When it pours, you need a cup

There are days when I feel so worn out and mentally drained but I shake it off and keep pushing. Yet, sometimes the flesh becomes weaken with so much stress and not enough time to heal from it. I feel like that sometimes.

There’s a lot going on in my life.

Scene1: I am considering a career change while at the same time wondering if I should take a year off from work to rejuvenate. Although, I will have to discuss this with hubby. I mean the taking off from work for a year.

Scene 2: Dad is improving and I enjoy our dates out and we spend at least two days a week together or more. He’s funny and by the way, the medicine he uses stopped the little people from visiting him. At least that is what he tells my family and his doctor. Honestly dad has seriously improved. He makes me laugh all the time. Nothing heals or soothe a worn down person like a big ole’ deep down laugh. Last week at the doctor office, the doctor asked my dad, “How are you doing?” Dad responded, “I don’t have Dementia anymore.” The doctor and I couldn’t stop laughing. You had to be there to understand.

Scene 3: My youngest brother who turned 39 this year had a big lump on his back and never said a word. Finally it started hurting him so he went to the doctor because he could not lie down without a lot of pain. The doctor removed the lump. But he was told yesterday that it was cancerous. Tomorrow or Christmas Eve, he is having more testing to see it this has spread and if so, he is scheduled for surgery on Monday to have everything removed if possible. My family is praying that everything was removed with the initial lump.

We are praying that God intervene and declare him healthy. That’s our prayer…..we are not claiming anything. We have this amazing faith that I am holding too. With that said, I am praying for people everywhere that we are all able to overcome any burdens, problems, or pain in our lives.

Curveballs

Life can throw so many curve balls at you, that if you are not careful you can get knocked out. But every since my dad became ill I have decided to do more things to celebrate my life. I plan to take care of my health, travel more, do more and just enjoy God’s green earth.

I feel great about life. Since I started Zumba dancing and exercising on Jan. 1, 2010, I have lost 22 pounds. I plan to lose more and to do it sensibly. I also visited dad regularly and take him out to drive his car on Saturdays. Dad misses driving and still is very good at it. He seems better with medication.

My family as a whole is spending every single Saturday with him and some weekdays. We even take him out to dinner every week. Before dad became ill, he never went to restaurants because he just didn’t like others cooking. Now we go and have a good time talking and enjoying each other. Sometimes it takes someone you love to get ill to see how bless you are. As a family we are a strong unit…I’m glad to know that I can depend on others to help dad at this critical time in his life.

Last public entry about this:


“Mom, Dad is sick. He is seeing things for real.”

“I was hoping this was not true. Stop crying. We’ll work this out. You know his dad had Alzheimer. I think it is hereditary.”

“I remember Granddaddy having it. Did he see things?”

“Yes, he did. Don’t you remember him seeing King Tut on the wall? He used to have some wild hallucinations. He saw Bible characters and dead people.“

“I remember dad having to go search for him because he kept sneaking out of the house. Oh my God, who is going to help me with Dad? I can’t do this by myself; you know I can’t depend on my siblings. It is their Dad, but they’ll leave all this on me.”

“We need to make an appointment for the doctor to get a proper diagnosis. Have you done that?”

“No, I will after I talk to you. I have the number because I took him to the doctor a couple of months ago.”

“Where are you headed now?”

“Back home.”

“Well call me and let me know what happens.”

“I will.”

As I hung up the phone I found myself becoming angry. Why does Dad have to have this? “Lord, I whispered. Please don’t let him have this, please.”

After I called the doctor and made an appointment I called dad and told him that I would pick him up in two days. Next, I called my husband to inform him about what was happening. He basically told me to wait until the doctor diagnosed him. He went on to tell me to stop panicking and to get my ass off the phone while driving. As I ended the call, I said to myself, what an insensitive man. Even though, I knew this was not true about my husband but when you are in distress, you need the person you share your information to be a lot more sensitive at that time.


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Note: This has been a life changing experience for my family. But I have to admit that it is bringing an already close family even closer. My nephew and neice are really helping me and dad. So far, he is able to stay at home. Keep us in your prayers, especially my dad.

I will resume regular blogging......thanks for reading....

On the Brink of Madness
cond't (ch. 2)

I stayed there with dad at the house and tried to comfort him in a way. I talked to him about the past and what I did when I was younger. I wanted to see if his memory was intact, and it was. We laughed about a lot of things. I reminded him of when we used to view television with each other when I was a pre-teen. Our favorite time together was watching and rooting for the Cardinals Baseball Team. We spent many hours watching and talking about the plays. I could tell you all about the players, who they were, and what positions they played. My all time favorites, as was Dad’s were Ozzie Smith and Willie McGee. Whenever they came to bat and had a good hit or even a good run we would jump up yelling and screaming. Out of all of the kids, and there were eight of us, you could always find me there with him. So, I wanted to see if he remembered our time together.

“Dad, do you remember us watching the Cardinals play?”

“Yeah. We always did that. You loved that team as much as I did.”

“So you remember us watching all those games?”

“Why would I forget?”

“Well, what else did we watch?”

“Gunsmoke and Bonanza.”

“I did not think you would remember that.”

“Those were my favorite shows.”

“Well, when you were working on the cars, who helped you the most.”

“First it was you, then your brother, Chad then Earl.”

“I told Mom that. But she kept saying it was Melvin. I told her that I was the one who held the light for you and pumped the brakes.”

“You helped the most, but your brother Chad and your nephew Earl were next. Melvin, being the oldest, was playing basketball and chasing girls.”

We both laughed. I was so happy he remembered. I couldn’t wait to tell Mother, since she was so sure everybody was out in that garage helping him. She claimed that I was rarely out there. I know how long I stayed in that garage pumping the breaks. It used to piss me off because I could have been in the house on the phone talking to my friends, or a boy, or something. But I was out in the cold garage being a mechanic’s daughter. I am so glad that I did because I really got to know my dad. Not only that, but I knew how to detect if something was wrong with my car. So if I had a problem, I could normally tell either it was the transmission slipping, the alternator going out, or if a belt had broken. I also knew how to use the dipstick to check my oil, and so much more. Mom was jealous and I knew it. She always wanted all the attention. So she would always try to minimize my relationship with Dad or what we did together. I am sure that deep down inside she was happy that he had accepted me with open arms, but still she was jealous. Her actions always showed that to be true.

I told Dad that I would be back in a couple of days. I told him that I was going to make an appointment for the doctor and would come to take him.

“What is the doctor going to do?”

“Hopefully he can find out how to get rid of these people.” I said as I stood up to leave.

We walked to the door and he asked if I could make it to the car alone. I told him yes. As I walked out the door and he closed it behind me, I knew that something was indeed wrong. Dad had always walked me to my car. But now he shut that door so fast and left me to my own devices to get to the car. For some reason, that hurt my heart. In a way, it solidified that something was indeed wrong. My soul ached. As I backed out of the driveway, almost running over the neighbors’ grass, I heard his voice in my head. You can back straight out if you use your left side rearview mirror. Just look into the mirror and slowly back out.

I suddenly straighten up the wheels and did a perfect exit. I was thinking, what in the world are we gonna do without Dad?

Suddenly I was driving and crying so hard that I had to pull over to the side of the road. In my anguish I grabbed my cell and called mother. When she picked up the phone I cried harder.

On the Brink of Madness (Chapter 2)

I’ve changed. Life can do that to you. Sometimes when you experience fear or pain you go inside of yourself and cover your feelings like a turtle hiding under his shell. With suffering and regret you hurt with tremendous agony, but you won’t express it openly. If you do, people will think you are weak.

In the past I always felt strong, like I could conquer anything. However, having a parent feeling pain or weakness, and finding that you can’t do much to help alleviate their suffering, changes you. You become the parent. You worry about them. Where are they? What are they doing? Do they have food? Have they eaten? You raise your children like your parents raised you; now the cycle has circled back. Now you must take care of your parent.

It’s hard. As a child you are accustomed to your parents protecting you and now you must reciprocate. But you do it out of love, because you want to, not because you have to. You don’t want your parents to hurt. How could they, when they healed your scars, cooed your fears, loved you until you felt confident? Now this? You don’t want this to happen to someone you love. Not my parents. They are healthy. They are good people. But illnesses have no preferences. It doesn’t matter if you are rich or poor, good or bad. When it happens, it just does. No choice.

So you have to be gentle. Not cause them anymore harm than they are already experiencing, so you taper your emotions. You hold them in, because you have to help them. That day was hard. If your dad is seeing something that you can’t see, you know something is wrong. But because you never thought about this scenario you don’t know what it is, or what to do about it.

That day I had to keep talking to Dad. I needed to know what was happening so that I could find him the help he needed. I remember that conversation like I do my name.

“Dad, are you afraid of them?”

“No, I just want them out of my house.”

“How many are here?”

“It is three men. They are this tall.” He bends down and hold his hand flat to show me their height. They are about two feet high.

“How long have they been here?”

“About two months but I didn’t want to tell you all because I knew you would think I am crazy.”

“We know you are not crazy.”

“Can you see them?”

“No, Dad I can’t. But I believe you see them.”

“Can you help me get rid of them?”

“I can’t, but I know the doctors might be able to help.”

“What can they do?”

“They can see why they are here and where they are coming from?”

“Look at him over there by the book shelf. He’s just staring at me with them beady eyes.”

He is pointing to the shelf. I turned to look and I slowly walk to where he is pointing.

“Don’t go over there. They might hurt you.” He whispers.

“I’m not afraid of them. Get out of my Dad’s house!” I scream.

“Be quiet. Don’t say anything. They can hear you.”

This is killing me inside. I cannot stand to see my dad so vulnerable. I don’t know what to do.

On the Brink of Madness (cond't) chapter 1


“Yes I am. I know him.”

“I do too, and I don’t feel like anything is wrong.”

“Well, that is a good thing.”

“Are you on your way now?”

“I am pulling up into his driveway. I’ll call you once I find out what is wrong.”

“If he was talking, and that’s the only symptom he has to support your theory that something is wrong, then I know he is fine. The tone of his voice won’t kill him.”

“Okay Mom, I’ll call you back.”

I hung up the phone and jumped out of the car so fast I left the key in the ignition and the car running. Quickly turning back towards the car, I snatch the door open, lean in and turn the car off and grab my keys. I run to the back of his house, because the door we all use is located there. I knocked on his sliding glass door and see him walking towards me. He opens the door and his face looks worried.

“What’s wrong Dad?”

“I want them people out of here.”

“What people?” I asked.

Raising his hand up in the air he points to the corner in his den. “Right there!”

“Where?!” I ask again getting scared because I don’t know what these people will do to the both of us.

“They are in the book shelves. It’s three of them. I didn’t ask them to be here and I want them out now, before I blow their asses out of this house.”

I look again. “I don’t see anyone. There is no one there.”

“They are smart enough to hide from you. They are about this big.”

I turn to look at him to see how big the people are and he holds up both hands about the length of a football apart to show me how tall they measure. I look at him again. I place my hand across my chest and sit down. I am weak. Sitting down will help me to think.

“I am not crazy I didn’t want to tell you.”

“How long have they been here?” I ask.

“About two months. They sit there on the bookshelf and stare at me. I want them gone. I can barely pay my bills and I didn’t invite anybody here.”

Closing my eyes, I silently asked God to help me not to say the wrong thing. I don’t want to upset him anymore than he already is. Looking at Dad, I see so much worry in his face. He wants me to help, but I don’t know what to do. I can’t see what he sees but I know I have to be careful with what I say.

“Dad, are you afraid of these little people?”

I am a little crazy here today. Dad’s common law wife called to say that he is not sleeping well. Mostly, he sits in bed and wakes her through the night saying he is seeing things in the corner and stuff like that. It just started last Tuesday. He has been extremely healthy. But I am worried because his dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer in his seventies and now his oldest sister is in a nursing home suffering from the same thing. Dad turned 75 on January 31st. I talked to him for 35 minutes yesterday and there were no indications that something was wrong. But Kat said that it happens at night. I pray that his seeing things have to do with him being sleep deprived. I am not ready for this. I know he’s not.

I was in high school when my grand dad was diagnosed. But I remember how hard it was on my dad. Prior to putting his dad into a nursing home, dad had to get up in the middle of the night searching for his father because he formed a bad habit of walking away and getting lost and not remembering. Darn, Darn, Darn, I am not ready for this. I know Dad’s not either. Pray for him.