - they picked me before Dave picked me.

Mostly I just feel powerless. And really worried for them. Our son is really struggling with middle school (first year) like I knew he would, and the kid is clinically depressed. Doctor visits, and counseling visits, and punishments, and meds, and hugs, and long talks, nothing seems to reach the kid right now. And it breaks my heart because it's like looking into a mirror when I was 11 and seeing my face, my face as I just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. I'm not going to give up on him EVER but I just don't know how to fix this. And I am the girl that knows how to fix everything.

Wow...

2010-09-30T08:24:00.001-07:00

So there's a blog that I read that I found through the Huffington Post called Channeling Erik. It's written by a mom who lost her son Erik, to suicide, and she says that she is communicating with him from the other side, mostly with the help of mediums. For what it's worth, I believe her.

Part of this blog is writers write in and ask Erik for information about their family who has passed, or their spirit guides or that sort of thing.

There was a post there that just kicked me upside the head - a reader had asked if her sister, with early onset dementia, knew what was happening to her, and why it was happening:

"Me: Okay. Is this her destiny to have this problem?
Erik: Yes, to be humble enough to ask for help."

WOW. So this hit me like a ton of bricks, and for the first time I feel like I might understand why God would put someone through this, someone like my Dad. Who was not humble in the least.

The blog is here:

http://www.channelingerik.com/ask-erik-cheryls-questions/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ChannelingErik+%28Channeling+Erik%29

Coco Chanel.

2010-09-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

Those of you that know me outside of internetland (and many of you that only know me in that manner) know that I am absolutely obsessed with Chanel, Coco Chanel and vintage Chanel in particular.

The other day someone asked me, 'Why?' It's just a cute bag. Well, yes, the 2.55 Quilted Handbag is an amazingly beautiful piece of wearable art. But it's got so much history behind it. And the bag represents the Chanel history, which always makes me feel like a million bucks. And here, briefly, is why.

Gabrielle Chanel was born in August 1883, she had 5 siblings and her mother died when she was 12 and her father left the family. Gabrielle was sent to an orphanage, where she initially learned to sew. The nuns at the orphanage had long chains that held their keys, and she was fascinated by these chains. These chains are the inspiration for the chain handle on the famous 2.55 handbag.

When she turned 18 and left the orphanage, she decided to become a cabernet singer. It was here that she obtained the nickname "Coco", a shortened version of "Coquette." Coco then began a series of love affairs as a mistress to several men - the most important being Arthur "Boy" Capel. She was not fond of the huge hats that women were wearing, so she began to invent smaller boater hats, and they became popular in France as a show of women's liberation.

In 1910 Coco opened her first shop, financed by Capel. Soon she began designing clothing that was much different than the clothing of the time. She created loose, casual clothes out of soft jersey that up until this point was only used for men's underwear. She shunned corsets (which was scandalous at the time) and modeled her designs after menswear. Because of Coco Chanel we have:

Pants for women as acceptable attire - yep, hard to believe this didn't exist before Coco, but they didn't.
Pajamas for women (as opposed to nightgowns).
Swimming suits for women (they were very modest, but she was the first!) It was SCANDALOUS for women to be seen in the water at the beach.
Bell bottoms (she was vacationing in Venice and having trouble getting in and out of gondolas - these pants were her solution).
Chanel No. 5 - the first perfume to use synthetic ingredients, and the first designer fragrance.
The famous Chanel "box" suit - weighted with chains to hang just right.
That amazing 2.55 flap bag - the first handbag to be able to be carried on the shoulder. It has a secret pocket for storing love letters, the quilting has roots in stable boys clothing, and she insisted on having the lining of the bag be as beautiful as the outside. The bag was released in February 1955, hence the name 2.55. Coco's original design still exists, as well as several variations designed by Chanel's Karl Lagerfeld.
Sun tanning - she was the first to be tan on purpose. Previously it was seen as a sign of poverty, as pale skin was a sign of not having to work outside.
Jackie Kennedy's iconic pink suit worn on the day that JFK was assassinated? Chanel.

Arthur Capel was said to be the love of her life, and he died tragically in an auto accident, and Coco was devastated. She had several more passionate long standing affairs in her lifetime, but she never married. She never had children. She survived WWII (having been shunned for an affair with a Nazi officer) and rebuilt her business in the 1960's. She was never apologetic over her money, affairs, lifestyle choices. I may not agree with everything she did, but she was authentic to herself. She was a perfectionist when it came to her empire and she worked hard up until the day she died at age 87. She was a feminist while remaining feminine and unique. She came from nothing and created everything.

She lived her life on her terms and has a legacy that stands through today. And that, my friends, is why Coco Chanel is one of my heroes.

August.

2010-08-24T17:17:00.000-07:00

August is almost over, hard to believe.

I love, love, LOVE my new job. And I am damn good at it. I've gotten kudos from my boss on several things I've done, and everyone in my department is so supportive and welcoming. I feel like I've been let out of a cage. I'm planning on kicking butt at bonus time, and using that $$ to get myself something completely awesome and extravagant as a celebration of my success. I am greatly enjoying the interaction with people on the phone, and the privacy of my own office. Aside from the getting up part (hahah) I love coming to work.

I'm exhausted all the time, as besides my current duties, I am helping my replacement get up to speed in my past Hell job. There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to get all done. She's very overwhelmed, and I'm trying to reassure her it will get better. Even though psychoboss isn't her immediate boss, she's having to take direction from her and work with her, and it's frustrating her already. I am trying my best to tell her it will get better, but the secret part of me almost wants her to bail, as then I'll just be that more validated that I stuck it out for two frigging years. That's kind of petty though. Although I do very much feel that they took me for granted, and wonder if things will get to the level that they were when I left. I don't think they have a clue how much I actually did.

I've been feeling ok in general. It dawned on me that next month is my birthday, and my dad's birthday is 3 days before it. We generally tried to celebrate together, especially in the last few years when we were physically together. I am imagining that it will be tough. Very tough. I'm hoping for distraction.

I'm to the point now where I can see photos of him and it doesn't make me sad, it makes me smile, just a twinge of hurt inside that photographs and memories are what's left. I still think about him every day, multiple times, and sometimes I swear I can "feel" him. That makes me joyous, and tear up at the same time. I worry about losing the connection. I lost him once when I was a kid, once when he passed, and I'm holding on tight to whatever I have left.

Madison is growing like crazy. It makes me happy, as our good care of our furbaby has resulted in that, but part of me wishes she was a baby forever. I am so attached to that little girl. I am attached to ALL of my furbabies, but the timing of her has really bonded me to her on a different level. She is an amazingly funny little cat.

Ups and Downs

2010-07-27T16:17:00.001-07:00

I don't have anything important to say, but I'm in the mood to write a little bit.

I'm still having good days and bad days. At least the nightmares have stopped.

Right after dad died I kept dreaming he needed help and I kept failing him. One dream involved robbers breaking into his home and throwing him to the floor violently, and I wasn't able to catch his head before it cracked on the ground and he bled on me. Awful stuff. So none of those for a couple of weeks is a very good thing.

I just feel really isolated, and frustrated, almost angry. Angry with everything. I'm not a patient person by nature, and this life I've led has been one massive exercise in patience. I believe that is my purpose here, to learn patience. Taking care of a man who was slowly deteriorating, and who frankly was a pain in the ass when he was well, was the crowning jewel. Well, that and stepparenthood.

I've been reading a lot. Reading and playing with the kitten are my biggest two escapes. I feel lonely a lot, even when there's tons of people around. I want to be alone and I don't want to be alone at the same time. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

There has been no crying lately. Just quiet. I don't feel like talking much. I just am trying to "be".

I have still been corresponding with my dad's cousin. He and my dad were close growing up, like brothers (Dad was also an only child). I kept him in the loop of his illness and we email frequently. I've never met the man, but he has the same kind of dry wit that my dad had, so it's like that little piece is left. He and I were the only family dad had at the end. (And yes, that was his own fault.) So we are the last two people standing, so to speak, and I think that's why we have connected like we have. There's over 40 years between us, yet we connect.

I did get a new job. New job, same corporation. I'm relieved beyond belief, as my immediate boss is totally psycho. Condescending, hard to communicate with, moody, always unhappy. It's like a black cloud over you. It got to the point where I dreaded meetings with her, and felt myself getting ready to blow up. I was ready to quit some time ago, but she got breast cancer. I didn't feel right leaving my department high and dry when she was sick, so I stuck it out. Then this other internal position opened, so it was obviously meant to be. It's more of a sales oriented job, so it will be very different from the behind the scenes marketing I've been doing for the past 2 years. There will be travel at times, which I am looking forward to. An office with a window, quarterly bonuses, all those little perks. I should be more excited than I am, but few things excite me right now.

I also did recommit to a 100% vegetarian diet. I have lost 6 pounds in under two weeks, and aside from the weight loss (which is so needed - ugh) I feel "right" again. I feel much more in balance. I always ate meat sparingly, but this feels better. This feels like me again.

I was loosely compiling essays etc into a book called "My Father's Daughter." Now stupid Gwenyth Paltrow (ok, she's not stupid, I'm just bitter haha) has come out with a book called that. I'd been calling the "project" that for so long that now I haven't the foggiest how to continue. I initially started it because I was a single 20-something caring for a parent with Dementia. I had to figure it all out on my own - none of my friends had gone through it as their parents weren't so much older then they. I wished I would have known someone to bounce ideas off of.

Which reminds me of another thing - I have volunteered to start a Lewy Body Dementia support group. I haven't finished the paperwork yet (been lazy and no energy) but it would be a once a month commitment. I think this may be a way that I can honor my father and help people out. God knows I went through just about the entire spectrum of dementia with him, everything from misdiagnosis to the VA Health System, to researching all the meds, Medicaid, Medicare etc. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. So maybe I can help someone not feel as isolated as I did throughout the process. I just need to suck it up and commit already.

I am in love.

2010-07-12T16:43:00.000-07:00

Meet Maddie.

Under 2 lbs of fuzzy cuteness. Cuddling her, playing with her, even getting up and making her food in the middle of the night (she has to be fed every 4 hours right now, because she's so teeny) makes my heart feel like it's going to burst.

I am sure it's a different experience to those who have actually experienced it, but this is what I imagine having a baby is like. I imagine this as I will never have the opportunity to have a human baby, which bothers me more some days than other days... but the pure, heavy, unconditional love that I feel for this little girl when she crawls into the crook of my neck and falls asleep or even when she smears poop all over the floor in valiant attempts at the litter box just makes me feel AMAZING.

I L O V E her. HARD. So hard. Already. (It's been 2 days with her).

She is exactly what I needed right now. EXACTLY. Things have not been good for me. In me, whatever. She helps.

She helps me remember what it's like to feel happy, to feel like I have purpose, to feel love, why life is worth it, even the yucky parts, like saying goodbye to those that have passed. It's all worth it, because little miracles like Maddie are out there, just waiting for me to discover them.

Beautiful.

2010-07-01T16:47:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday David and I went out to Rockaway Beach to give dad a burial at sea.

On the way down we saw 6 hawks (Dad always pointed out Hawks when we were in the car - sometimes after hours of silence - lol, thank you "vacation dad") and tons of other various birds.

The weather was perfect. The beach was uncrowded. The sunset was... well... you see. :) Beautiful.

Dave and I went out on the beach at low tide, dug a trench, scooped Dad in and watched him go out to sea with the waves when the tide came in. We collected various beach rocks for our (in progress) Zen Garden and we found one perfect, beautiful cockle shell.

We then went out to dinner, and I had Prime Rib - his favorite dish. I couldn't order it rare like he did though.

I slept like a rock. And have slept better since.

I haven't had a crying spell since Dad went out to sea. I understand, for the first time, why funerals or similar ceremonies exist - for closure.

Of course I still miss him. But at that beach, I felt it - it's all good. He's ok. For the first time in a long time.

One Week.

2010-06-23T16:56:00.000-07:00

I've managed one week on this planet without my daddy.

This week has been a very strange one.

I don't really know what I expected. Because he was so sick for so long with that cruel disease, I thought I'd come to terms with his passing. But really, nothing can prepare you for the flood of feelings that losing a parent brings. Mostly, I just feel OLD.

I cried when I received the phone call. I cried because I was happy for him to be free, and I cried because it was sad that he was gone.

I had the thought that the past 5 years of my life, I worried about him every day. Advocated for him. Fought the VA for him. Paid his bills for him. Took him to neurology appointments, and eye doctor appointments, and the emergency room, and ten different stores looking for just the right kind of socks and underwear (which of course didn't exist, according to my dad). And now... there's a few more phone calls, a final goodbye at the Coast when his ashes are scattered to the sea, and then... that's it.

That's all.

And it's so weird to think about.

I still am thinking about him constantly. I have to force myself NOT to think about him constantly, because after about 4 minutes of that the tears come. Hummingbirds keep showing up. 15 minutes after he passed the first one showed up. One came up to the window when we were eating at a restaurant on Monday. We always birdwatched together. He bought me a bird guide. We took photos of bald eagles on the Mississippi river. And I really feel in my heart that my dad is still giving me birds to watch.

I took three days off work after he passed. Friday I allowed myself to really wallow, didn't get up and out of bed until Dave came home for lunch. Showered at 4pm. I allowed myself to stew, and worry, and feel sad, and stare at the ceiling, and sleep occasionally (sleep is still a problem).

Saturday I forced myself to get through the day. I got up by 9. I didn't cry until 11:57pm that night (I looked at the clock, disappointed I didn't quite make it a whole day without crying).

It comes in waves now. I'm exhausted - not quite as exhausted as I was during the "vigil", but close. My appetite is back (darnit! lol). Concentration is a problem. Not just with work, with simple things like following conversations, trying to read a book. I'm in a fog.

I am holding it together on the outside but inside I'm still screaming about my daddy.

I guess that's why they call it grieving.

Free at last.

2010-06-15T15:45:00.000-07:00

My daddy fought hard, and was able to go Home today about 15 minutes ago.

If you'd like to honor him, I'd love for donations to go to the Lewy Body Dementia Association so we can find a cure for this awful disease. http://www.lbda.org/

Goodbye, dad. Love you.

2010-06-12T16:29:00.000-07:00

Dad is making his last stand.

He's not expected to make it through the night.

I went to say goodbye today, and it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

His skin was yellow, clammy, his lips and hair dry. Breathing very labored. If he wasn't sort of breathing I would have guessed he passed already.

I told him it was ok to go, that he was a good daddy, and I loved him, and I'd see him later. That sort of thing. I wanted to run out of the room screaming, and wanted to crawl into bed with him at the same time and hold him. Such a weird feeling. In the end I only stayed about 10 minutes. Got through it because of Dave.

I am ready for him to go. I alternate between feeling relief that his suffering is over, and wanting to wail at the top of my lungs.

I am glad that he's not afraid. That was my biggest fear. When he nearly died from colon cancer, my dad the "athiest" asked for a priest to pray with him and give him last rights. I'm not a priest, but I prayed for him today.

This is a very strange vigil. I just am waiting for the news. I feel so weird right now. Can't even describe.

Sleep.

2010-05-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

So I hurt my ankle (again) like two weeks ago. Dave accidentally ran a Costco cart into my left heel and it was all jacked. After 1 1/2 weeks of pain and the external bruising fading but it still hurting, I went to the doc. She gave me Vicodin (WOO!) took X-rays (it's not broken) and told me if it wasn't better in another week to call her and she'd refer me to a podiatrist, who would likely give me steroid injections and possibly a heel insole for my shoe or whatever.

I went out to Dante's last Saturday and was in massive pain after that, then started to feel better. It was do-able, and obviously starting to heal. Then yesterday I swung around in the computer chair and knocked it, hard, on the chair. And today it hurt so bad I wanted to cry again.

I forced myself to get out of bed at 11ish (when the kids were due to leave with their mom - she was late) and Dave and I went to IHOP for brunch. I felt so rotten I came home to rest (at like 1:30) and passed out until 5. Slept hard enough that I was dreaming. Dreamed about my dad, we were at his old house in Florida looking at photo albums.

I woke up feeling better, foot was just achy when I was resting it instead of the constant pounding of the morning. Obviously sleep was what I needed.

I've been insomniac for a long time. It's progressively gotten worse - for a while it was just me not being able to fall asleep, and staring at the ceiling until 2am or so. Now, it's I fall asleep, and I wake up in the middle of the night (usually to let the dog out) and I have trouble falling asleep again. Sigh.

One thing about my foot hurting - today I really felt the need to get out and WALK somewhere, as we had great weather, and I couldn't. Maybe that will help motivate me to exercise after I'm healed and I don't want to.

Decided this weekend is my last hurrah with junk food. Stopped at Krispy Kreme, am going to eat donuts until I am sick of them. I will buy no junk at the grocery store tomorrow. I've had it.

Funk.

2010-05-13T10:29:00.000-07:00

I'm really in a funk today. I went to the doctor the other day because my foot was hurt and not getting better. I got on the scale.

Yet another new high. I feel like a total failure.

My first instinct was to buy a new bag - new bag = fat girl crack. I may be fat and hideous but I have a GREAT bag. I resisted (thankfully) but I hate this stupid WANTING and I know it's completely tied to self esteem. I just can't seem to get motivated. Every additional pound makes me just that much more unmotivated to do anything.

I just want to crawl in my bed and hide forever. I don't know how I got so low again.

It's been a while.

2010-05-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

My life has been very hectic. It's one of those kind of hectics that is boring to report, so therefore I haven't reported. I don't like to just bitch-blog anyway. I've been doing a lot of reading. My work still sucks, but it is slightly less sucky than it was a couple of weeks ago.

I had some major stress - I heard about a job at the non-profit I talked to a couple of years ago. They wanted to interview me. I declined. My immediate boss is fighting breast cancer, and I just can't think about bailing right now. I got a feeling in my gut that said I should pass, and so I did (this situation with my boss was one of the reasons I passed, there were a few more). I'm trying to remain positive where I am and not think about wanting to leave when thing get sucky. A lot of the time I feel frustrated because I get mixed messages from said boss (but I mean, she's not herself due to illness - what am I supposed to do, complain about it?) and spend more time redoing stuff than doing stuff. Plus there was major cold sickness in our house, and I missed quite a bit of work as I was getting over it as was the girl.

The next exciting thing coming up is on Saturday Dave and I are going to see Cash'd Out at Dante's - a Johnny Cash tribute band. I'm so excited about this, I can't wait. I hope to go to somewhere cool for dinner first.

I'm jonesing for a new bag BAD. I'm torn whether I want a Balenciaga Day or if I want a Mulberry Bayswater. They are total opposites, really - one soft and squishy, one very structured. I love them both hard. I wish I could obsess over something cheaper. Like barrettes. LMAO

Been paying off a lot of credit card debt. Won't spring for a new bag until this is all paid off, as that would be completely moronic. Been buying lots of books though, which is where all my fun money has been going.

Dad is still alive. He still has pneumonia. I went to see him on Sunday and it about did me in. Came home and bawled to Dave. I don't find meaning in this situation only more, only heartache. I don't feel guilt about praying for him to pass anymore.

I read an amazing book called "Women, Food, and God." OMG this woman so gets it. I cried reading a lot of it, reading some of my deepest, darkest secret thoughts about body image on someone else's pages. I really felt good (i/e the War is Over) for a couple of weeks, then promptly jumped back into junk food and self-hatred.

I plan on reading it again. And again. However many times it takes for me to let go and get this right. I've hated my body, and therefore myself, for the majority of my life. It takes so much energy, wasted energy. I am tired of it. Literally exhausted from it. Enough.

Life is good.

2010-04-03T17:27:00.000-07:00

Been doing an evaluation of things. Have been cleaning out baggage (physical and emotional). Sold my beloved Chanel bags to pay off some debt we accrued - it was actually really freeing.

Been conciously eating better too. No real weight loss yet, as I haven't been completely hardcore, but about 80% better, and 100% conscious of everything I eat.

My niece is coming over to babysit tonight so we can go see MUSE!!! Excited. Now only Kings of Leon are on my "MUST SEE" list currently.

Didn't want her to feel left out on Easter, so I got her an Easter pressie too - a Coach wristlet. I bought her her first Juicy and first Chanel, so the tradition continues. :) I like having someone to spoil. She deserves it.

My Belushi/Blues Brothers obsession is full boar right now - been listening to them this afternoon.

Our anniversary was a couple of days ago. Dave sent me some beautiful flowers to work, which was awesome. A coworker remarked that she couldn't believe we'd been married only two years, as we seem so comfortable together - I told her we were together 5 now, so that's probably why. That and we've been through so much crap since we got together - his psycho ex, financial issues, my dad stress, surgeries, etc etc that is something was going to torpedo us it would have already happened.

It is so amazingly awesome to have a spouse that I not only adore more than anything, is my best friend, but I trust 100%. I had an ex-husband that I couldn't trust at all, and it devastated me when his web of lies came crashing down. I have a 0% chance of this happening to me again, and it's such a great, secure feeling. We genuinely LIKE and respect each other not only as partners but as people, and having infidelity would be impossible as a result. It hasn't always been wine and roses, but it's real, and I know in my heart he's my forever love.

<3

And so it goes.

2010-03-25T10:02:00.001-07:00

Well, a couple of really good things have happened - Dad is approved for Medicaid. :) Huge stress relief there. What a nightmare going through the process.

Had a normal pap, so I'm back to YEARLY EXAMS!! Woo!

This morning Dave got a call from the daycare. It seems our son has been suspended from daycare for the rest of the week, as a result of saying something highly inappropriate about rape to another (male) child.

My first hope is that J honestly doesn't know what this means. I guarantee he will know how vile, hurtful, and awful this is when I am done with him tonight.

My next thought is, where in the HELL did he hear this??? My first inclination is to think that it was at his biomom's house, as he's come back spouting several inappropriate things. Could be school too.

I hope I can adequately explain the horror of sexual assault to him, and instill some feminist values in him too. No kid of mine is going to be talking such horror. We are stunned, and have no idea how to punish him for this.

The timing is horrible, as we are set to leave for a Spring Break vacation tomorrow for a long weekend.

Back to basics.

2010-03-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

I finally, finally bottomed out on junk food.

When I went to the doc the other day the scale was really, really ugly - as in a number I had NEVER seen.

Went to Trader Joes and bought a bunch of healthy stuff.

As soon as my gym is unburied in the garage I'm hitting it.

I'm done feeling tired and worn out all the time.

And so it begins.

Adventures at the Doc.

2010-03-10T18:46:00.000-08:00

My whole life my girl parts have been jacked. I got boobs at 11, but no period until 16. When it showed up I was in bed for a week. I have had every medical test done known to man, ruled out every bizarro condition dealing with ovaries and thyroid, and the diagnosis is PolyCystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. Basically, instead of dropping an egg, I make a half assed egg and it hangs out on my ovary with all the other half assed eggs, and they turn into cysts, and my ovaries look like big chunks of cauliflower.

In 2007 I had a scare, as I was "this close" to having Cervical Cancer. There are 4 levels of pre-cancer, and I jumped from level 2 to Level 4 red alert in a month. So I had surgery.

Basically my complete repro system is jacked.

Anyway, I've been begging/joking about a hysterectomy for years. Today my doctor (after slicing and dicing me again) finally took me seriously and we had a discussion.

She told me she understood my decades of hell and would have no problem taking out my uterus. WHAAA? I started to do the happy dance, but she reminded me I would have to keep my ovaries. She said I need to keep them for at least 10 years. Because while they are partially broken (I make basically NO progesterone, and have probably never ovulated in my life) they make plenty of estrogen. The current hormones I am on are a low dose compared to the high dose I'd have to take if she yanked my ovaries.

So losing my uterus would be no periods, but I'd still have to deal with the hot flashes, extra hair, moodswings and other fun that PCOS come with, and still would have to take hormones. So it would only partially solve my problem.

If she took my cervix too, then there would be potential other problems. (Worth the risk if my cervix has gone bad again).

I have decided if I get bad pap results again, I want to have the hysterectomy (including cervix) because I'm not going to play this cancer game anymore. If the results come back normal again, then we came up with a plan where I can continually take hormones and not have periods for as long as I want.

If any of my readers have had a partial hysterectomy, I'd love to hear from you, as I felt like I won the golden ticket and then just had a hugeass disclaimer. LOL

Can't do it now, as one of my boss' is battling cancer, so it would have to be after she's back up and running.

An interesting thing I learned today: when she was checking my ovaries (FUCKING OW) and I was dying, she apologized a bunch. She then told me that basically ovaries are chick testicles, and it's like I was being kicked in the junk, but my junk was already pissed off. Never really thought about it that way.

So I totally got roshambo'd by my doc. Who I still like.

The Great Indestructo Strikes Again.

2010-01-20T09:27:00.000-08:00

Pneumonia #3 is quickly turning into yet another miraculous recovery. Sigh.

Met with VA Home health yesterday, who were surprisingly helpful. More helpful than the other a-holes there.

Still waiting to hear back from Medicaid. Still crossing my fingers.

Have sold many, many purses. Like $3K worth. Have bought a couple of other lower prices replacements. It's kind of liberating. I was going to try to use the proceeds for another Chanel but I am thinking now I probably won't. Their latest price increase just turned me off.

Maybe I'll watch for a gently used one.

Dad.

2010-01-15T12:30:00.000-08:00

He's really sick. Fever is bad, but he did take Tylenol this morning. Apparently he tried to talk to the caregiver, which is new.

He sleeps a lot. He coughs a lot. He is weak.

I am kind of disconnected from it.

I worry he will pass when I am in Lincoln City this weekend. But at the same time I could see him doing this on purpose. I should go see him before we leave town, but I don't want to. It's too hard. I like to think of him smiling, not lying in bed struggling for breath. I hope he's not trying to talk because he's afraid.

Still working on home health to come out. Should know later in the day.

He has been half approved for Medicaid as of Feb 1. The financials are all that's left, and that's what I am worrying about. I pray it works out.

Oh yeah, no restraining order (per the attorney) but still denying her visitation. Court looms.

Haiti.

2010-01-15T09:42:00.001-08:00

My heart is really breaking for Haiti right now. I have to stop looking at the news feeds.

Donating helped me feel a bit better.

http://www.redcross.org/

2010-01-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

Today is sucking. I have meetings basically all day (I'm in an one hour "lull").

Anyway, Dad's Care home called. Remember how he JUST got transferred out of hospice? He's got a nasty cough, as in probably pneumonia. AGAIN.

I would like to slap the hospice people, because now there is a bunch of stupid paperwork that needs to be done. Again. Idiots.

Which leads me to another conundrum. If he DOES have pneumonia, he would now qualify for VA Nursing home care.

I'm waiting still for the Medicaid paperwork.

Part of me hopes that dad is tired, and ready to go on to the great beyond. He's been sick for so long. This rollercoaster sucks.

Yahoooooo

2010-01-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

We are going to get a KID FREE day/night this Saturday, thanks to Dave's mom. We are getting out of down lest Cow shows up anyway for her visitation after we get the restraining order, and Dave talked her into taking the kids for the night.

Beach time, here we come! It's been about 6 months... gah!

Frivolous Post

2010-01-11T16:38:00.001-08:00

I am thinking of unloading (selling) most of my purses, and using the money to go towards a large Chanel Flap. The reasoning for this is that a Chanel Maxi Flap will go with everything.

I do like some variety, but I have been downsizing so much lately and am kind of liking having a few "perfect" things than a bunch of stuff that I just like.

It would take selling Chanel/LV to make this happen, at a slight loss of what I paid (but have used the bags).

What do you think? Is it worth it to have the "perfect" bag?

I knew it was too calm.

2010-01-11T14:37:00.001-08:00

Received word today via the attorney that the kid's biomom has not been to her mental health provider since November. She has no-showed, changed her phone number, and dropped off of the face of the earth. She was discharged due to disappearance.

Our court order says "no mental health treatment, no visitation."

Time for another restraining order to stop visitation and to go to court.

Basically one of two things will happen: 1. She will have to start seeing her provider again and providing proof she's in treatment if she wants visitation, or 2. She stops seeing the kids.

If she argues she's "all better" then her pathetic $50 a month child support will have to be increased, if she's so well then she can work full time, can't she?

If she's well and asks for more time with the kids (i.e. overnights, which she hasn't had for over a year) then where will they sleep? She moved in her boyfriend and his three children. There's nowhere for the kids to sleep (she and the creepy boyfriend are sleeping in the living room as is), and I would imagine all it would take would be one overnight with 5 children in one little trailer for her to either crack up completely again (yay! LOL) or not want overnights anymore.

Either way, I believe she is going to be basically fucked in court.

Will be interesting to see if she pulls a "suicide attempt" when she's served this time. That's an old trick for sympathy. If that's the case it just makes our case that much more airtight.

Should be interesting.

I'm sick of spending all this $$ on attorneys though. We'll probably be paying until we are dead.

Looking forward.

2010-01-10T19:15:00.000-08:00

So I finally have something to look forward to. Mark, Deanna, Dave and I are going up to the Casino in Rochester in Feb to see Charo. Yes, "Cuchi Cuchi" effing badass Charo. (Charo is Mark's version of my Tom Jones obsession). We are going to stay over night. I talked my mom into taking the kids overnight, so it will be the first night without the kids we have had since August last year.

EFF YES!!!

Having these kids constantly is exhausting. It sucks, because their non-custodial literally batshit crazy mom is too sick to take them overnight, but well enough to mess with their heads for 8 hours on the First and Third Saturdays of the month.

I wish she was well enough to actually take them for any length of time. As stands though, we worry sick about what is happening because several very bad and very disturbing things have happened when they have been in her care in the past, and their mom is secretive about when she's on/off her meds and doing particularly badly.

Or, if she was just not around anymore (like she blessedly used to be) then the kids are easier to parent because they aren't confused all the time. It's hard to answer "Why does my mom lie all the time?" and "Will I get sick inside like my mom too?" and similar questions. They are very confused, and while we never talk bad about her to them, we know she badmouths us to them (have been asked "Why does my mom hate you so bad?").

Anyway, I am SO EXCITED to be able to go away with my husband with no kids, even if it is for one measley night. It's enough for me to be seriously looking forward to something for a change.

Running Scared.

2010-01-08T20:54:00.000-08:00

Nah, not that f*ckawesome 80's movie, I'm talking about the VA.

The social worker called me today, apparently she's still "working every angle." I think perhaps I put the fear of God in her. LOL. Ok, maybe not the fear of God but at least the fear of Sara.

I've managed to catch a stupid cold (thanks Dave). Just sick enough to be irritating. I am not hungry at all though, so hey, bonus! I ate some pizza at work at like 4 and that's the last thing I felt like eating.

I had a really busy day at work, which was a good thing, as I felt very productive. I haven't felt that way in a while. Depression is really insidious at making you lazy and feel like a worthless sloth. Having to kick ass today helped me a lot I think.

I don't really like talking about Depression. It's easy for me to talk about being pissed off, because it's ok to be pissed off in everyone's eyes. But really depression is just anger turned inwards, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm not weak because it happens. It's strong in my family, both of my parents have been on meds, my half-brother was a suicide, and I've felt this way off and on my whole life. I just got the bad end of the genetic straw on this one.

When I start getting all sad that I can't be a breeder I just think about the fact that I am not passing on these fucked up genes to a kid. That actually helps me feel a little bit better. I still cried the other day though at my friend at work's ultrasound pix of her baby sucking her thumb though.

Anyway, me blogging about depression is basically admitting that it's real. I used to try to hide this from everyone, and it used to embarass me. I actually got seriously pissed at my mom for telling my Uncle that I was on meds when I was like 18. I am over this now. And I realize that I will be on meds for the rest of my life. Or I'll end up with a shotgun in my mouth like my brother did.

Well.

2010-01-07T11:39:00.000-08:00

The VA is telling me my dad doesn't qualify for VA Nursing Home benefits. Am too mad to really break it down for you without lapsing into a profanity filled tirade.

So I applied for Medicaid. I sent the paperwork out today. I hope to God he's approved. If he's not then I am officially S. O. L. and I have no idea what to do next. Except call the VA back, rage, threaten legal action etc etc.

I'm starting to come out of a funk. I can admit now it was a really bad one. I wasn't suicidal, but I laid in bed just wishing I was dead on several occasions. Like, if a stray asteroid fell and wiped me out it would be no big deal for the world and a relief for me. I tried to minimize how awful I felt, as I didn't want anyone to worry and commit my depressed ass or anything, but I sat with my cell phone in my hand for half an hour the other day debating calling the doctor for a SOS mission. I pulled it together ok.

This is the worst bout of depression I have had in a while. This time of year is always bad for me. I had lots of trauma around Christmas (lol) in the past, my mom is about to lose her house and is still devastated by the loss of my Uncle, the Dad stress, and Dave and I have had minor financial problems of our own. I basically backed off of talking to anyone, and no one really seemed to notice or be concerned (except my mom, who knows what it means when she doesn't hear a peep from me). All of this together had me feel worse about myself. I don't ever call anyone to cry/complain, it's just not my style. Typically my cure is to go to the beach for the weekend, but there is no money for that. I also am feeling completely "Mommied Out" and desperately want a vacation from stepparenthood, which won't be coming any time soon, as their mom is still as crazy as ever, and my mom basically admitted the other day she's not going to take them overnight anymore because they are too difficult for her to handle, and they always break something at her house (I guess it happened more than she let me know, as she didn't want me to "feel bad.").

Today I feel exhausted and blase, not completely hopeless. Monday was really bad. I cried at work. I went in the bathroom stall and cried for like 10 minutes. Fortunately no one walked in to see it at the time, and I managed to pull it together.

I'm still kind of feeling sorry for myself. I've been reading Dalai Lama books and "fluff" fiction, as it takes my mind off of it.

My biggest complaint is that I have zero concentration. Even doing things I like. I am just all over the place, and flaky, which is not my M.O.

I'm going to work really hard on getting better. If I have to take off to the beach by myself to snap out of it, I will.

Le sigh.

2009-12-29T11:44:00.000-08:00

To make a really long story short, my dad's medical costs have eaten up all of his money. He started out with $250K, he wanted to go to the VA nursing home and leave the money to me. I refused. It wasn't my money! I have my whole life to earn money. Yes, it would have been nice, but I didn't feel right about it. My mom thinks he was going to off himself, and not go to the VA.

It was important to me that he be in the best place possible when he was still "with it." Obviously, the dementia had started, but he could talk, joke, move around. Now he's essentially like an infant, cooing different sounds and just shitting and pissing himself. I hope someone shoots me if I end up like him and my grandma (his mom) who was the same way.

Anyway, 5 years later, here we are. Out of money. I had two options: Apply for Medicaid or let the VA care for him.

I got the Medicaid process started, and realized in a hurry that I don't have even close to the 5 years of documentation they need, including his birth certificate, and info on his cars that he sold just before I went to Florida and got him in June 2005.

I cried, and stressed, and whatnot about it.

Now I've decided to just let go of it. I contacted the VA social worker, and I was incorrect in assuming he would end up at the state home in the Dalles, OR. I will have a choice in private nursing homes for him. His social security and soldiers pension will go towards his care, and his VA benefits will pick up the rest (he's service connected).

Thank goodness he served in the Navy.

I know this really will be the end for him, as I know the reason he's still alive is due to the extreme amount of care he's been getting. Caregivers sit with him for hours to get him to drink things.

This won't happen in the VA.

And I'm really okay with that.

Which sounds shitty, but at this point the lights are on but noone's home, and I know he'd want to be dead anyway.

I was stressing out about how to tell the current home he was leaving, and then after losing much sleep over it realized I was worrying about being judged. Since when did I worry about being judged?? I tend to not give a shit. So I thought.

But when I really think about it, in the course of my life, all I wanted to do was do right by my dad. When he hadn't really earned it. (For those of you not in the know, he bailed wholeheartedly when I was 11 - on Christmas Eve came home with a U-haul after being missing for 6 weeks. This is one of the reasons I hate or am at least blah on Christmas.) Yet, I always, always valued his opinion the most, always wanted HIS love the most.

Why????

I'm sure those of you with psychology persuasions will have field day with my Daddy issues. Basically I think I've just always tried to please him to fill that hole in my heart that can't really be filled by doing this. I hope to help my stepkids avoid this similar fate when it comes to their mom, but they will have to be repeatedly hurt by her in a similar manner, and all I can do it hug them and love them through it.

I've done all I can for him. When his mind was semi-there he was in the best place money could buy. I fielded his paranoid 4am phone calls, fought numerous battles with medical insurance, banks, etc to handle his affairs. Because he's my dad and he needed someone to help him. Because he's my dad and I love him, despite the fact that he had no business being a parent.

I think I can step back and be okay with it. The guilt button in me says I'm sentencing him to a death sentence. The other part of me feels like he's already gone, and I'm just letting the natural course happen. This will be my mantra for the next few weeks.

medicaid.

2009-12-08T10:20:00.001-08:00

If anyone knows how in the hell to help me apply for Medicaid for my dad, help!!! LMAO

I'm a bit overwhelmed with it right now.

Thanks!

Been a while.

2009-11-02T10:46:00.001-08:00

Boring updatey-blog, cause I just feel like it's time for a download.

Winter has officially hit the Couv. Dave scraped my windows for me this morning.

First, amazingly enough, Dad is still with us. I actually had an interaction with him about a month ago, like, he tried to talk to me. He's doing *gasp* BETTER. I don't understand this. His stubbornness to go just keeps him hanging on. I've thought long and hard about what in the hell he might be waiting for and I can't just figure it out.

My job is insanity. Like, I want to sit in the corner in a fetal position and cry when I come home insanity. At least I am employed, which is a lot more than a lot of people can say right now, so I should be thankful.

My parents are about to lose their home to forclosure. Stepdad is working but there are no sales in the car biz right now, and mom's hairstyling biz is doing ok but with beauty services being one of those optional things she isn't making money either. Plus, one of her full timers had to quit cause she had no clientel in this economy either.

I feel awful for them. She's trying to remain positive but I sense she's on the verge of tears constantly. I can't help them in any financial way, except perhaps help them with deposits/moving costs when the time comes for them to move out - which I am assuming will be soon, as a payment hasn't been made in 5 months on the house.

I'm having my typical "change in the weather" funk going on, topped off with feeling icky a lot of the time - Dave and I both have some stupid bug we can't manage to completely kick. I slept most of yesterday and feel a little better, but could lie down and sleep right now if I could.

Halloween was fun - Deanna and I took the kids and her kid out Trick or Treating and Dave stayed back with Mark in their haunted house and scared the crap out of people.

Thanksgiving is coming soon. I'm hosting this year - the 'Rents and Dana and her daughter. Invited a couple more but haven't heard. I need to get in the spirit of things.

I am basically done Christmas Shopping. I am done for the kids. Dave and I haven't decided if we are actually going to buy for each other or not. Last year we just donated to charity in each other's name and that was pretty cool.

Things have been very quiet on the legal/Cow front. Waiting for that chaos to start again.

I have a new obsession in "True Blood." I may have to break up with Edward Cullen for Eric Northman. Holy hell that man is amazingly gorgeous. I know, I sure get around, don't I?

Winter's birthday is on Thursday. She will be 8. That's insane. I've known her since she was 3. I've known her for well over most of her life. When Jori turns 11 I will have known him over half of his life. Both kids have had behavioural challenges lately, but been very loving and affectionate to me. I am thankful that Cow can't destroy this, at least. J asked the other day if Bi-polar was genetic. Dave reassured him that there was no reason to think he would grow up and be sick like his mother.

More Old Poetry 12-10-04

2009-09-04T15:49:00.000-07:00

In my dreams

He comes to me like a thief

In the night

Touching me with heavy hands

And soft words

Polishing my porcelain skin

Making me Shine

I still don't understand

Why

Sultry and wistful

Sensual and salacious

Loaded and forbidden

If he only knew...

Under Him

My Life could be over

No matter how hard I try

I can't cleanse him from my mind

Old Poetry Rediscovered 12-29-04

2009-09-04T15:47:00.000-07:00

"Enigma"

Somewhere
across the miles
there's a man
whose face I keep in frames
but only in my mind
hidden where I have
all the gifts I thought of giving
and the words
I never could choke out

I've never touched him
but he makes me feel
like an awkward child
in perpetual adolescence
our minds connect
and we are amplified
louder
in color
while the rest are in
black and white

I've never been so scared
as I wondered
if he was silently
watching me
through a sea of faces
in a place far from home
And yes, I want to go with him
but the promise of pleasure
doubles the price of pain
you leave at Home

we are like stunted seeds
born without a chance
guaranteed to blossom
in the right garden
that we do not dare explore

I think this is it.

2009-07-08T13:08:00.000-07:00

I went in and leaned down he made eye contact. When I held his hand he held it back, not sure if it was instinct or recognition, but it caused me to lose it.

Bawled for about 10 minutes.

Told him I loved him, he’d been a good daddy, that I understood he needed to go soon and that I was ok and he would feel better soon. For whatever that’s worth.

He’s thinner, which I know seems impossible. His skin is yellow, clammy, hot. There’s no way he can make it out of this, in my mind. This is round 2 with pneumonia.

Not a peep out of him, except for one half-assed cough. Sitting there with his head to the side, nodding off.

And so it goes.

I feel like the one who's dying. I thought I was at peace with all of this, but obviously I am not.

Wow.

2009-06-05T13:30:00.000-07:00

Just read on an entertainment website that my beloved Rob Pattinson is a possibility for playing Jeff Buckley in the upcoming biopic.

*cue clouds parting and angels singing* The combination of two of my strong obsessions combining in one fuckawesome event!!

Jizz…in mah pants!!! ROFL

It’s either him or that wussy James Franco guy. Dude Rob has to get it. Franco looks more like Buckley, but who cares?!?

Much at stake as to who gets cast here. For those of you unaware, I'm a Buckley FANATIC. Will post a photo of my painting of him later. It makes me sigh internally every time I look at it (much like the sigh at the beginning of "Hallelujah"). I still don't understand why such a beautiful soul was taken so young.

If you've never experienced Jeff Buckley, put on "Lover You Should Have Come Over." Listen as deep as you can - preferably in headphones. Even though the version on "Grace" is beyond amazing, the version on "Live from Sin-E" gets me every time in a way that the polished version can't - the shakiness and breathiness of his voice makes me absolutely weak. He bled his soul into everything and you can feel it.

And that is why I adore Jeff Buckley.

New obsession.

2009-03-28T23:19:00.000-07:00

Invader - street artist from France. He has a thing for awesome 80's video games. He installs mosiacs all over the world. I am completely fascinated and will find them. Oh yes. Many of them. muhuhahaha

http://www.space-invaders.com/

This is the coolest guy ever.I thought that the Toynbee tiles was the coolest street art ever, then I discovered this guy.

Dear Rob Pattinson,

2009-03-20T23:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Rob,

I find myself howling once again with laughter at my own Rob-inspired idiocy, and thought I would publicly embarrass myself for everyone’s enjoyment – because hell, that’s what the internet is for anyway.

I typically don’t go all fangirl over anything (well except a hot motorcycle, and maybe a sale at Nordstrom, and my dog, but I digress). I picked up Twilight because I wanted something mindless” to read. HA, joke was on me, I freaking loved it and ran out and saw the movie soon thereafter and that’s how I turned completely retarded for all things Rob. Fortunately, my darling husband thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen and doesn’t give a crap that I'm obsessed or he'd have dumped my pathetic ass by now.

I have a good job with a large corporation. When breaking company internet rules, I saw in my google stalking-er, research this week that you were the latest GQ cover subject. Breathtaking photos by the way, but Jeez, Rob, you sound pretty depressed. C’mon over and we can hug it out. Then I'll make you dinner.

Anyway, I decided to drop by the local Barnes and Noble to pick it up on my lunch hour today. I was not prepared to have an end display blazing with your hotness all over it (don’t know why – I am in Marketing for crap’s sake, and Twilight is hot right now) and I had a, uh, moment.

I grabbed the GQ and a couple of other smutty entertainment lying-type mags with your photo on the front and slapped them together, covers touching, so no one could see what I had in my gleeful little hands. I looked around like a wild animal, and very nearly tripped out of my shoes as I attempted to make a beeline for the cashier.

The first thought I had was that I felt exactly like I did when I visited a porno shop for the first time. Only slightly more determined. Then I decided it was more like when I was 15 and got my period at my Uncle’s house and had to get him to take me to the drugstore. Similarly, I prayed for a female cashier when it was my turn.

Instead I got the Sasquatch Man. Hair to nearly his ass and out of every orifice. *shudder* The fucking first thing he did is ask me was ask me if I was “coming back” for the midnight release party tonight.

“Uh, no” I told him. Uuuugh, am I that lame? If I went anywhere, it would be to Wood Village, OR where there are cast and crew members showing up tonight. And trust me, if I thought you would be in Wood Village I would have called in sick to go stand in line.

“We should have some DVDs leftover tomorrow anyway.” He said.

I wanted to tell him “You fuckwit, I have had it pre-ordered on Amazon for months.” But I just smiled sweetly instead.

Then he just tucked the receipt in the top magazine, thanked me and I was done. NO BAG. NO BAG FOR THE ROB PORN. I shoved them in my purse and got the hell out of there.

I rushed to the car to scan the articles quickly and before I knew it I was late for work! I’m not important enough at my job that I don’t have my own office yet, but I important enough at my job that I am noticed if I’m not there and I have a coveted hidden cubicle. Which is currently stuffed with spreadsheets, meeting agendas, and now ROB PORN that I can’t read until I leave in a few hours. Unless I can devise a way to tuck it under other papers that isn’t completely obvious.

So it is only you, Rob Pattinson, of English dirty boy hotness, that can turn me into a complete moron. Thanks for that. Sigh.

Lovingly yours,
Sara

RIP. Again. Enough already.

2009-02-12T23:23:00.000-08:00

So Dave's grandpa died last week. It's no joke to say that I'm sick to death of death. Really.

I just am shitty at this point and wish my dad would get it over with so it could all be done. I haven't been to see him in a long time because I just can't. I have to go this weekend though.

Today was Grandpa's funeral. I've never been to a funeral. This is on purpose. I don't like the idea of them. And after today I can officially say it's just not the idea of them, I just really don't fucking like them.Dave was rather stoic about the whole thing. I was feeling bad for him, I'd met his grandpa a few times, held his hand for a bit at a family function a couple of years back (he had a stroke some time ago and was in a wheelchair and struggled to talk, but we managed). He was a good looking man, and he gave my handsome husband and his kids their dimples.

The first thing that caught me off guard, and I'm still not sure why it would, was that the funeral was open casket. I had never seen a dead person in person before. I've got a morbid thing for serial killers and whatever so I've seen a billion violent photographs and movies and documentaries etc but never anyone right in front of me.It was fascinating in a way. It didn't look real. It looked like a mannequin or something. And the way they had the corners of his mouth pulled up, when he was a very stoic man, was kinda creepy.

I didn't want to stare, so I only glanced once in a while, but I still can't believe that was a real person.Anyway, to my complete horror, starting with the opening prayer the waterworks started, and once I started crying I had severe problems trying to remain quiet. And I didn't really know his grandpa that much, but I was listening and feeling everything that was being said, and all I could think about was my uncle, who I have thought about every day, and missed every day.

His memorial is next Saturday and I'm not going. My reasons for not going were practical - work, having to take care of my mom's cat so she can go, etc. But after my reaction today I think I would be doing the rest of my family a huge disservice by showing up and blubbering the whole time. And instead of in front of a few dozen people it would be over 1000 people (my Uncle D was a much loved guy). No thanks.I hate crying, and doubly hate crying in public. I wanted to curl up and die. And I felt guilty, because I wasn't crying for the man in the casket, I was crying for my loss, and my Dad (who I am too chickenshit to even go and see right now) and Dave knew it. So instead of worrying about his feelings, he has his arm around me, worrying about me, and every time he asked me if I was okay I just cried harder, how stupid.

I'm pretty sure a few people there wondered WTF my problem was and why I was so upset. Mercifully, Dave suggested we cut out after the service and not attend the lunch - if there's one thing he knows it's when I am nearing complete meltdown, and I was headed there.We went to Washington Square instead and ate lunch, and I bought a pair of shoes at Nordstrom, and just numbed the pain away with food and commerce. Whatever.

I feel completely exhausted, and now I'm crying again. Stupid grief. I wish it would just go away.

RIP Lux Interior

2009-02-05T23:23:00.000-08:00

WTF is it with all my favorite people dying?

Yeah, so what, some punk guy. Bullshit! The man was a legend, and the man was kind.

McMenamins Crystal Ballroom - 2004. I was with "Thee Ex" (asshole). We were killing time downtown, waiting for the Cramps show to start later. Hit all my favorite record stores, decided to go eat downstairs the Crystal.Guess who was in the booth? Yup, Lux and Ivy.

Since the Cramps were on my mind I'd just managed to buy a copy of "A Date With Elvis." It was in my bag. They ordered food, and I asked the waiter if they were drinking. I mean, this is Lux and Ivy, of course they were.I told the waiter I wanted to buy their bottle of wine, as the food was free, but the liquor was not. Cheap McMenamin's bastards. The waiter delivered the bottle of red, leaned over and told them who it was from.

Lux, his massively lean frame, leaned outside the booth, gave me a strange look, raised his glass. I smiled and said "Enjoy."A few minutes later we got up to leave, I was satisfied to give a little something back to someone who's music meant so much to me - who's music helped me survive many lonely hours grounded, feeling like a total freak and misfit, reminding me I wasn't alone, really.

Just as I was about to the door he said "And where do you think you're going?" moving his head around like a chicken. I noticed then his front teeth had been capped silver. I walked over to the table and introduced myself. I told Ivy how much she meant to me. How it was she and Joan that inspired me to pick up a guitar. She was tiny, and she was shy. I could tell she was touched. I asked Lux if they were going to play anything off of the new album.

"Why sure," he asked, "What do you want to hear?"

"I need Dr. Fucker." He laughed and then gave me another confused stare.

"Well why that one? All it is is 'Calling Dr. Fucker... Calling Dr. Fucker"... he bounced up and down in the booth, singing the chorus in it's entirety. People stared. I was in awe, grinning like an idiot.

"Nah, we aren't going to play that one. Sorry."

"It's okay. Thanks for all the great music."

"Thank you for the wine."

"My pleasure. See you later". And I did see him later. He signed my record. And just like the other 5 times I saw the Cramps they were brilliant.

Hard to believe I was that cool once, eh?

RIP Lux. Thanks for the great music.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

2009-01-11T19:19:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow (if I get it all cleared with my work - I don't anticipate problems, but was unable to get ahold of my boss over the weekend) I am leaving to go be with my family in Sacramento. My beloved uncle, my hero, my friend, is losing the battle with cancer.

He is due to pass this week.

My mom is going down there with no return date, I am due to return Sunday. I hope that I can be of some help to my aunt and cousins, who I also love dearly. The battle has been long and painful for them all, I know they are all exhausted, and I think I can at least offer an empathetic ear and some strength.

It is strange irony that both of our dads will pass this year, and mine has been on hospice much longer but is still (barely) hanging on.I tend to do well in crisis situations (believe it or not) while they are happening, as I can keep somewhat detached - detached enough to at least keep things together and offer perspective to those involved. I'm sure this has something to do with my detachment from everyone in general, but in situations like this having this sort of barrier is typically helpful.

I've only had one meltdown, albeit temporarily, about this situation, and the autopilot has resumed. The thing to remember about my uncle and my dad is once this sucky part is over they WILL NOT BE SICK anymore. And I definitely believe in God and "Heaven" (or higher power/nirvana whatever you want to call it) and that our time here is just one small silver of what is Real, and that their great journeys are just beginning.

While it is sad for us left behind, they get to go Home. And that can bring peace to horrible things like cancer.

I wish him peace and a fabulous journey, and I am happy that he will no longer be weighed down with his failing body. My tribute to him will be to try to help those that are left behind try to make sense of all of this and move once again toward Life.

See you all in a week.

And so it goes.

2008-12-11T23:15:00.000-08:00

Things have not been so great on the homefront. I don't like fighting with Dave. It doesn't do good things for me.

I was stressing hard because my dad's care cost has skyrocketed, and I was thinking, shit, he only has about 20 months worth of funds left at this new high rate, and dammit that would suck if he ended up in the VA. Then I went to see him Sunday.

He slept for a whole day the other day. He's managed to get skinnier, he's barely eating. He is barely walking, he can't get up on his own. He's winding down. The care providers basically warned me that they will be hugely surprised if he lasts 2 months.

This has brought me peace. Not because I want my dad gone, but I want my dad to be free of his failing body. I want him to be at peace. I am actually okay with it right now, and I think I'm able to say goodbye to him when the time comes.

I am thankful because he is not in pain. I'm thankful because I know he has the best care possible. I am thankful because he seems relatively happy these days, in his own little bizarre nonsense world. And he's going to go out the best way possible.

I was so afraid that he would be afraid to die. When he nearly died from cancer my father the Athiest asked for a Catholic Priest. When he was well the athiesm came back. lol.
So the fact that my dad is dying peacefully is about the best thing happening right now. :/

I decided I needed something positive. I am going to Paris. Dave initially tried to talk me out of it, "Do you think we should start small soon, in San Francisco or something for our next trip?"

No. I want fucking Paris.

I realize that a great part of my frustration with the homestead is I am trapped in the sense that my bohemian tendencies are reeled in. I can't just take off whenever I want. And I am sick of waiting to do what I feel like I need to do, and I feel life is passing me by.

So I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm not going to let anyone elses baggage or issues prevent me from doing what I need to do. I'm going to Paris by 09-2010.

Hospice

2008-11-03T21:13:00.000-08:00

I'm really ready for the Universe to stop fucking with me for a while, really.

Today at 10am was the Hospice intake. My mom watched the kids for a few hours so Dave could go with me. Just when I think I'm ready to make peace with everything something changes.
He knew me today.

He didn't say my name, but he looked at me. And he talked to me. Or at least tried to. It was like it was in the past - I got the word "socks" and he pulled up his pants leg to show me his sore. It was just like before, when I went there and he would go down his list of shit that was bugging him. He knew I was there, and he knew who I was. He couldn't answer my questions, and didn't respond appropriately, but he looked in my eyes, and was trying so hard to tell me something.
Then, clear as a bell he said "I really wish I had my wrench."

W. T. F.?

This is the most with it that he's been in MONTHS, and it's just messing with me. The nurse did the hospice intake thing, explained the whole process if he makes it past the first 90 days, how aspiration pneumonia works, how people can get used to it for a while until it just overcomes them, that he's strong and stubborn and obviously hanging on etc. The pneumonia is still there, still low grade fever, but his breathing doesn't seem labored.

So again W. T. F.?

Then the biggest bombshell of the day... my father doesn't have Alzheimer's. He has Lewy Body Dementia.

I was like "Where does it say that?" She showed me, and I said "Did this come from the VA or what, because this is the first time I have ever heard this." She wasn't sure.

So I get home and I research Lewy Body, and it's basically Parkinson's symptoms and Alzheimer's symptoms, but not either disease - a different brain atrophy process. And guess what I find out. Parkinson's drugs (which he had been on like SEVEN YEARS) make it worse. And anesthesia makes it worse, and people with Lewy Body often don't come back from general anesthesia to how they were, and they recommend other means of pain control for surgery.
And guess what the fucking VA did when he broke his hip three years ago? And guess when he really went whacked???

Dude, I found this out and freaked ALLLLL over again. The doctors made him WORSE. And I didn't even stop to think about it.

So I flipped out right, and was just so pissed, and wanted to break all their faces, and was bawling and yelling at nothing in the garage and just melting down and Dave took me inside and sat me down and basically yelled at me (in a nice way) that I had nothing to do with it and it wasn't my fault, and WTF was I supposed to think, they went to med school I didn't and I always researched his meds and diagnosis and fought for him and always tried to take care of him with all the energy I had.

I know on a mental level that he's right but DAMMIT...... I feel SO GUILTY, like I should have researched more, or gotten him a different doctor even though he insisted the VA was fine, and not believed those assholes in Florida that said he has Parkinson's and these assholes in Portland that said he has Alzheimer's. And if the VA did figure out that what he really had is Lewy Body (and after reading about it I am 100% certain he has Lewy Body, I mean he has every single thing, and it's like reading an essay about the last 5 years of his life, including the out of it for months and then moments of lucidity) they covered their own asses by not saying anything, and this is probably WHY they took him off the Parkinson's meds about 6 months ago.

God, I'm so pissed off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was talking to my mom and telling her I don't want to be there when he is actually dying and it scares the hell out of me and she told me he wouldn't want anyone there anyway, and she said "It looks like the two of you want the same thing." She knows him better than anyone else on Earth, as she lived with him for a decade and a half, and I know she wouldn't bullshit me.

And then I got on ebay and bought a Gucci purse.

I am Lamer than Lame is Lame, dude.

Bella.

2008-11-02T22:41:00.000-08:00

A stray kitten found me today in the parking lot.

I was going into the office to pick up a package and she ran up to me, all soaked, and rubbed on my leg and meowed at me. I told her "No baby", and gently pushed her out of the way.

The lady in the apartment office, who I hadn't seen before, was there, and she said "Oh God, is that kitten out there again?" We talked about it for a while and it seems some asshole dropped her off there and she's been around for a couple of months. The lady said "When I did inspections last week someone in the A building had felt sorry for her and let her in. You should take her!" I said "I am already at my fill of pets" (actually, Cole is already one over - ha) and she said "Who cares! I won't tell the owners! We never had this conversation. Just take her, please! I'm so afraid she will get hit by a car! I can't take her because my husband's allergic."

So yeah. I picked her up and she headbutted me and I said, "Hi, Bella." Her name just came out. I took her inside, dried her off, and she bonded with the dog instantly. Dharma is hella pissed off, hissed at her once and is pouting next to the Christmas tree. She and Cole checked each other out, got nose to nose, and then had a mini brawl, but not too bad considering.

She is absolutely gorgeous. Her fur is all matted underneath, I can't imagine how pretty she will be when I clean her up. She's grey tabby, long haired, with pretty greeny yellow eyes. She reminds me of my Cleo, who I had to put down a couple of years ago. I saw her face and I couldn't resist. She picked me, just like Cleo did. I went looking for Dharma and Cole and Dalai... the ones that pick you are somehow different. I can tell by looking at her teeth she's probably about 5-6 months old. She's very petite, and underweight under all her fur. She is absolutely the sweetest, most affectionate thing. It's like she's thanking me...

I'm going to drop her off at the vet tomorrow to make sure she's okay, and not pregnant. She's old enough to be pregnant. I'll have her shots done, and make an appointment to have her spayed.

Now she needs a middle name, or maybe eight like Cole. Wanna Help? Queen Isabella ?? ??? ????

I'm a little apprehensive because we are pretty much maxed out on animals, but what else could I do? She picked me. And I don't know anyone that wants a gorgeous little kitty.

Hurry up!

2008-10-31T23:07:00.000-07:00

I'm getting really frustrated - the VA has to give the green light for Hospice and like everything else they are taking their sweet ass time...

My dad is now coughing up blood with the phlegm, I'm sure this feels awful, I want someone to give him some drugs already. Plus, I think if I talk to Hospice at length I will feel better, knowing what will happen and what I need to do, and what I should do. He was sleeping at 8 ish when I called. This never happens.

I'm walking that line of wanting to know what's going on and wanting to stick my fingers in my ears and say "LA LA LAAAA" until it's over.

Deanna called me at work, and that was pretty much a brief dose of therapy (thank you for that) as she's been through all of this with her Grandma, so she gets how weird it is to watch a demented person die and all the jacked up decisions that need to be made. She says I need to tell him that it's ok to pass on. I don't know why I don't want to do this. Probably because every time I think about it I cry. And I don't know if he believes in God. And I don't want to make him freak out about dying. And I don't know if he even knows who I am.

I did get caught up in work, which is a miracle, I never thought it would happen this week. Throwing myself into that has been a good distraction. I sense a whole lot of reading in my future.

Better?

2008-10-30T23:06:00.000-07:00

So the old man is more stubborn than I thought. Ha ha.

He has lost every ability EXCEPT the wandering. Oh how lucky for the caregivers. LOL. Totally incontinent, can't communicate, tries to eat weird things, doesn't want to eat food etc.

Last night he had a 102 fever after 2 extra strength Tylenol. I slept about three hours last night (i think Dave slept about 4 1/2 - he's my champion partner in crime) and am destroyed. We went over this morning. He had no idea who I was and spent the majority of his time picking his nose and picking at the hem on his jeans.

As of 10:30 am he didn't have a fever. He wouldn't cooperate and let them listen to his lungs, so they don't know if his breathing is better or worse. Then they asked him some questions and he actually responded - he actually ANSWERED one. I guess they call this "rallying". Sometimes that happens, I guess, it's the last bit of fight in them.

The nurse is supposed to check in on him once again tonight. Even if he does fight off this bout of pneumonia it will come back, as he is aspirating food and water. He's forgotten how to swallow, and when things go down the wrong pipe they stay there, because the cough reflex is gone. This is a main reason why I don't want to treat it. What's the point? Ok, I get him better for a little while, then what? So he can repeat it? So he can pick his nose and shit himself?

So they are still calling in hospice. They asked the VA for authorization today. The caregiver (whom I consider an expert) says it's not immediate pending death, it's weeks or months left. The monthly rate for him now is $4800. Ouch. Who knows if there will be money left, I guess it depends how long he hangs on for.

I have an appointment at a local funeral home on Monday after work. I'm still fighting with Florida funeral home to get the funds back, but I figure I better pay now in case he does pass and then his funds are frozen.

I'm to the point now where I hope this is it for him, so to speak, because he's been suffering enough, and I feel in my gut that he's ready to go. The selfish part of me wants it over quickly too, so I can deal with it and move on.

It's weird, I went from sobbing about it to thinking all these weird selfish things, like I hope it's over soon, I wonder if there will be money left to pay off student loans, etc. Dave says I'm just obsessing over details as a way of coping. I don't know. I have never felt more exhausted in my entire life. Everyone is out in the kitchen carving pumpkins and I just don't think I can do that right now. I'm just waiting for the next phone call from the nurse.

Pneumonia.

2008-10-29T19:05:00.000-07:00

My dad has pneumonia. 102 fever, sudden.
I'm not treating it. It's up to God now.
I'm going over there tomorrow to see him. It's been over a month.
I am feeling a tremendous amount of guilt. But sending him to the hospital to be poked and prodded isn't going to help him.

Woot!

2008-09-09T23:05:00.000-07:00

So... my new job is officially going to rule.

The HR girl is my new best friend, as I commented on her Michael Kors bag, we talked purses for like 1/2 hour. She then let me know that I was one of over 300 applicants, and asked me if I'd cruise the mall with her on lunch sometime. Hahaha!!! She's rad, she had on lots of bling and she told me how she likes to change her hair all the time - she has a bunch of wigs she rotates to match her outfits. She told me I am the same age as her daughter. hahaha

There are lots of 30ish people there, which is awesome - and I asked about tattoos and no problem - a few people have piercings and funky hair, just all professional clothing, which I dig on dressing up anyway.

The girl that gave me the tour started whispering outside the CEO's office, pointing him out to me. His assistant whispered we could go in. His door was open and everything. She was all timid, "Excuse me, don't mean to bother you, uh, this is Sara, our new Print Coordinator." I marched over to him, stuck out my hand and introduced myself and he welcomed me etc etc. We had a brief convo. The two ladies looked like they were going to shit bricks. I don't understand why people get all weird about bosses. I don't get intimidated by people, everyone is the same to me. I would treat the janitor with the same respect.

I overheard her telling another VP after I cracked a joke "Sara is going to fit in great. And she's definitely not shy." No kidding. LMAO

Yeah... so it kicks the ass of my old job. Talk about movin' on up in the world. The girl who is vacating my job only had it for a year. So things are looking very very good for yours truly.

Moving on.

2008-09-04T23:03:00.000-07:00

Got the job. Coulda had both jobs. But got offered the one I wanted just after 5 today. I'll take a 10K a year raise, less commute, NO CRAZY DRAMA, an office without everyone's stupid CRAP and life coming FULL CIRCLE.

Let me explain.

When I was 23 and obviously temporarily retarded, I got engaged to the moron known as my ex-husband. I had a really good job as a Marketing Assistant for a foodservice brokerage and marketing group. Moron complained and bitched and moaned that I would have to TRAVEL (like twice a year) and basically manipulated me into quitting my job and I was stupid enough to fall for it.

I loved that job, and it was the most money I ever made, and as soon as I realized what I had done I felt like the hugest dumbass ever. And I was damn good at it too.

When I went back to work in an office I ended up temping for an insurance place and that's how I got stuck in insurance hell for these last 8 or so years.

Well, that job was the most money I ever made. Until NOW. And this is starting wage!

I feel like I am back on track. I feel like I've got myself back, on every level.

The philosophy there is you have to work hard, have a good sense of humor, and while education is helpful it isn't everything. I only have my AA, and they mentioned "Oh you have an AA" and asked if I wanted to go further, and I mentioned I wasn't sure. They discussed that they had tuition reimbursement, yet the VP of Marketing said "At Papa Murphy's we look at who you are, what you do, and not your fancy degrees. Our CFO doesn't even have a Bachelor's."

The one thing I've beaten myself up for screwing up is fucking around and not getting more school. And it doesn't matter here. I can do as well as I want to, and I'm so completely relieved. I feel set free right now. It was so time for me to move on.

Now giving notice is another issue. Not looking forward to it... ugh.

VA=CRAP.

2008-07-15T22:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the day from hell.

Dad had his annual VA physical, I took him. We got the wheelchair van to pick us up, which was a relief, as I had to make about a dozen phone calls to have him hooked up with that Service. It was next to impossible to get him into my little Hyundai. The primary care doctor is an asshole, no other word for it. We've tangled a few times.

So he's shocked at the condition dad is in since last year, asks me what's new, I tell him that he's up most of the night, incontinent etc all the typical dementia stuff. First he infers that maybe the home I have him in isn't adequate. Uh, no, I explain that they are great. He latches on to this incontinence thing (which has been a natural progression from occasionally to constantly, it's not like it just showed up overnight) and he says it could be prostate issues, which is easily treatable with meds. I'm cool with that treatment. Asks if he can do a quick bladder scan. I agree, am in the room with dad, talking to him while it's happening, it's quick and non-invasive. He's confused but he gets through it ok.

That comes back and he says he wants to do a quick rectal exam to make sure it's not the prostate. I hesitate, say I don't know if he can handle it, he says some BS like "oh, it will be fine."
I leave the room at this point for some privacy, then come back in, doc says prostate is fine. Says it could be a bladder infection causing the incontinence and he wants him to see a urologist.

I point out he has no other signs of bladder infection (like fever, abdominal pain), and if it is a bladder infection we are not going to treat it anyway. At this point he's absolutely horrified and says "You mean you are willing to let him die over a bladder infection?" I say "Yes, because that's what he wanted. Look at his DNR order. It says quality of life meds only." "Well a bladder infection causing incontinence is a quality of life issue." "The caregiver reports that he isn't even aware when he's being changed for the most part." My dad is nodding off in his wheelchair at this point. So we go back and forth and he puts through a referral to urology anyway. I tell him I'm not taking him. He essentially ignores me and is really rude at this point, infers I'm basically going to kill my dad, or I want to kill my dad. I get my dad out of there as fast as I can. He is very agitated at this point.

The thing also is about 2 years ago the neurologist (who I like) showed me his brain scans, and there was so little healthy brain material left, he was amazed how well he was doing, so it seems that that string essentially broke and his condition is matching the scans now. This isn't surprising. It's sad, but not surprising at all.

The second we get back to the home he loses it and starts crying, he's saying a bunch of stuff I can't understand, then he starts asking for pills, for ALL the pills and says "I'm dead… I am just dead…can't do anything anymore…I'm dead… I'll sign…" so basically he was begging me to give him all the pills so he could off himself. I told him I was sorry but I couldn't do that. I basically bailed at that point, because then I was crying, and the caregivers took over, and I told him I'd see him this weekend.

The main caregiver, who has become a friend of mine, asks me what the hell happened, I told her, and obviously even being poked/prodded that much set him off, as he's been very docile and happy for the last month or so. We both agreed Dr. Asshole should witness what we just did and then he could tell me that treating a bladder infection was quality of life.

When I get the letter about the urology appointment in the mail I'm canceling it, asking to talk to a social worker, and complaining about that idiot doctor. I had already put in for a change of provider but it's about 6 more months on the waiting list. I hate the VA.

I just completely lost it last night. I haven't cried like that in years. I don't think Dave knew what to do with me. I don't want to kill my dad. I hate that doctor for how he made me feel. I don't want my dad to die. But he is going to die. He is already dying, slowly. And who the hell am I to refuse let a natural process happen, when it's what he's wanted, and has vocalized many times before he couldn't communicate? Today I'm totally just wiped out, like I'm in a haze, and I'm on autopilot. I was happy to go to work. I just wanted something "normal" to happen today.

I am going to do my damndest to keep him out of as many doctor appointments as possible.

Broken.

2008-06-29T22:58:00.000-07:00

Today's adventure began shortly after 9am, when the caregiver at my dad's place let me know that on Monday he took a fall, and while he initially seemed okay, over the past couple of days his hands in particular swelled up more and he was bruising pretty good. She thought he probably needed to go to the ER. She offered to take him, and I decided I should let go a little bit and let her take him. I offered to compensate her extra for taking him.

Well, it seems he's broken some fingers, and everyone is amazed that he hasn't been complaining, she even moved them when she was checking him out and he didn't even flinch. I guess he's got a high tolerance for pain. The hours waiting for news were torturous, and I felt guilty that I wasn't there, even though the next best thing to me was there.
So the next decision was did I want him to be pinned (and therefore put out) or splinted. I chose splinted. I know he'll be wiped out tonight, so I'll go see him before work in the morning.

And so it goes…

Dementia Sucks.

2008-06-19T22:56:00.000-07:00

So yesterday I took dad to the Parkinson's/neurology clinic for his six month checkup. The doctor asked him what his name was. He just looked blankly ahead. The doctor asked him to point to the ceiling. He just sat there. The doctor asked him if he knew how old he was. He just looked straight ahead. The doctor asked him to clap his hands. He made a couple of fists.

And that was that. The doctor said at this point they are pharmaceutically backing off, as there's basically no point. He advised me that since my father is close to being mute, and when he isn't mute he is essentially talking nonsense, that the next step will be that he forgets to walk. When this happens he becomes bedridden. The doctor advised me when this happens that it's time to call hospice.

Apparently when that stage starts one of a few things happens: 1. pneumonia, as when someone with Alzheimer's can't walk, they can't choke if water goes down the wrong pipe like you can when you are healthy, therefore they essentially drink everything into their lungs. 2. a secondary infection of some sort, bladder being the most common, 3. a fracture, and the complications thereof. He asked me if we had a plan in place. I explained yes, and my father elected a DNR many years ago, and that we would not administer any antibiotics. The plan is relieving the pain so that he can go peacefully.

The irony is his heart is great, liver function is great, if it wasn't for this disease he'd probably live to 100.

Then after being essentially mute for the exam, we get in the car and he said "That guy never tells us anything." LOL

And that's it.

I did good though, I didn't cry. I mean, it's not like a surprise, but no matter how much you try to prepare I don't think it's possible not to feel the devastation of losing someone close to you. In a way, it's worse. I hope I just keel over when I'm old, instead of rot away slowly as your brain is eaten away by plaque. I don't want my family to have to go through a long process of grief as bit by bit your old self fades away.

He was having a good day on Sunday. He told me that he felt trapped in his body. I told him I was sorry. I told him Happy Father's Day and gave him his new shoes, and he was happy.

When I dropped him off last night and kissed him goodbye, he said "Thank you, sweetie." And that is when I got in my car and cried.

Coincidence?

2008-05-27T22:32:00.000-07:00

The old man continues to decline. As a result, I have stepped up Nursing Home search 2007. Part 2.

I've been pretty upset about this, and worried something bad is going to happen to the male half of my DNA, and it's kind of overwhelming. There are SO many homes, and they promise all this stuff, and there's waiting lists etc and I just decided to do the only thing I really could do... and well, that's pray, and ask God/Buddha/Allah whatever for a sign I couldn't really miss. Boy did I get it. More than once.

I went to one last night, it was in Salmon Creek, super big huge nice house, and the people that owned it seemed nice enough, but the referral guy was a little pushy, wanted a deposit etc all this stuff. I felt like it was a good place, but I felt the need to keep looking. Everyone there was in a wheelchair, and while Dad will be there soon, he still has this gimp about those that are really "sick" in his mind.

I talked to my mama, who knows everyone and her dog due to her chosen profession of Hair Stylist/Almost Free Therapist and she has a client that has a care home. She called her, and she didn't have any vacancies, but she left her a voicemail that she had several friends that also have group homes that go to the same church etc and left phone numbers.

Well between the combination of being deaf, and this lady's Romanian accent, my mom couldn't understand the names left on her voicemail but she could understand numbers.

So I have this list of like 9 phone numbers, and I reverse directory them, and only one comes up. I decide ah, well I'll call this one first, because at least I have a name to ask for.

I get busy at work, and mom calls back - she talked to her client again, and the client said her number one choice would be the lady whose name I just happened to find out. Ok, that's an interesting little coincidence. Ok.

So I call her, and she speaks perfect english, no accent, which is good - because my dad has a hard enough time anyway, and a heavy accent on a caregiver would be difficult for him. I like her instantly on the phone. She emails photos of the home and the room that just opened up, and there are more pictures of the residents than the home. This is unual, because 90% of these old folks places are trying to impress you with their nice furniture and fancy chandeliers, and that doesn't mean JACK SHIT. What matters is my dad is well taken care of and respected. So huge points there. Also, zero pressure from this girl.

I set up an appointment for tonight to go see her after seeing the pictures, and she emails me the address. It's 7*** Alabama Street.

My dad was born and raised in Alabama. Hmm, another interesting coincidence.

I get another lull at work, and I decide to call and check on the complaint records of these facilities. Most people don't realize this is public record and you can call and find out what happened.

Home 1, fancy one, has a complaint that was recently investigated on July 10th. The case is closed, with no evidence of wrongdoing noted, but there's no report available for me to look at. I discover they've only been open and licensed since March, which isn't the impression I got from the home. Hmm.That gives me pause.

Home 2, referred one, has zero complaints, and got a perfect score on every single surprise inspection. Hmm.

I go there, and the house isn't fancy, but it's immaculate and the people there are half in wheelchairs, and half not. Instantly I go up to the youngest looking guy there, and introduce myself. We shake hands and I flat out ask him how it is to live there. He tells me how wonderful it is and about how we are like a family here etc etc. He tells me I look young to have a dad in need of care, and that my dad must be young. I tell him "Not as young as you, I would imagine." He tells me he's 60. I tell him my dad's 74. He tells me he lives there because his kidneys are failing and he has seizures. He tells me he goes to the VA and was in the Navy, I tell him my dad was too, I crack a joke about waiting hours at the VA. I like this guy.

So I talk to the owner, Daniela, and she asks all the right questions, and has all the right answers to mine, she's sincere, and she has a good sense of humor. I explain to her that I'm looking for a place that my dad can stay at through the duration of his life, and ask specific questions about that. She has the perfect answer - she says caring for the vulnerable and elderly is her life's work and she considers it an honor to be able to assist people as they are in their final moments.
I decide she's hired.

I tell her I called the state, and she's the only one I asked about that got a perfect score. She's excited I did the footwork, and is excited to tell her husband - he walked by and she said "I told you people check!"

We discuss paperwork, timelines etc and talk for the better part of an hour. I like her more and more. We are similar in age. She tells me she worked at her mother's adult care home at the age of 16 and has been a caregiver ever since. She's in process of obtaining her nursing degree from Clark part time.

As I shake her hand and tell her I look forward to having her help care for my father, she gives me a brochure. I haven't seen it yet.

On the cover there is one picture - purple lotus flowers. Exactly like my tattoo. Yup, there's my final sign, in case I didn't pay attention the first two times.

Thanks, whoever you are up there. I will sleep well tonight.

Civic Duty can kiss my tired ass.

2008-04-20T18:54:00.000-07:00

So, I was voted a delegate for the 49th LD for my Man Barack Obama. Dave was an alternate, but yet again the Cow did not show up for her visitation, and so at the last minute he stayed home due to lack of child care. The "good" news is that the biznatch is in the hospital. We're guessing the mental ward again, as they are being vague as to why, instead of whining about her medical problems to try to get us to feel sorry for her. I would imagine our marriage and house-buying is what shoved her ass over the edge again, as anything good that happens to Dave ends up doing this.

Anyway. I had to be there at 7:30 to check in. One cool thing was the Obama people decided to send out an email to the people linked in to barackobama.com and have a food drive - by the time I got there to donate my few cans there were already 15 boxes! So that was excellent.
I stood in a very long line to get my badge, then another line for my ballot and booklet, and then went into the auditorium to sit. While I was there I saw Jori's 2nd grade teacher, a friend of Winter's mom, and our attorney! HAHA. You know you are old when the people you know have to do with your kids and not shows you went to etc.

Since voter turn out was huge everywhere, there were 5 Legislative Districts that met (it was LD and County combined, which was the first mistake they made) there were over 3000 delegates and alternates. We began to get behind schedule instantly, due to them severely underestimating the amount of time it would take to do anything with that volume of people. The agenda stated we were to get out at 1, no later, due to Passover.

To make a long bitching rant short, there was zero organization, you couldn't hear jackshit when they split us into groups, our LD had to move TWICE, and myself and a few other ladies took it upon ourselves to get the elderly members of our group situated, and it was BS that people with canes, crutches, wheelchairs etc had to be trekked up and down stairs and wooden bleachers. The process to elect state delegates was a total cluster, it was hot, we were starving and thirsty (with no food/drink allowed or even planned for in there) and by the time we got done electing delegates for the next level it was 1:30 - we hadn't even gotten to the resolutions (which there were like 15 of that we had to vote on - and it was good shit, like calling for impeachment of Bush/Cheney). I had a massive headache.

As soon as I turned in my ballot at 1:30 I had had it, I was about to go homicidal, so I bailed on the resolutions and took off. I wasn't the only one. I read this morning that so many people left that someone blew the whistle on quorum (i/e not enough voters there to make it a "real" vote) and so the resolutions didn't get passed! Which blows, but seriously, what did they think? We would sit there until 4 with no food or drink?

This was my first LD caucus, and I talked to people who were old school, and they said that this one was a bunch of crap, and they were shocked at how it all went down. I certainly won't volunteer for this again, which is sad, because I am a political diehard, and I know that if I won't volunteer, there are tons of other people that won't. Granted I've never loved a Prez candidate like I love Barack, but yeah. It was a nightmare.

Honeymoon in Vegas.

2008-04-09T22:53:00.000-07:00

So Vegas was super kick ass. I think I responded to everyone that left wedding well-wishes. If not, it's not that I don't love you, it wasn't intentional, and I still love you.

The day of the wedding was major chaos. Despite our waking up at the ass crack of dawn (4am) it was a close call getting there - security at PDX blew, and we had to practically run to make flight 1. For some retarded-ass reason we had to fly to Seattle and then to Vegas. At this point neither Dave nor I had eaten. If you've never been around Dave when he's not eaten consider yourself lucky. Mr. Mellow turns into Mr. Crabby Bitchass. Seriously, it's Jekyll/Hyde. So I got to listen to that for an hour and a half. Landed in Seattle and had to book ass again, but at least managed to grab some overpriced breakfast foods before boarding.

Got into Vegas on time, and had to wait FOREVER to stand in the rental car line. At this point Mr. Hyde was hungry again, and I wanted to choke him by the time we got to the restaurant. Instead I made him take me to the Outlet mall down the road, told him to get a massage from the place there, and get a coffee for god's sake. Then he was back to his old self.

We went to the hotel - I read on message boards that if you slip the desk clerk a $20 and ask for an upgrade you get it. Well, that tish works, so we got a kick ass renovated room on the 25th floor. At this point we were snacky, and needed to kill some time so we got some seriously awesome pastries from JJ's Boulangerie and ate them.

About an hour before the limo came to pick us up I had a major meltdown (payback for Mr. Hyde? HAHA) and freaked the hell out - I decided it was some bizarre version of cold feet that made no sense, and me freaking out over not wanting people to look at me, cause being all dressed up and walking through the hotel everyone talks to you and looks at you. Dave talked me off the ledge and we were off.

The chapel was pretty ghetto, which cracked us up, because we thought we were getting LESS ghetto than the drive thru. They made me hold these god awful fake flowers in some of the pictures, I flat out refused to carry them down the aisle. I also refused to walk down while Dave stared at me, and made him walk with me. I also told them ahead of time to leave the "obey" shit out, cause there was no way in hell I was obeying anyone. LMAO

The pastor said some sappy shit that made me all emotional, and then when he asked him "Dave, do you take this woman to be your wife, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health" blah blah he answered "I do, forever and ever." At this point I start crying like a wussy, and choke out my vows which make Dave cry like a wussy. He started it. Bastard.

Then we posed for a bunch of stupid ass photos that we knew we were gonna laugh at, and I bartered with the white trash chapel owner that tried to sell me them for $700. Ha. Joke. I went through and picked out about 20 of the 115 I actually wanted and told her I was on a budget, I only budgeted $300. Then magically the price fell to $550, then $500, and then $400, as "low as the company would allow her." I knew this was bullshit, but making sure I got the release to them I agreed to $400 and got them all on CD, in all their cheesy glory.

Then we took the limo back to the hotel, I got out of that damn merengue dress ASAP and into jeans and we went and ate at Les Artistes Steakhouse. I ordered the small cut of prime rib which was 16 oz - and I ate the whole damn thing. Hell yeah. We had super good masked potatoes with garlic and brie and mushroom. *drool*.

We wandered some casinos, gambled a little, and ended up in bed around 2.

The next two days we wandered the strip from end to end, only missing a few casinos we didn't care about. And then on day two was TOM JONES.

This is definitely one of the best shows EVER. If you haven't seen a geriatric old man air humping nothing and grabbing his crotch while he sings dirty songs to old ladies in the front row (and a few young ones - he winked at me at one point - hahaha YES!!!) you haven't lived. He played all the hits, and I laughed so hard I was bawling at one point, and trying to hide my face, because Tom Jones didn't need to see me laughing at him. Seriously though - the old man looks a mess, and moves a mess, but he can still sing like you wouldn't believe.

The flight back sucked - was major late, we got in at like 2 am, we were mega sore and bitchy, and it took us all weekend to try to reacclimate. Last night I went to bed at 8pm and slept all night and today felt relatively normal. Las Vegas will KICK YOUR ASS, people.

Oh the Drama. An Open Letter, if you will.

2008-03-27T22:51:00.000-07:00

We went to my parents for Chocolate Bunny/Jesus Resurrection Day. Have a massive amount of leftovers. My mom invited us and we accepted before his mom invited us. Plus, my mom is way more active with the kids on a daily/weekly basis, and they would want to go there anyway. Dave's mom lives 1 1/2 hours away too, so it's kind of a "thing" to go out there. We took the kids out there a couple of months ago to see her. Apparently this still upset Dave's mom, and she tried to guilt him into that hardly anyone was coming for Easter, but he held steadfast.

Apparently during this Easter Dinner of a few people discussion of the wedding reception came up, and one of the guests there was not one of the few that was invited. And is not a blood relative. Including everyone's kids the guest list including ourselves is like 35. It just so happened that the core of Dave's family were there. The crappy thing is apparently Dave's brother was voted to call Dave tonight and "just to let him know, X person is upset they didn't get an invitation" and then make small talk for 5 mins, trying to cover up the fact that they were the one voted to make the uncomfortable phone call. DO NOT DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS, PEOPLE.

This person wasn't invited for a couple of reasons. And so, I bring you a public service announcement on social etiquette!

1. If you are diagnosed with a major mental illness, it's probably not a good idea to announce this in the middle of a huge family gathering and expect for people meeting you for the first time not to think you are um, well, crazy. If you also don't talk to these people when they attempt to engage you in conversation this just reinforces the crazy thing.

2. The second time you meet your "relative's" new significant other (that is already serious, as they are cohabitating) don't ask your "relative" for their ex spouse's phone number or email because "you miss them." And don't ask this in front of the new romantic partner. This is particularly important if you don't bother to find out why the divorce happened, and that this person made their life and their children's lives a living hell, and continues to do so on a weekly basis. This point in itself is probably enough to ensure you won't get invited to THIS COUPLE'S CELEBRATION OF THEIR NEW MARRIAGE. Call the ex and badmouth them together instead, ok? You have an open invitation there, I would imagine.

3. If you didn't get invited, there is a reason. (see 1 and 2). Additional reasons for not being invited could be:

a. the bride and groom aren't wealthy, and very few people are invited (as in the Bride's family that is invited consists of thus: Mom and Stepdad. End of list. Groom's family consists of Mom and Stepdad, Dad and Stepmom, Siblings and their children, Grandma and Grandpa who can't come anyway but want to see the invitation. End of list. No stepsiblings on either side. No cousins on either side. No aunts/uncles on either side. Next on the invite list: those friends that are the "core" as in have always been supportive of said union and talk to/hang out with the bride and groom on a regular basis.)

b. you haven't talked to the bride OR groom, since you asked for the groom's ex-wifes contact info over 2 years ago

c. the bride and groom cringe, wondering what the hell you will blurt out during the reception because you obviously have no restraint whatsoever

While we're at it, and I'm talking about the SOCIALLY RETARDED, the following (unrelated) social etiquette rules should also be abided by:

1. Never ask someone if their girlfriend is pregnant when you hear that they are moving in. The above mentioned ex-wife snidely assumed I was knocked up when Dave, as a courtesy, let her know I moved in. She's lucky she wasn't in the room when I heard this, or she would have eaten my fist.

2. Never ask someone when the baby is due unless you actually see the baby exiting the woman's body. Even if the woman is shopping in a baby store. Even if her stomach is the size of the Titanic. This has never happened to me, but I've witnessed it, and friends, it is UGLY. I'm just sayin'.

3. Never ask someone when they are going to get around to having kids. They may hate kids (like Jay) or be unable to have kids, or just don't want them. Either way, it's none of your damn business who is a breeder and who isn't. Mind your own uterus.

And with that, I think my rant is over, having taken out my frustration on my keyboard.

FIVE YEARS.

2008-03-16T22:49:00.000-07:00

We have been at War for Five Years.

This is the result:
Military Deaths:
US 3992
UK 175
TOTAL: 4300
Average: 2.6 lives lost per day
Iraqi Security Forces and Iraqi Civilian Deaths:
8027 Security Forces
40,857 Civilians
TOTAL LIVES LOST: 53,184

This does not take into account the suffering of those wounded mentally and physically, the marriages that have failed as a result of these stresses, and the children that have had their lives turned upside down as a result.
(numbers from http://icasualties.org/oif/)

This is part of what my candidate for President had to say about today’s tragic anniversary:

"Five years ago today, President George W. Bush launched a war that should never have been authorized based on faulty premises and bad intelligence.This war has now lasted longer than World War I, World War II, or the Civil War. Nearly four thousand Americans have given their lives. Thousands more have been wounded. Even under the best-case scenarios, this war will cost American taxpayers well over a trillion dollars.And where are we for all of this sacrifice?
We are less safe and less able to shape events abroad. We are divided at home, and our alliances around the world have been strained. The threats of a new century have roiled the waters of peace and stability, and yet America remains anchored in Iraq.

I am running for President because it’s time to turn the page on a failed ideology and a fundamentally flawed political strategy, so that we can make pragmatic judgments to keep our country safe.

That’s what I did when I stood up and opposed this war from the start and said that we needed to finish the fight against al Qaeda. And that’s what I’ll do as President of the United States.
Please take a few minutes to read my strategy for ending the war in Iraq and making America safer. I hope you will sign on and show your support:
http://my.barackobama.com/fiveyearslater

Here are the core elements of my strategy to address our critical national security challenges in the 21st century:

End the war in Iraq, removing our troops at a pace of 1 to 2 combat brigades per month;
Finally finish the fight against the Taliban, root out al Qaeda and invest in the people of Afghanistan and Pakistan, while making aid to the Pakistani government conditional;
Act aggressively to stop nuclear proliferation and to secure all loose nuclear materials around the world;
Double our foreign assistance to cut extreme poverty in half;
Invest in a clean energy future to wean the U.S. off of foreign oil and to lead the world against the threat of global climate change;
Rebuild our military capability by increasing the number of soldiers, marines, and special forces troops, and insist on adequate training and time off between deployments;
Renew American diplomacy by talking to our adversaries as well as our friends; increasing the size of the Foreign Service and the Peace Corps; and creating an America’s Voice Corps. "
*****
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BRING THEM HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Every dollar spent = a vote for your beliefs.

2008-03-13T22:48:00.000-07:00

So, we are in the hardcore stages of wedding planning now. In checking out tips about various chapels etc I came across a list of wedding chapels that not only perform hetero weddings but perform GLBT commitment ceremonies. I called the chapel we had reservations at (the drive thru) and inquired if they perform GLBT ceremonies and was told that it was the individual decision of the minister, but in general they do not.

Having a mini meltdown, thinking we could not marry in April, was only a taste of what it must be like to be gay/lesbian and not have your chosen life partner legally recognized. And it dawned on me that even though Dave and I would be able to have whatever kind of non-legal ceremony we wanted, the fact that we felt so horrible (and I know I have friends who feel this frustration too) when it seemed out of our reach put it in perspective - I don't believe having the freedom to marry and having the freedom to be domestic partners if you are GLBT are the same thing.
So because of this, we switched wedding chapels. There will still be a limo, still be photos, but there is no drive through. Feeling how we felt last week also reminded me that marrying Dave wasn't a joke to me, and I felt the need to at least do it with a little bit of class - even though it's just him and I.

We are still marrying at 7pm April 1st - we are just doing it in a place where all people are welcomed. Because equality is what we believe in.

Also, we signed the papers on our house today - inspection is Tuesday and closing is April 30. Sounds like my goal of owning a home by age 30 is happening.

Delegate Sarafina.

2008-02-09T16:47:00.000-08:00

Briefly, because I have to get to CNN in a hurry

Today was the WA Caucus... Barack is going to take WA... my precinct had 8 delegates that will go on to County and Legislature - 6 of them are Obama 2 Clinton - I am one of the six... the Obama rep that was up from Portland asked me to talk to my peeps about Barack and I did. People asked me if I worked for the Obama campaign and asked me where to get Obama supplies... only little old ladies voted for Clinton in my precint...hahahahah. Talked to other precints and he was ahead there too, he's sweeping Seattle, he will take WA, babies!!!

This delegate thing means I get to keep voting for him in bigger elections, and if I keep getting elected again as a delegate I can go to Olympia, if I make it past Olympia I can go to the DNC BABY!!! It all depends on how hard I push for it, where the work status is, and travel expenses etc etc...

It's safe to say I'm completely fucking stoked. And DAVE is an alternate delegate! Woot woot! Woot woot!

*EDIT CNN JUST CALLED WA AND LA FOR BARACK!!

Why you need to caucus tomorrow.

2008-02-08T10:45:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is an important day for Washington and several other states. Tomorrow is the presidential caucus - 1pm sharp.

You may think that taking an hour out of your busy life just isn't possible. But I really truly believe that you can't afford NOT to attend a caucus. If work is an issue, employers are legally required to grant time off for voting and caucusing. You have no excuse not to be there tomorrow!

Those of you that know me well know that I'm politically active, and have been in the past, but this time - it is different! The importance is paramount!

It's no secret that I'm a Barack Obama supporter. I still remember exactly when I decided that he was the one that should be leading us. I was sitting in It's A Beautiful Pizza down on Belmont in Portland, watching the DNC. He came on and delivered that powerful, moving speech, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that several people in that room had tears in their eyes, myself included. I said out loud "Oh my god, that man needs to be President. What was his name again?"

I watched him grow and be elected to the Illinois Senate. I watched his voting record, and his speeches. From day one he was MY candidate. And throughout the years this feeling has only increased. I wasn't the only one. He was essentially drafted, by all of us. We asked him to serve, and he's heeding the call.

The media is doing a really good job now of mocking the Obama campaign. They love to paint us as a bunch of touchy feely liberals with our heads in the clouds. What they didn't count on was raising 32 million dollars in one month, with zero contributions from lobbyists or special interests. It came from people like you, and me, and my fiance, who contributed to a political campaign for the first time in his life. It came from single moms, who are so concerned about the future that they send off the only spare money they have because they believe in change, and they believe in hope.

The media tells me that because I am white and I am a woman that I am or should be a Hillary Clinton voter. As a feminist and a person I find it extremely offensive that there is an assumption that I should vote for her simply because she's a woman. This is as offensive as a man stating he won't vote for her because she's a woman. If you believe in what Hillary Clinton has to say, male, female, black, white whoever you are then vote for her.

I refuse to believe that simply because of her gender she has earned the White House, and I refuse to believe that just because of her gender she will truly provide us the change we desperately need.

Before you cast your caucus vote, I'd like to ask you to do a little research. Yes, you can start at Barackobama.com and Hillaryclinton.com, but obviously those sites are political propaganda. Don't stop there. Research voting records. Research where their campaign money comes from. Check out moveon.org and Fact Check. What you find might surprise you.

It might surprise you to see that a lot of Hillary's money comes from lobbyists, and even donations from those in the middle east, from political leaders who try to keep women as second class citizens. Check out where Bill Clinton has been getting donations from over there.

It also might surprise you to learn that Hillary voted to give President Bush carte blanche over the situation in Iraq. In contrast, Barack voted completely against the war from day one. The Clinton campaign tries to twist this, stating that he voted to fund the war later. What Barack voted for, after the war had begun, was to better equip the troops that were already over there. Do some research about how they would handle difficult foreign politics. It will shock you how different their strategies are.

Hillary's number one issue is Universal Healthcare. Are you aware that those that would be unable to afford the co-payments for health care and therefore refuse to sign up will be fined? Check out what's happening in Massachusetts for an idea of how this will play out, and how it's harming not only low income people but middle class Americans as well. Barack believes in offering healthcare to everyone, on a sliding scale, believing that if health insurance is in a person's reach, they will choose to purchase it. He believes we are smart enough to make our own choices without being bullied.

Check out the amount of money the Clinton campaign has received from healthcare companies, and then think about how that plays into her Universal Health Care plan.

I could go on all day about the inconsistencies in what Hillary does and says, but ultimately voting is a very personal decision. I sincerely hope that you are concerned enough about our country to make an informed choice. Do it for your kids, or other people's kids, or your grandpa that lives off of social security and can't afford his medicine, or your cousin that is still over in Iraq on his 4th tour and his marriage is falling apart. Do it for the schools, and hospitals, and the economy. Do it because you give a damn.

VOTE FOR CHANGE! This is OUR campaign! OWN IT!

Thanksgiving, my ass!

2007-11-23T10:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.fucklikeapirateday.com/
November 23!
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Mean Mommy.

2007-11-15T22:39:00.000-08:00

Both our kids were in the principals office today. Jori was in there initially for the fallout from yesterday's bus scuffle, and he made an encore performance for "threatening" a classmate this afternoon.

Winter decided to cut her own hair in class (yes, I know WTF), when ratted out by a classmate she was sent to the principal due to her behavior...

Dave had class tonight (it's seriously a curse - on his school nights one or both of them ALWAYS pulls a doozy, without fucking fail...) and so I called him to see what punishment he wanted me to enforce. Immediate grounding for this evening.

Got home, let them know Dad says they are grounded. The boy accepts his punishment, but the girl melts down. "I want my OTHER mommy, my REAL mommy, not my MEAN stepmommy! You and daddy are so mean! I want to go live with my REAL mommy!"

Yeah kid, I'm the evil stepmommy. Evil stepmommys stay home with you when you are sick. They go to your school conferences, and skip work to do so. They take you to the doctor when you are sick, and they stay at home with you and watch you when your daddy is at school, trying to earn a better living to provide better for you. They buy you school clothes, bandage up your sores, teach you how to read, teach you how to brush your teeth, teach you how to dust, teach you how to tell time, make you laugh when you cry, and help you pull out teeth for the tooth fairy.

Evil stepmommys make zucchini bread with you, and color with you, and buy you christmas presents, and stick "I love you notes" in your lunch every once in s a while. They also throw you birthday parties at Chuck E Cheese, because that's a really mean thing to do. They teach you about babies, and about your body, and answer all your questions about things like "What are nipples" and about the origin of your belly button. They take you to get your hair cut and get a pedicure on occasion too. They fill their work cubical with art work you made them just to be mean.

Evil stepmommys also certainly give up having their own "REAL" children so they can stick around and be mean to you.

I AM SO MEAN. I didn't yell at her. I didn't spank her. I relayed a message from her father that she was in trouble, and I am the MEAN STEPMOMMY. Once again, I'm left trying to pick up the pieces of these children, who are so confused because of their fucking idiot egg donor bio mom, and I HATE being the one that they hate, for no reason at all.

It sucks when a 6 year old can emotionally torpedo you. I need to toughen up. On days like this I'd love nothing more for her fucking ass to get the phone call from the principal, and try to explain why her kid is acting out.

Sunday.

2007-11-14T22:38:00.000-08:00

Sunday was kick ass - Dave and I had a date day - we went and saw "Control" aka the Joy Division movie. Loved it. Love the soundtrack (which I just bought). Anyway, while we were waiting for the movie to start we killed time in Nordstrom... which led to me buying an extremely adorable pair of Franco Sarto heels. I didn't buy any purses though, so THERE.
I did buy a purse yesterday though, but that's another story... lol

The best part of Sunday though was that I had one of those "perfect" moments. My mom watched the kids so we could go see "Closer" (one week only engagement). I was walking hand in hand in downtown with Dave, and the leaves smelled sweet with decay and swirled around us in little wind clouds of a warm breeze, and the sun was beginning to set and the buzz of the city was all around us, everything so urban and vibrant and...us. It was just one of those moments where all in the world is just right. I leaned over and kissed him as we waited at the crosswalk, and as we walked we had a conversation about how we are so completely city people that we may never buy a house while the kids are around. I think we're going to save for a city loft instead. Another one of those ways we are so fantastically compatible...fuck the white picket fence, we want a doorman!

Back to reality though, with various behavior problems with the children all week. Highlights include Winter locking my mom out of her house (on purpose), fit throwing, the front door being left wide open (I was home alone, this was on their way out the door) and I had to retrieve Coley from the front porch, and the crown jewel - Jori's schoolbus fistfight, which led to the complete demolishing of his glasses. Gotta admit though, am proud of the little scrapper... he takes after me in that regard - lol. Proof that just because you wear glasses you aren't a wussy.

Birthday.

2007-09-23T22:35:00.000-07:00

So I'm old.

Not only did Dave let me fall asleep at 9pm on 09-21, he let me stay asleep until 9am. 12 hours of sleep = Sara in a very very good mood when she wakes up!! So I woke up and went into the bathroom to pee and there was a note on the bathroom mirror - a pirate map with a birthday sonnet and a clue... a birthday treasure hunt!

So I ran around the house and out to the car etc solving mini mysteries and getting clues and uncovered my presents - a mega rare Ted Bundy book that officially rounds out my collection (fuck yeah I'm weird) and the diamond earrings I've been drooling over and wanting for the wedding! YES! He is the awesomenest almost husband ever!!

Then we got ready and went to Gustav's for lunch and I got to be lazy all day long and do no chores. I got a yummy white chocolate cake from Larsen's bakery and it was kick ass!!

So that was my birthday. Being 30 is pretty cool so far.

Dad.

2007-07-11T22:30:00.000-07:00

So I took my dad to the doctor today. We have a new neurologist, because the old one left to be a doctor for a real hospital and not the VA.

The new guy is pretty cool, and took an hour with us, answering my many questions. I just wish he had better news for us.

He had a CT scan that my dad had done recently, and there were some surprises there. He started off with the good news: "Well, it looks like he hasn't been having strokes like we thought were happening, and that looks really good."

The bad part is though, that the CT showed that my dad's 1 problem isn't just Parkinson's - its Alzheimer's. Stage 5-6. Yes, he has Parkinson's symptoms, but according to the new doc the major problem is Alzheimer's.

He ran a bunch of tests, which didn't go well at all. I expected that, as he's been more "loopy" than usual. He kept looking at me with this helpless look in his eyes.

"What year is it?" "Uh.... nine?"

"What branch of the military were you in?" "Uh.... I don't know..."etc etc.

He told me to expect my dad to go mute within the next year. Muteness happens in stage 7 - the last one. He's off the dementia drugs, because he's past the point of where they will help him. He's being weaned off of some of the other ones too, because they aren't going to help him this far in the game.

So I'm getting all of this unsuspected bad news, trying not to cry, trying not to freak out that my dad's mom died in a nursing home from the very same thing, and trying not to think that I take after that side of the family, etc etc and asking questions like "When will he need a memory facility?" "How will I know when I need to do XYZ". I'm being very careful to try not to use the word Alzheimer's, because my dad freaked out when Gramma got it - he put her in a home and bailed. He was too freaked out to deal with her, and so he didn't. (I can't help but think of Karma here, as much as it breaks my heart).

So I'm walking him out to the car in my sunglasses, so he can't see me starting to cry, and he says "So what did the doctor say, honey?"

After all of that, no fucking clue. What was I supposed to say? "Well dad, you'll be a vegetable within a year, probably. It shows over 50% of your cerebral matter is dead." Wouldn't that be a nice thing to tell him?

I answered, "Those pictures we looked at of your brain showed that you aren't having any strokes, and you get to take two less pills now."

"Well that's good." He answered, smiling.

I have about a year until I won't see my dad's smile again. That goes with the speech deficiency, he will have zero facial movement aside from drooling and the occasional grunt. I didn't expect this... I hope he dies so he doesn't have to slowly shut down piece by piece, for his sake.

I don't have to go back to the VA for 6 months. This is good, in one sense, but I can't help but think that it's because they know they can't do anything else for him. We've been going at 3 month intervals before.

I need to meet with an elder law attorney, and see the best way to maximize my dad's assets and get him ready for the best sort of skilled nursing place he can afford. It looks like we're going to be there sooner than later. I heard that when you put them in a home they take everything from them, you sign it over. I don't want that to happen - because if the place sucks, then I won't have his money to move him somewhere else.

The Mom and Dads.

2007-06-29T22:24:00.000-07:00

So a guy I work with just bought a house from some friend of his, who was selling it because his dad (who lived there) died. So there was this house full of crap. The old dude never married, and I guess he packed away everything.
So Pat (the co-worker) comes up to me two days ago, and he says "Hey, you're the one that's always getting records in the mail, right?" Heh. Busted! I say "Yup..." He says "So I'm cleaning out Victor's house and getting stuff ready for Goodwill, and he's got about 200 record albums. Do you want them?"

DO I FUCKING WANT THEM? Hell yeah!
Now, before you all get too excited for me, over HALF are Lawrence Welk or Lawrence Welk related stuff. They are all in perfect condition, and Dave had the really good idea of donating all of them to an old folks home.

There are also a shit ton of POLKA records, some of them have little gnomes on them and shit and so therefore they are awesome.

There were a few gems in there - Tennessee Ernie Fords, Hank Snows, old Honky Tonk stuff that I dig on because I was raised on it... but then... there was a full collection of MY NEW FAVORITE BAND!!!

Yes! You truly haven't lived until you've heard THE MOM AND DADS. Only ONE Mom and THREE Dads. I bet she was a dirty slut.

The record itself, with a 1976 biography, explains all:

"The Mom and Dads story is truly one of silent success. In the razzle dazzle record business, they are somewhat out of place. Their music does not get played on Top 40 Radio Stations. In fact, it receives little airplay at all. Try and find a Mom and Dads record on the best seller charts..."

Hmm, now WHY would a polka band from Spokane, Washington NOT be on the best seller charts? That just seems WRONG.

However!!! "Their first album 'The Ranger's Waltz' has achieved deouble platinum success in Canada." CANADA! IF YOU POLKA YOU ARE ROCK STARS IN CANADA!!!

I love Canada, and I really love The Mom and Dads. I'm keeping one of their albums. If any of you want one, tell me, and I will mail one to you. HAHAHA But be warned, it's all polka, NO singing.

bwahahahaha!!!

Pebbles.

2007-06-14T21:53:00.000-07:00

Why am I still awake? Because I'm a huge sucker and can't sleep without Dave around now. How bizarre is that?

And why isn't Dave around, you ask?

Well. Winter was complaining that her ears hurt tonight. After Dave sat her down and started to talk to her about why her ears hurt she admitted she put the little plastic pebbles from the school pseudo-sandbox (psuedo because its a giant box filled with plastic pebbles instead of sand to dig in) in her ears. Both of them. We tried flushing with warm water and were unsuccessful.
So Dave is currently at the Kaiser in Portland having the doctor dig the little things out of her ears.

While Dave was on the phone with Kaiser she howled loudly until I scooped her up in my lap and told her that her screaming was scaring the dog, and if she was quiet the dog would come see us. She quieted down, snuggled into me and the dog and passed out until Dave was ready to take her to the hospital.

Moments like that are really great... I get to be her mom when she needs it.

P.S. 13 days until my lasik. WOOOT! If anyone has GOOD stories to tell me, please do, as I'm done hearing horror stories of corneas mangled.

P.P.S. Today I got paid and I went on a HUGE record binge on ebay and an import site I found. Bad me. I know I'll be at 600 albums before year's end. HAHAH!!!

Growing Pains.

2007-05-07T21:49:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time he stole my heart. We were walking around my old 'Hood in Portland, headed to his favorite restaurant - Nothing But Noodles.

In his 5-year old innocence, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes and said "Sara, will you be my next mom? I don't want Brandy to be my mom anymore."

If I had a dollar for every time he said "My Sara, you look so beautiful today," or "Sara, you're my favorite woman in the WHOLE world," or my personal favorite: "I love you more than 4 billion and three people" I'd never have to work again.

The boy who wants snuggle time, takes pride when we are out and someone says he looks just like me, isn't mine anymore... she took him back. Because she had him first.

All it took was two measly visits with her. Two visits to her slum, surrounded by strangers, the freedom to choose inappropriate movies and video games, and her willingness to be manipulated by his now 7 year old mind - he whined he NEVER gets to play outside at our house... never... despite my effort last Sunday when I was sick, and I took him and his sister outside, taught them how to throw a frisbee, planted some seedlings with them, watched them play and laugh and perform "tricks" to me in the yard, as their dad was busy inside doing homework... despite that I spent over three hours teaching the two of them how to play Old Maid, War, and endless hands of Go Fish...

Now SHE is back and I am nothing.

At dinner tonight I made a comment I have made hundreds of times before, "Well son, that's just the way it is."

"Why did you call me son?" he asked - and then the glare.

I said nothing. I didn't know what to say. Instead I was haunted by future visions of his 14 year old anger, screaming at me "You can't tell me what to do! You're not my mother!" and me yelling back "You know what? You're right! But you have to listen to me anyway!"

He will never know that I didn't take fertility treatments, that I didn't try for a baby of my own, which I want more than anything, because I knew he needed me more than the unborn child I didn't have did. That they both would need me more, because she will let them down again and again, and I will be there to help them up. He will never know that sacrifice. He will just hate me instead, because SHE will hate me. He will protect her broken and pathetic existence because He is Hers.

His sister isn't lost to me yet. She came in after daycare today and yelled, "Mommy Sara! I'm hooooome!" and rushed back to show me the penny she found today that she was so excited she gets to keep... she came out to dig in the plants with me, and she asked me if I would tuck her in.

She still wants me. For now.

Will I have to lose her too?

About five minutes before bed he asked me if I wanted to play "Operation" - a last minute ruse to avoid bed time.

"No Jori, there's not time." I said.

Raising another woman's children just might break my heart. Sometimes I really wonder if it's worth it and I just want to be called "Mom" again and feel it's true.

Updating.

2007-04-12T21:45:00.000-07:00

I made reservations in Rockaway Beach and we took off for the weekend. It was a good time. :) We watched a lot of Viva La Bam while we had a few drinks, played cards, shopped, and walked on the beach.
The coolest thing is I applied for graduation for my AA (finally) - I have all the credits done, I just need 6 more "specified electives" to get the college to give me the degree (some stupid rule about last 45 credits need to be from there). I want the piece of paper before I transfer to Washington State. I'll have it in my hands and on my transcripts in December.

My uncle went back under the knife again - we are all worried sick about him. He's tough, and a fighter, but this is the last time they can remove tumors due to scar tissue. There's only drugs left after this if it comes back. I pray they got it all and he's good as new now. It was in the same area the big tumor was, so hopefully it was just leftover.

In idiot news, I dropped a full glass jar of dip on my foot last night (and it bounced, leaving two lovely purple half moons on the top of my foot). Initially I thought I broke my foot but now its just all bruised, swollen and screwed up (no range of motion etc). I'm sure I screwed up some ligaments or something. I can stand on it, even though it hurts, so I know its not broken. Dave took good care of me as I fought back tears sitting with it elevated and iced, and yelled at me to lie down when I was hobbling around doing laundry. He knows that if I'm crying over an injury its a nasty one. HAHAH! Shoes suck, but my Uggs don't make me wince in horrible pain, so I just wore those today. HAHAHA

Returned.

2007-03-21T21:40:00.000-07:00

I have returned from Colorado - aka Redneck Republican Evangelical Twilight Zone. Ohh yes. There should have been a TV camera following me around - "Look at the city girl! Sleeping in a room with $500,000 worth of firearms and dead animals surrounding her! Look at her miraculously manage to keep her mouth shut as the Bible thumpers tell her that George Bush was sent from God to save the country and Newt Gengrich should be our next president! Look at her run in fear from the scorpions in the yard!" I survived. They are nice nice people. Just very... different. In a 180 degree different world than I am in. It was bizarre. I'm still glad I went though. It meant a lot to both of them, I know. Lots of sun and going to bed early.

Took Dad to the doctor today. Was a very good and a not so good day there. Was good because he was in a real good mood. I shared with him Dave and I are engaged and he was real positive about it - he said "I like Dave, he's a good kid" and patted me on the knee. Asked me a couple questions about the kids etc. I half expected him to flip me a bunch of crap about my divorce or something but he was 100% positive.

He took a memory/dementia test - its 20 questions - basics like "What city are we in?" "What year are we in?" to "Spell 'World' for me." In the past 2 years he's gotten scores of 14-16. January he got a 14. Today he got a 9. Not good. So she's put him on another dementia drug, because his memory is slipping at a pretty alarming rate. The antidepressants seem to work though. He's not feeling social at all still but he's not as crabby.

He's still having very vivid dreams about cops showing up, parties upstairs, people in his room playing guitar, bugs biting him etc. The doctor very logically walked him through what was happening at night and got him to realize these are very vivid dreams and not really happening because they just aren't possible, as he's been insisting to me they have been. None of his "But you don't live here!!" shit. So that was also positive.

The best thing is though that she ordered him a special walker - he's so tall that he despises the "regular" one - he has to hunch over to use it, which hurts his back, so he only uses that damn worthless cane. So he's pretty excited about the new walker, as it makes getting around SO much easier. I'm relieved because he's so wobbly all the time that this will really help prevent a fall. I will worry much less about him with it.

Sidenote: if there's anyone in the PDX area that knows where I might donate his old walker (I want it to go to someone that really NEEDS it and isn't just too cheap to buy one) please let me know. The VA isn't the place to donate - as he got his newest one free from the VA...
After the doc appointment I asked if I could take him out to dinner. I asked if he wanted steak, pasta, anything. He picked KFC. HAHAH!!

Then the best part of today - when I dropped him off I kissed his cheek and told him I loved him and he told me "Thank you for dinner and such a nice day today." I about fell over. It's moments like that I will treasure when he's gone.

Dadness.

2007-02-09T21:37:00.000-08:00

To TRY to make a long story short: Wednesday when I was taking my math test, I turned the ringer off of my phone, and neglected to turn it back on when I was done. As a result I missed a call from Old Person Fuckwit Central - "Uh, Hi, your dad is out of Mirtziapine. Please being us more."

YES, this is the very same drug that I confirmed with the head nurse over there lsdt week that there was an ENTIRE NEW BOTTLE of it, just like I said, that they found.

Well apparently the Med Aid didn't find it because she's FUCKING DUMB and so yup - my dad didn't get his antidepressant on Wednesday night.

GAME OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I gave his 30 day notice, and then wrote a big long letter to the corporate office hammering out how that place is disorganized and really let my dad down. I've said it before, and I will say it again - don't fuck with my family!

So I talked to dad Thursday night and broke the news that he was moving. He basically completely melted down and freaked out, just total chaos, blah blah. BUT I did get an appointment at the new old folks home (for those of you remembering/caring - the nicer one that doesn't have advanced care, but was nice and CLOSE) for today...

I called my dad's cousin for reinforcements, as he's really good at telling Dad to shut up and listen to me because I've got this tish under control. So today he was calm, and we went over, looked at some apartments, and I decided to let him choose which one he wanted, because then he can't bitch at me later that I chose wrong. He chose the smallest one because (ready??) he liked where the A/C unit was. He could have had like 100 more square feet for $90 more but didn't want it.

Whatever.

So on the way back from the Couv to PDX as I'm on SR500 he tells me "Uh oh, I have to pee."

"No problem, I'll get off on the next exit."

"God damn it. I just pissed myself."

So I pull off the highway, get him to the nearest bathroom to have him finish, clean up a bit, etc. Got him home, changed and cleaned up.

My entire passenger seat was just soaked. *sigh* Well I guess the new car is broken in.

So then I went to the carwash and used the upholstery shampooer and got it pretty much cleaned up - I will of course have to treat it with Nature's Miracle or something to completely get it wiped of any smell. It wasn't as bad as I thought.

Anyway, we are moving him in on Feb 24th. Next order of business is to find him a twin extra long adjustable bed and a recliner chair.

Cancer Sucks.

2007-01-30T21:35:00.000-08:00

It seems like I am hearing about someone else getting it every week now.

Anyway. The latest victim is an old family friend. From my mom's email:

"Guess who called me tonight? Paulette W****. She and Jim put an ad in the Hibbing paper to try and find you and they called the Hibbing Tribune and found Gramma's phone no. and called her and she gave her my number and yours. They didn't call you cuz they thought you wouldn't remember them. It was really good to talk to her. She said Jim is 70 now and he is dying of cancer and he said he would like to find his "Sasoo" and just talk to her. He had colon cancer 5 yrs. ago and now it is in his lungs and bones. He has just started chemo and finished radiation this week. I know they still think the world of you and they have no kids together and always thought of you like their's. They put in the ad that Auntie Paulie and Uncle Jim were looking for Sasoo. I told her I would tell you about them and that I was sure you'd call them soon. They are dying to talk to you. I told them all about our life etc. f rom when your dad left and they said you sound like a wonderful girl and they always knew you would be. "

Sassoo is my old childhood nickname. I just bawled when I heard this. I mean, they put a freaking ad in the paper in my Grandma's hometown trying to find me. My dad had a falling out with Jim way back when my parent's were still married (they divorced when I was 11) and my mom lost touch as a result.

I traded an email with Paulette this morning, cried through the whole thing. Gave her my phone number and school/work schedule, hopefully they will call when he's up to it. He's in Chemo today.

This makes me feel honored and special in a way that I never have... that it's the wish of a dying man to find the little girl of his ex best friend that used to come and visit some 20 years ago. I used to stay the night over there on occasion and they used to send me presents from their travels all over the world. I hadn't even thought of them in probably 15 years.

I guess I never really imagined I'd ever made that big of an impression on anyone. Very emotional today. Weird feelings all around.

If he's well enough to get visitors I feel compelled to go to him, and I'm not entirely sure why... what do you say? "Thanks for loving me all these years, sorry you are dying?"

Cancer sucks. I need to go to Colorado.

Question.

2007-01-14T21:21:00.000-08:00

How is it that I can be completely unafraid of death, and completely terrified of getting old?

Early Christmas

2006-12-15T23:17:00.000-08:00

The only details that matter:
I'm sitting in my new jammies, with my new slippers on, wearing my new diamond earrings that Dave bought me.

And I'm drunk.
WOOHOO!

That is all.

Down the rabbit hole...

2006-11-08T21:12:00.000-08:00

On many occasions I've mocked my Yoga From Mars teacher. She's sooo out there and in her own world and I have really struggled with connecting. On many occasions I've bitched about that class, and rightfully so. Last night though, I was "pinged".

She came into class and told us all that it was her birthday, and that it was a bigger celebratory occasion than just her birthday. She told the class that she was going to tell us her "Infertility Story." This of course got my attention, given my recent medical diagnosis.

She had spread out around her, in frames, photos, all of which were of an Indian (as in Eastern, not Native American) boy - at various stages of his growth. She explained that this was her son, Elliott. She told the story about how she and her husband were number 26 on a waiting list to get a child from India.

On November 7, 1983 (her birthday) she received a call from a social worker, telling her that a premature boy had been born in India two days earlier, and offering him to her. She of course accepted, and began to make plans to bring her son home. She had to wait almost 2 months, because he was so premature, and then she went up to Seattle to get him.
There were 9 Indian babies on that flight, and there were two women escorting the babies. When her son was handed to her, the Indian woman told her "Of these nine, this one is special, you are blessed." She was so ecstatic that she was finally a mom that she didn't really pay too much attention. They had an instant and deep bond as mother and son.

When her son was three, he insisted on calling her "Little Mommy" and her husband "Little Daddy." When asked why he called them this, he stated matter of factly that he was older than they were on the inside. He also told her that he came from her. She explained to him, as best she could with his young age, that he didn't come from her body, he came from his India mommy's body, but she had wished for him and he came from her heart.

He told her, "No...no Mommy. I was in your body first, I just couldn't get out. So I had to go back up and come back down into my Indian mommy so that I could come and be with you." I JUST COULDN'T GET OUT. How does a three year old even think such things?

They say that children understand so much more than adults, and the "real world" beats it out of them.

After this discussion, we did some yoga poses and relaxation meditations, and she gathered us around again for birthday cake to celebrate her special day. She then told us, "All of these people in these photos, with the exception of my son and I, have one thing in common. This is my mother, this is my father, this is my husband, this is my brother, this is my grandmother..." she pointed them out in each photo.

"They are all dead."

She went down the row of photos, stating the ages of the people when they died - some were younger than others. When she got to the last photo, of her husband and her son, she said "And I lost my love, my husband, when he was 34."

She decribed how she very nearly went mad with grief, losing all of her family, except for her son, within 5 years. And she described that the one thing she learned through all of her pain was to live in the moment, and this is a big part of why she "doesn't hold back," which of course explains her loopy behavior in class.

Someone piped up in class and asked what happened to her husband (which I thought was intrusive, actually). She teared up a little, thanked her for her interest and refrained from answering. All she said was "my son and I never got the chance to say goodbye."

Then she asked us all, "What would you do if you discovered you only had 5 days to live? Because really, any of us could only have 5 days to live." My answer was to marry David, and go to Paris. She asked me "Why Paris?" I couldn't really specify WHY when asked, besides the fact that I've felt called there my whole life. She asked me what I wanted to do while I was there, I told her I wanted to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, ride the Metro, go to the Wine Country, shop in the market, be in Paris.

She instantly guessed that my life was fully of many responsibilities towards others - and my Paris dream is the part inside of me that wants to do something just for me - a yearning to be relaxed and on vacation, to be able to be a tourist and not have to have responsibilities. She of course knows nothing about my lifestyle, my dad, Dave's kids, how maniacal my life can get. And I realize on one level it's just basic psychology, but I suddenly felt very emotionally touched that she could see that part of me - that part yearing to be out and immersed in another world and culture, and the wanderlust explorer in me. She told me that the traveler in me needs to get out, that I need to be more in culture and be stimulated in that way.

She then asked me what was stopping me. I laughed, and said "Well, just like you inferred, responsibilities. Mainly money and time." She asked me what money was. I stated it was a form of exchange used to obtain goods or services. She laughed and said, "Yes, but what money really is, is compensation for your TIME. If you had five days to live, would it be more important to have more money or more time?"

And if you really examine the concept as money being traded for time from your life, it makes it seem very foolish to want more and more money, and more and more material things, because they just aren't important. We all know this on some level, that material things aren't important, but what do material objects actually represent? Our time and energy. Our possessions tell the true story about what is important to us. Whether our house is immaculate all the time, or we spend time playing video games, or we go hiking, those all are reflections about what is truly important to us.

She then moved on to another student, and asked them what their dream was, and I was left there with my thoughts racing a million miles an hour. And really, WHY HAVEN'T I BEEN TO PARIS?

I promise this to myself - by my 32nd birthday, I will have been to Paris.

I believe that fate is a window that appears, something you notice as you are about to walk through the door - if you are paying attention. Opportunity presents itself, and its up to us as intelligent beings to make the correct choices when opportunities are presented to us. Thinking about the story of how she and her son came together, I don't believe that was coincidental. I guess it helps that I believe in reincarnation, and the ability for "old souls" to show up when people are still children, and I believe that some people, some souls, are together because they are supposed to be together.

My teacher and her son were supposed to be together, and supposed to be brought together in such a meaningful way, because later when it seemed like they lost everything they had that to hold onto. Something still made sense, in all that seemingly unfair pain and abandonment. They were not alone. They were still a family. And it probably saved them both.

And I began to think about my own love story. About how I had been emotionally creamed by an asshole, bounced right back into a pointless "fluff" relationship that crashed and burned in an alcohol and jealousy infused mess, and how I just very much wanted to be left alone, and truly meant that with every cell in my body. My heart just wanted to rest.

And then completely by accident I met David. David who hadn't even legally disentangled himself from his ex-wife, with two small children that had been abandoned by their mother, and was as emotionally creamed and guarded as myself. I think about how we became friends, denied to everyone that would listen that we WERE NOT DATING, and yet craved to talk to each other and be around each other every day. How we had a bizarre courtship, from deciding we were a couple before we had barely even had the courage to touch each other, from barfing from nerves before our first "real" date, from completely finding all the answers in each other when we just decided to chill out, breathe, and just let things be.

We are both 180 degrees different before we got involved. I bonded with and fell in love with his children, who desperately need a mother figure in their life. Within a year, I'm brave enough to accept David's proposal. I think about how things go from calm and mellow to complete and total chaos, how sometimes loving this family is the hardest thing I've ever had to do because I love them 100% - completely, the ugly, broken, wounded parts of them that I want to protect while they heal. When they hurt I hurt. We are all wounded inside, it just takes the right people to be able to reach it when you trust them and let them in completely.

This year I realized that I wanted to become a mother, and then the doctor explains to me that it will be very difficult to make happen. So in a sense, this is my own infertility story, which could be seen as another woman's coincidence... or it could be something more. It could be that I'm just paying attention.

Another milestone.

2006-10-26T21:09:00.000-07:00

I - the woman who has been accused multiple times by multiple people of "driving like a grandma" - received my very first speeding ticket yesterday.

And it was for.... ready?

Driving 65 in a 60. HAHAHAHAHAH!!!! Thank you Clark County Copper for literally making me laugh out loud. I was in the SLOW LANE and people were PASSING ME. Apparently I should have been actually speeding to avoid being detected. Claims he clocked me the first time at 73 and was "giving me a break". I was accelerating up a HILL on I-5 to avoid being clobbered, what the HELL?

Milestone.

2006-10-18T21:08:00.000-07:00

Anyway, I have an important milestone in my life... For I have officially failed my first college test. That's right, friends - the test that was over the stuff I missed so much on when I was sick last week I got a 35% on.

Oops.

Kids rule.

2006-08-27T09:04:00.000-07:00

Last night, driving home from Chinese food, The Fam and I were rocking out in the grandmamobile.

Jori, age 7:
"Hey Sara. If you had horns in your tummy, you could THROW UP THE HOOOOORNS!"

Kids rule!

The Poop Talk.

2006-08-19T21:02:00.000-07:00

So tonight I call my dad and he's officially in a panic. Because he hasn't taken a crap in a week.
Now its typical for him, as well as the majority of old people that I know, to get obsessed with their bowels. And he's a complainer in general, so I have a hard time guaging the urgency of any of his complaints. He whines about everything, and its been a lot worse lately in general. I feel like I need a Kevlar suit when I go for my weekly visit.

He complains about being constipated all the time, he's on 3 different meds to get him to crap regularly, so this isn't anything new. A week without a crap is new.

So I call the glorious VA, whose call center is in Dayton Ohio after hours, and speak with a nurse, who in turn called him to get his symptoms directly, and then calls me back.

We discuss the fact that his body is probably used to the laxatives (constipation is another unfortunate side effect of the Parkinsons and the meds taken to regulate his tremors) and they need to be taken a little more aggressively when he's backed up. She says it probably isn't a blockage, but could be impacted blah blah enema blah blah (enough poop talk). If nothing by tomorrow take him to the ER so he can have an x-ray, blah blah... Dude, I am NOT giving my dad an enema... I will take him somewhere where he can get one, from a nurse. Bathing him when he was in the rehab center is where I draw the line... I never wanted to see my dad naked, and I certainly don't want to become intimately involved with his asshole...

So I call him back, and he fessed up that he has refused his liquid laxative (the powerful one) for two days - because the taste "makes him sick". Gee Dad, I wonder why you are having a problem. I explain to him why this med is important, and he just says "Oh, I didn't know." &$^%(*#!!!

I ask him what he wants to do, if it is painful enough if he wants me to take him to the ER tonight (not my first choice) or if he wants to try the liquid every 4 hours like the nurse suggests along with milk of magnesia. He tells me he "doesn't know, my head is all goofy and I don't know anything." Then I tell him that I will make the decision for him then, I didn't want him to feel like I was bossing him around, and that he still has a choice when it comes to his medical treatment. So I tell him I'm going to have the home dose him every 4 hours, as the nurse suggested, and call him in the morning - see if he's crapped, if he hasn't then I will take him to the ER.

Next step is to call the assisted living place - to discover why a) I wasn't informed that he was refusing his meds (legally, he CAN refuse them - they just need to document it) and b) tell them to dose him every 4 hours.

I try for 15 solid minutes before I can get anyone on the phone. I get the med aid (nurse is at home, of course), explain it to her and she advises that they "aren't supposed to do anything without doctor's orders, but she can probably make an exception given the situation." She, as well as my father, were instructed to contact me at all hours of the night should his condition worsen - the VA nurse said if the cramps get horrible or he vomits that he needs to be seen immediately at the ER.