Any distraction is welcome..

Fluid Effect - stolen from ...art waif...

She says:

"Awesome. With one click you can see wrinkles, moles, sagging butt cheeks,
discolored flesh...ahhhh...the Magic of Photoshop.

Ever check out old magazines? Before Photoshop? Or old movies, for that
matter? Notice the "excessive wrinkling"? Well, it wasn't excessive, darlings,
it was normal. Now we have photoshop and Botox (ugh) to "erase" life's
little...erm, mistakes.

I feel so enlightened. I wish I had seen that website at the tender age of
14, when I started reading "Vogue" magazine (I found my FIRST, original copy of
"Vogue" at my mother's house when I went home this past weekend--Linda
Evangelista in a pink Chanel suit..aah, the memories...)."

Dad's dog.

Keep driving.

Then, the sun comes up again.

Then you thank god for the weekend.

Sometimes you get to go to the lake with neat people.

One time, I made fajitas for dinner.

In the summer, in the city.

The mornings are quiet here in the summer. With the kids out of school the streets are pretty empty. During the school-year there's a steady stream in the morning and afternoon. They make me smile when they're wearing headphones and singing on dark mornings.

I'm going to start staying at my dad's. I'll miss my husband. Most things seem quite trivial in comparison to say..his life. He's unable to eat at the moment..for the past three days. If I tell someone close they sort of raise their eyebrows like.. "OOoohhhh.." There's nothing I need/want anyone to do or say. I do want people to stop apologizing for not knowing what to do. Thanks, though. And, maybe if you could hold off on the "this is the time for you to really increase your faith in God" or the "is your dad saved?" questions. I'm not what may be the typical "Angry at God" but to be honest the whole topic is pretty far from my mind.

It's 7:14. Maybe I should get going to school. There's no time. When it finally happens..how will I react? How will I grieve? There's no time to grieve. People die all the time. People deal all the time. The world spins madly on. My right eye is bloodshot and I didn't comb my hair.

Pathophys test at 4, Religion test Wed., Micro test Thurs. Nine essays to write by Thursday. Yes, I do want you to grieve for me over school. It's kicking my ass, I'm overwhelmed and yes, I'm complaining about it. No, I don't know how to stay on top of it. No, I can't focus very well.
"But having all this to do is a blessing! It'll take your mind off things with your dad and give you something to focus on!" *stare*

quick:

(kwk)adj. quick·er, quick·est

Moving or functioning rapidly and energetically; speedy.

Done or occurring immediately: a quick inspection. See Synonyms at fast1.
Tending to react hastily: quick to find fault.

Ok, got it. I was just wondering 'cause it seems that everyone's definition of "quick" is different and I need to know.

"The yellowing of the skin and fluid build-up around the organs could indicate that he will go very quickly."

Or, it may indicate that things will drag on and on while he slowly suffers. Excessive fluid build-up may start breaking his ribs. Comfort Pak perched in the refrigerator. Give it to me straight, no ice. Don't want it diluted. Can I please be intoxicated on anything but life for the duration of the weekend?

soaking.

Soaking up new people around me, old ones that are good. I love my husband. Getting softer towards my dad and at the advice of others realizing this isn't about me and releasing some of the shit I've been white-knuckle clutching since before his diagnosis in September.

I worked so hard at school today and felt proud of myself. Triple shot mid-afternoon and a viral discussion to rival all viral discussional processional professional malaise.

I'm seriously worn out. Getting into bed for solid sleep and then waking up early to study some more before my big micro exam at 8. Send me fantastic vibes.

Gosh. How are you?

Thank you.

I have some awesome friends. They've listened to my endless rants about the woman married to my dad, jumped enthusiastically on the bandwagon rallied against her, listened to me weeping over my dad and then done it all over again. I am so lucky.

Today when I got home (and saw our great bush out front had been completely destroyed - more on that later) my husband had brought in a package for me. It was round, kinda big and wrapped in (my favorite) brown paper. I tore into it and found a perfect round box lovingly covered in pictures of all sorts of flowers. Inside it was packed with nice things including a whole big bunch of different teas, patchouli and sweet orange spray, bath stuff and more. Thank you, gorgeous. I was so surprised.

Last night I was accompanied to Lenny's where we slathered the inside of our bodies with all sorts of partially hydrogenated goodness. It kinda made me wanna puke/have diarrhea but the company was splendid. She sent me home with a CD she made for me. I saved it as a treat for my drive to/from school today and what a treat it was. Thanks so much, Staci. You're so thoughtful and you take such good care of me. You guys help keep me afloat and I am so grateful.

Last week Staci's sister, S., dropped off a card at my house and then brought homemade brownies another day. The brownies were covered in amazing amaretto frosting and accompanied by a gift card for my favorite study place. Coffee on S. now! It's not the "stuff," ya'know? They were all just so (truly) thoughtful and it all lifted me up so much. Thank you..

Father's Day was really great. The stars were aligned just right. It was slow and easy. My dad sat at the table with us! He looked great. (What to make of that? Managed pain? Improvement?)

Today I finished a presentation, took a test (and passed!). Wednesday another test. Summer fun. I feel grateful and tired. It's time for a shower and sleep in the bed I share with my roommate. World keeps on spinnin'.

Can't hold this one in..

Only one example of many.

Tonight I call my dad to see if I can come by. I had called earlier and he was in a lot of pain, in a hurry to get off the phone and asked that I just call later. So, I did. He was very task-oriented on the phone asking when I was available because his wife wanted to get someone over there because she is not getting enough rest.. I could hear her in the background telling him when I should come over and finally she said to just forget it because the painters would be there (painting the inside of their house because apparently that's very pressing) and she wouldn't get any rest with them there. Dad suggested they cancel the painters but that was not an option! So, I'm heading over at noon so his wife can get some rest. Mind you, I like hangin' with my dad but with a husband dying, is painting the house (her prep for selling it) and sleep really that important? My dad naps so she could do the same. If I had a minor cold and wanted my mom to sit up with me for days she would gladly do so without ever making me feel like a burden. While my dad's been in bed for weeks she and her daughter have been out looking at new houses to buy. Wish I could ease up my feelings of dislike but goddamn they just give me so many reasons.

P.S. How does one celebrate her last Father's Day with her dad? golf clubs? a nice tie?

(Disregard my unfunny morbid humor. I don't know what else to do.)

blargh

I sit. Motionless. Emotionless. Consumed, overflowing, and empty. Every day there is a new emotion. Today's seemed to be anger, impatience.. I've been sitting here trying to start working on my pathophysiology for awhile now. I'm unproductive, unkempt.

Tonight I'm babysitting baby Z and I'm so excited. She giggles and toddles around and I can't wait to focus on her and nothing related to school or Dad. At 10 months she walks around like it's nothing. It's fascinating for me to see her walking alone across a room. She's a little baby but so mobile. In November she'll be a big sister.

The thing is, when you're dealing with a Thing, there's really no down-time. I'm always thinking about Dad, visiting him, spending more more more time with him or the homework I should (always, ALWAYS) be doing. Dad says, "Finish all your homework before you come over." Well, I've yet to reach that point and of course, I understand he doesn't MEAN that, duh..but I wish it were like, "Cool. I'll study my spelling words, write them five times each and be over!!" Oh, do I have anything but complaints to offer? Shit. This sucks, folks.

I'm going a little crazy.

These days are so fucking weird. I do my best to remain somewhat focused but it's a constant battle. Cliche cliche, one day at a time.

My dad's home with hospice. The good thing about the hospital was its neutrality. I developed an off-schedule that allowed me lots of alone time with my dad. The house is her turf. She also feels my dad is her turf. Her daughter feels the same. I'm the outsider, the enemy, the only thing that might possibly be standing between them and my dad's money. I'd rather it go anywhere but to her. (Trust that I'm not lacking in ugly things to say right now) There's no shortage of nasty looks or snappy cold comments in my direction. I feel so alone there and I hate it.

Sunday we're going to her house for Father's Day. I haven't wanted to go there since he went home.

My head hurts.

In other news. School is literally kicking my ass. Under better circumstances, I highly recommend summer classes but I just can't keep up right now.

I wanted to write more but I can't focus anymore.

What day is it?

Everything's becoming a blur. When my dad's looking the best he has in perhaps months it's hard to swallow the doc's prognosis. Tired of thinking about it, tired of talking about it, tired of the hospital, tired of family that is not mine. They are not, will not ever be, my family.

I have four classes right now. One of them I've not even started as it's an online class. I'm a zombie. Confused, walking in circles, accomplishing little. Sorry this blog has lost any semblance of fun it might have held at some time.

I've little of worth to say.

Hi.

I just wanted to say hello. My brain's about to explode. Cannot process it all. In the end things progress fairly rapidly and "the patient may begin to withdraw from people, a way of beginning to withdraw from this world." Confusion abounds. Not sure I can continue with school. Morphine flows like milk and honey though not sure I am fond of the promises that land holds. Main goal = comfort. Sending him home with hospice in a day or two or three. Attempt to study for pathophysiology test that is tomorrow. A large portion of the material is over cancer. Perhaps my field studies will come in handy. Life events that turn rain on a windshield into a spiritual experience.

Oh yeah. Earlier, my roommate halfway squashed a fly and it came out of the ordeal with a broken cockeyed wing and Roommate looked at me and said, "Oh, I guess it's a Walk now." I'm a lucky girl.

Watch out here I come..

You spin me right 'round, baby right 'round.

So, how 'bout an update? "So soon?" you say.. Yes.

Rundown of the day. (go with it..it helps me)
Crashed about 2 am last night and got up at roughly 6:30. Went to school, had microbiology until 12:30. I drove home, was here about an hour before Aunt called me to say she was driving behind the ambulance as they were driving my dad to the hospital. Dad taken to ER, much ensued that served merely to break my heart. I was informed as soon as I got there that my dad had informed everyone not to call me. His wife jerked her head around to look at me and said, "Who called YOU?" Sweet.

ER, admitted, transferred to a room. Me gone to class for 4 hours. Return home around 10 pm and head back to the hospital where I learn Dad has pneumonia in both lungs and the enzymes in his liver are out of control. He's jaundiced. His skin and eyes are yellow. What will help is improperly functioning liver? Perhaps chemo, radiation. He'll have none of either. Nurse said he'll get more jaundiced and the toxin build-up in his liver will perhaps cause confusion as they get into his brain. Why can't I google the End Checklist? I don't know what's happening.

Now it's midnight and I have a microbiology paper to write that's due at 8:00 am. Sweet again.

At this time it is important to remember.. "A 2003 study indicated that regular ejaculations may help prevent prostate cancer."

Broke my pencil.

Summer classes are nuts! The speed at which we're flying through material is killing me but also somewhat staving off the temptation to be a total slacker. I've not done as much homework as I should've in the past two days but I'm amazed at the quantity of homework that needs to be done. Seriously. Nuts! I have no idea how people with kids/full-time jobs do this. That makes me feel like a pud for complaining..

Starting the day with microorganisms makes me feel like I'm rockin' out with my cock out. (I couldn't think of anything that rhymed with "geekin' out?")

I still have high hopes for an informative/cleansing post about my dad but I don't have the energy for it. Feels like he's slip slidin' away.. I'm taking my mom there to see him on Friday. That should prove to be an all-around good time for everyone, don'tcha think?

She hasn't seen him for a few months and he was much different then. I've been trying to prepare her to see him. Even after seeing him this way for weeks now it still takes me back a little each time I walk in to see him. He lays on his belly with his face propped sideways on a pillow about 99% of the time. I left 1% for the times he's making his way to the bathroom. He says he's making himself continue to walk to the bathroom to stay moving. The pain is.. I can't even tell you. It's all-consuming. He has nothing BUT pain. It takes him awhile to shuffle and muster up the pain-tolerance to lift his head up on his elbows. The cancer that has metastasized in his bones is all throughout his body. Dr. Duck says the pain is due to "all the cancer comin' out!" Indicative of the healing of course.. He went to a urologist last week and reported back surprised that the doctor (foolishly, right?) thinks he still has cancer. Dr. Duck said he needs to go see an orthopedic guy about his back but dad doesn't really want to as he says the doc will try and treat him as though he has cancer. Sigh. I didn't intend to write all that out.

When I got there last night I just sat on his bed and rubbed his back for a long time. Ya hafta handle him gently because of the pain and because his bones are weak. They could break really easy. The cancer just eats away holes in them from the outside. Cancer is truly like something out of a sci fi movie. I am baffled by it. It feels untouchable to me.

I do feel a little weird sometimes writing about it here. It's a bit unethical and one could very easily "decipher" who I am if you know me. My name is one of the few things left unknown. I also know that reading about my dad and cancer isn't .. I don't know..uplifting? entertaining? It's real though and I guess that's all I've got.

I won't claim that it's all worth it if one person is touched or relates. I hope that happens maybe but I mainly write this stuff here for selfish reasons, to dump some of it out of my head. It's a balm sometimes. Nearly every night I've been having bad dreams that leave me a bit disheveled by morning. You see..a couple days ago on the phone my dad ended with, "I love you, [my name]." Say it outloud with your own name. It bears more weight than a regular "love ya" or "I love you." It broke me. And now, I'm doing this thing, ya'know? Each evening I don't have class I'm trying to go to his house. I've gotta quit getting myself snagged on the "I needs" and just give him all I've got. This is necessary for two main reasons. One of those is that I want my dad to know without a doubt he is loved and be assured of how much I care for him before he dies and two is selfish. Two is so that when he does die I don't go crazy with the guilt that could plague me if I know that I didn't do all I could. It feels like there's no amount that is enough but I'm working on at least Something. I start feeling sad that he never calls me and then I'm with him and see the massive amount of effort it takes to reach out far enough to pick up the phone and then answer it.

Cancer is no way to die. It's fucking hell. It's been almost 8 months since he was diagnosed. Like Sheri said, it feels longer. What he has is not life. He's only 50 years old. He turned 50 a couple of weeks after his diagnosis. It's strange to look back at pictures from five or six years ago and realize that he had cancer then. If we'd only known. What if what if what if, right? Maybe it would've been caught early and taken care of. Maybe my parents would've stayed together? Maybe he'd be with my amazing mom instead of gold-digging bitchwhorecunt? My mom would've helped him live and love. His new wife wants to hurry and buy a new house soon. I bet the paperwork's easier while he's still alive. What if's are bad, right? I should stop, right? This is ugly, right? cancer cancer cancer!

I bought two Father's Day cards this year. Was I hoping that doubling up would mean more? Neither of them are from Hallmark.

Back in session..

If you're looking for me, starting tomorrow, this is where I'll be! My pencils are sharpened, binder is organized and filled with gorgeous, crisp white paper. It all beckons and demands I take advantage this semester, this hot summer semester of insanity. So much in so little time. Big, fat microbiology for 4 1/2 hrs./day for the next month and then, BAM it's over. (Micro, I mean)

I have a yellow backpack so if we time it just right you might catch a glimpse of me here..

Post related to the current state of my dad delayed due to my inability to compose it. Also starting tomorrow, I plan to spend most evenings "with" my dad. It's weird to pick out a Father's Day card that will probably be the last. I'm hoping my ink on the stiff cardstock will seal the deal, making them the Right Ones.

mish mash

A bunch of random shit..

I get annoyed when I post a comment on livejournal users' journals and it is #1) ignored completely or #2) not approved to be posted. As a non-livejournal user am I therefore not cool enough to post on their journal? Whatev.

Much love on the sidebar. I've been fluttering through a bunch of blogs I read on a very regular basis (even if not daily) but have never linked. I don't expect the obligatory reciprocal link I just like these blogs and want you to have the opportunity to enjoy them as well. Scan through and explore. I also deleted some that no longer exist or I think suck.

I like to read books about Mt. Everest and gardening. I suppose they both allow me to live vicariously. "I like songs about drifters books about the same. They both seem to make me feel a little less insane." - modest mouse

I'm soo going to the Panic! at the Disco/Dresden Dolls show on July 21st

School begins Monday.

Do you put a lot of milk in your cereal so it's swimming or just enough to have a little splash on each bite 'cause the latter is how I like mine.

When you were a kid did your family put the sauce on the spaghetti before it was served or did everyone put on their own at the table?

All this levity is a preface to the post about my dad I'm composing in my head. If teary syrup ain't your thing I hope you skipped it 'cause I guess it will actually be before this one unless you happen to catch me between posts. Whatev, right?

This show sucks. No wonder you liked it.

You should get new glasses, like these.

What, nerd glasses?

Yes!!

No! Then I'd look like one of those guys at Barnes & Noble.

(laughter)

Bloggin' it!

No you're not! I'll shut that blog down!

Bloggin' that too!

Front porch in the rain.

Do you like my spoons, knife and fork windchimes?

Me too.

Show me your face. What have you done?

Oh, glory be! I've just, JUST returned home from a fantastic trip with two pretty ladies. A location wherein we were forced (fabulously) to partake in boating and fishing and swimming, swimming, floating around like languid surface fish. It was so much fun and I feel refreshed and excited.

I returned home to a few real live emails, paperwork from school and voicemail messages regarding school. Things keep chug, chug, chuggin' along. Soon I'll be back in the swing of "griping about school" blogs. For today, for now, I'm excited about school. Each semester begins feeling like a clean slate. Ok, this is it, pom. Make good things happen. Sometimes I surprise myself and I've got to remember that.

How are you?