And so it goes.

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

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.

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!

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?

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.

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!

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.