Wednesday, December 24, 2014

*spoiler alert* he didn't die

Bullet pointed because I. Just. Cant. Even.


  • Nurse misspoke and told Keith and mom that death was eminent
  • It wasn't
  • C Diff infection is gastro/intestinal thing.  No way to cure it for dad yet but one way has found success in some patients
  • Fecal transplant
  • yes I said fecal transplant
  • We though it was going to have to be Jeff who donated, DNA and all that.  
  • Turns out that much like a 'blood bank' there is a fecal bank
  • Yep
  • They did the transplant
  • Dad immediately starts hollerin' to go home.  They advise against, he insists, they have no power to keep him, he goes home
  • Dad back in hospital on the 20th
  • ha. ha. ha.
  • No clue if there will be another transfer *shudder*, I'm staying well clear of that hell
  • Jeff is going to their house for Christmas dinner.  I ordered ham dinner from grocery store, Keith will pick up.  
  • I am staying home in my PJs because NOPE.

Meanwhile, related news:
  • Jeff's sister Debbie ALSO decided NOPE.  no more.
  • She sent Keith and Jeff a text saying that she was going to give her husband power of attorney for her, because she wouldn't always be around to help make minute-by-minute decisions (works at a court house and no phones, whatnot)
  • I thought this was sorta brilliant, giving her an extra layer of protection against the madness
  • Keith and Dad think her husband is nefarious abuser who is angling for control of both sister and the house Dad owns
  • (yes, the house that has a reverse mortgage on it and now I have a headache)
  • Sister's son who is about 23 is arrested for burglary for the second time and is in jail
  • Jeff sends sister a text expressing concern/condolences at 3:00 PM on the 20th (magic date)
  • At 10:30 PM same day Jeff receives vitriolic texts back telling him to shove his concern up his ass, etc
  • I'm left wondering if that was sister texting or husband?  Now I need a foil hat because I'm suspicious of everything
  • 'have a nice life' was tossed by both parties

Meanwhile, same day, December 20th, family xmas party with Jeff's kids, my kid, extended family, all very fun happy people.  My kind of party!
  • Keith is there, which is good we haven't seen him in a long time
  • He has had a mild heart attack and his health is sorta failing, I clutch my pearls and he laughs because he is our only line of defense.  I say 'you cannot die' and he says 'oh believe me, I know' and we laugh again.  It's all good between us, every time, in person.  Hmmmm.
  • Keith and I have a sit down talk which is not necessarily a CTJ (come to jeebus) but IS more firm from me
  • I tell him Dad has NOTHING to apologize to me for, I have not CO (cut off) his parents because of the shitty things they said TO me, stop with arranging a deathbed reunion. 
  • It's about Jeff and his pain, I don't like when someone talks to my husband like that and makes him so upset he breaks out in acne on his face at 57 years old from stress
  • I also have been the scapegoat before, I recognize it, they are turning me into one again with the P/A comments behind my back (calling me a vulture, accusing me of trying to steal crystal and the mink coat incident, telling people I'm on her 'list' because I didn't go get Baby Keith from Baker on his ill-fated trip to Las Vegas, etc), and insert the NOPE FISH picture here again.
  • He tells me he thinks sister's husband is nefarious abuser who is angling for control of both sister and the house Dad owns (copied from above)
  • (they still think there is $500,000 in equity in that home magical thinking MORE POWER TO YA)
  • He repeats for the gabillionth time that when the parents die HE gets the money
  • I repeat for the gabillionth and one time that the fucking TRUST DOCUMENTS of which we have a copy specifically leave all property divided equally between the three kids
  • I encourage, nay, INSIST that he get someone out to that house to re-draw the trust docs while both parents are in their right minds (ha) to give it all to Keith (including the magical unicorn and leprechaun with his pot of gold that live under that house)
  • I also tell him to get a POA, even a limited one, naming HIM as having the POA for his parents
  • Jeff absolutely does not want any part of that house.  He thinks Keith has earned whatever there is in equity simply by wiping asses, driving to the VA 6 times a week, and just living in that madness.  I totally agree, but my opinion doesn't matter really because as I keep telling Keith, IT'S NONE OF MY BIDNESS
  • I DO NOT WANT ANY PART OF THIS SHIT STORM
  • ha ha that up there ^^ is funny because C Diff infection causes horrific STENCH FILLED diarrhea which from what keith said CANNOT BE CONTAINED IN ANY ADULT DIAPER KNOWN TO MAN


Aaaand I'll just re-add that NOPE FISH here because NOPE.

I have lots to catch up on here.  My trip to Florida and the side-trip to Daytona Beach.  Thoughts on what is 'normal'.  My glee that christmas is almost over again for another year.  Positive energy.  All that rigamarole.

Wishing all of you a very quiet, happy, and calm Christmas and New Year.  Comfortable stretchy warm PJs, mugs of soup or coffee or stew.  Cookies and great movies and naps and lapfuls of furry pets.  






Friday, December 5, 2014

Deathbed Apologies (do you smell that?)

**(update already and I haven't published this yet.  Jeff texted me that his dad is awake and looks better.  I responded with a succinct LOL.  Jeff replied 'same routine'.  Holding off on cute dress for funeral again)**

Jeff's dad is in the hospital (again, forever and ever, world without end, amen) and has been since just after Thanksgiving.

[they had tried to guilt us into coming for TD and I told Jeff sincerely to JUST GO but I wasn't going to put myself on a narc dinner platter in that house of disease.  He chose to spend it with me, natch.  His mom even called me (ME!) and used her airy-fairy voice on me 'if you guys aren't busy tomorrow...' uh, no thx see ya - we didn't go obv]

Anywhozle this hospital trip has revealed that nDad still has 'c difficile' which is an intestinal infection that is essentially non-curable.  He also still has MRSA along with the 3 types of cancer he's had for years.  But it's this infection that is, finally, killing him (praise jesus call the undertaker)

End of life specialist meeting called this morning at 9 - Jeff is there right now.  I am NOT there.  My dog has a bladder infection and I am taking her to the vet.  I haz priorities.  Besides, this is a meeting that wives and in-laws do not need to attend.

PUNCHLINE:

Jeff's brother told Jeff 'dad would like to clear things up with Casey before he dies' (paraphrase but you get the jist) which.  HELL-lo.

1.  Admission of guilt.  Old fucker knows he was a complete asshole MANY times over and that he is the reason I wont speak to them anymore

2.  The Narc Playbook!  Isn't one of the last rules in it telling the narc to have a Deathbed Confession?!  EXCEPT - it will just be shuck-&-jive, more jibber-jabber, more bullshit and finger pointing.  There is never an admission of guilt, and then an apology, and then a request for forgiveness.

This is playing out like a made for tv movie.

And the kicker is, really - he didn't do anything to ME.  He was a horrific raging asshole to my husband, and to the rest of his immediate family, to which I had a reaction and chose to sever contact. Ain't nobody treats my husband like that and get's no consequences.  But actually TO ME?  nah, the man never raged at me.  He was shitty, and all that, but never RAGED at me.

So why me?  I'll tell you why.  I'm the only one who SAW HIM.  I'm the one who called him AND his family on their bullshit.  I know he could hear me in the background when he was yelling and narc-raging at Jeff on the phone that one time - He could hear me saying !!!WHAT?!? and whatnot in the background.  He had a witness to his insanity from outside the narc-circle.  And now he wants to plug that hole.  Somebody HAD to be the scapegoat, and Keith, the brother (who went to Vegas but ended up in Baker, remember?) who has typically been the SG was now the caretaker and the sister who shared the SG role was DONE and was on very LC with them, and Jeff is the GC so...  oh hey!  it's ME!  lol.  Scapegoat again *shakes fist*  it's just, sad kinda - because he has no power.  And since I went NC with that entire family, I never heard any of the bad-mouthing that I'm sure I got.

I can hear it now "I meant well, I was a very sick man, I was upset, let's put this all behind us what does any of this matter?  let's pray" and that entire thing will be a non-admission, a non-apology, and a non-starter.

BUT - and here is the nut of the issue.  I don't give a fuck.  I don't want an apology, because he didn't do anything to me!  He hurt my husband badly - so apologize to him?  I don't care what he says, or how he says it.  Jeff want's me to go and let the old man do his thing and die in peace.  And for Jeff, I can do that.  I guess.  *shrug*

Sometimes, you do things simply so you do not look like an asshole to other people.  This is one of those times.  I'm going to see Jeff's family at bbqs and whatnot every once in a while for the next 20 years.  I'm vain and selfish enough to want to be known as 'the forgiver', lol.  I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON, I get this.  But I will go, and stand in that room, and let him talk.  And I might say something in reply like 'do you like these shoes?  I think mice are so cute!  woof woof!' and mess with his deathbed head.  And then when he tells people after I leave that I said things like that, they will shake their heads and think the morphine kicked in.  And I get to look like the good guy.

And after THAT I will go home and take 7 showers and then take clorox bleach wipes to my car and door handles and wash my clothes in hot water.

And hopefully NOW i can start shopping for a cute black dress.  Hopefully now there will be a funeral.

(OH and I checked the VA death benefits page and the VA pays $300 for funeral costs.  Looks like I need to start looking for a cardboard fridge box behind Sears because I AM NOT PAYING FOR A FUNERAL oh hell no)

For fun, I will provide links to the prior madness:
Watching a train wreck
The hits keep on coming
I'll burn it down first


Tuesday, December 2, 2014

oh, jeeze. ELL OH ELL

Yeah, second post today but GET THIS

My eldest sister just called to wish me a happy birthday.  She said 'I couldn't remember if you celebrate on the 1st or the 3rd so I'm calling today on the second!'

Let me explain this:

I think I've mentioned.  When my dad brought me to Calif he changed my birthday in order to get me into 1st grade before the cutoff - so that he could have control of me from my mother in Fla, so that I was in school and not needing daycare, so that HIS life worked for him.  HE CHANGED MY BIRTHDAY.  It was a big deal, they made it a big deal, and all these years later my eldest sister is still confused.  (They also didn't like calling me Casey, I had to go by Kathy for a while (I guess until they gave up since I probably told everyone my name was Casey when they asked, because I WAS FUCKING 5/6 YRS OLD)  I mean, it was only from the 3rd to the 1st - what's the problem, right?  confused the everloving crap out of me.

SO all these years later, I am now 54 (tomorrow) and my own sister cannot remember which day I celebrate.  But she knew what day I was actually BORN - I mean, do you get that?  (to be fair I cannot remember all of their birthdays either, I know the month but not the exact day.  But she remembers enough to be confused by it still).

It's just mind-blowing what they take away from you in order to make their lives easier.  My birthday, AND my name.  Not to mention my mother, my aunt, my home, my brother - *poof* all gone because it didn't fit the image.

And oddly enough, or maybe not odd because all the great things happening lately, this is just sort of a period at the end of a sentence about my childhood.  It really did happen.  People DO remember.  And it really doesn't matter anymore!  She called, and I love her for remembering my day and for making the effort.

And that is a good start to the last 3rd of my life!

I love my life. Who knew.

It's raining here in SD.  It's like a birthday gift a day early this rain.  WATER.

I was re-reading my recent blog posts, because so much has happened in such a short amount of time and I want to make sure I'm remembering it.

I found the one I did about animal totems.  And I'd like to re-post the three animals i looked up at the time:


There is a great transformation happening within you right now. Trust that your life history has prepared you for this momentous change.
-Crow
I have been talking about this momentous change for months.

What you see and judge as shortcomings in others is also reflected within you. Realize that true acceptance comes from the heart and that there is no need for judgement in any shape or form. Allow forgiveness to flow through you.
-Pelican

And this - forgiving ME is so hard, but forgiving others in my life for being human.

Consider the future you are weaving. Does it include your biggest dreams?
-Spider

I'm weaving a future...

*******************************

When I posted these originally, I was simply recognizing the animals that were trying so hard to get my attention.

Then I went on writing and listening and moving forward.  Now I look at these totem definitions and I AM BLOWN AWAY.

The post I did about old 'friends' contacting me, and forgiving them and ME for the past.  The doorways and threshholds and this last third of my life coming, coming and being important, and MOMENTOUS CHANGE - not necessarily physical change, like moving house, but now I see.  Emotional change.  HUGE.  And then getting creative, creating things yes but creating my future using ideas I had long abandoned as unsuitable.

Trust that your life history has prepared you for this momentous change.

hoo boy.

I love my life.  I LOVE MY LIFE.  wow - tears again.  So many truths coming at me so fast these days.

I'm going out to walk in this miracle of RAIN, and see what the universe has to say to me today.  And I am smiling so big.




Monday, December 1, 2014

Becalmed

  1. <becalmed at last, she slept soundly for the first time in weeks> (years) (decades?)

Not only am I not scared anymore - I'm not angry anymore.

huh.

I've been both of those things - Very Scared, and Completely Pissed The Fuck Off, for about 54 years now.  I't different, this new 'not' feeling.  I just got the chills, ack shoo lee.

I'm not angry about the abuse anymore.  Which is NOT to say anything stupid like 'I forgive my abusers' or any bullshit like that.  I most assuredly do NOT forgive.  The abuse has not been acknowledged by the perpetrators, and forgiveness has not been requested.  In my world, both of those things have to happen before I would ever consider 'forgiveness'.

[And, sorry all you ACoNs just starting out, but that shit ain't EVER going to happen.  Let me just get you to the end of the story real quick - stop writing letters.  Stop explaining.  Stop making grand gestures.  Stop crying and explaining boundaries - stop wasting time, and over-extending your hope-bone.  And for the love of christ, please stop feeding your children to 'The Grandparents' - your children ARE being abused, right in front of your eyes.  They see your stress/fear/anger and assume that is a normal response to them.  The narcs will not become anything else than what they are.  That leaves YOU to become something other than what you are.  It's YOUR responsibility, and your only hope.  The End.]

But angry?  meh.  See, I used to swim with sharks.  They ate me.  A LOT.  it hurt, a lot.  I kept asking them not to do it.  But I kept swimming around in that pool.  And every time I did, I would get a stomach ache and a headache and drink too much to compensate for the stress of being around sharks.  They did not understand what I was saying because I do not speak shark.  Now I do not go in that pool.  The sharks are still in there, swimming around.  Eating others, I suppose.  But it's not ME anymore.  And it isn't any of my business what they are doing.

Do you get that?  Once you go NO CONTACT it isn't any of your business if the narcs are still being narcs.  I don't go to the edge of the shark pool and look to see what is happening.  I don't ask my sisters if my mother (shark) is eating someone else.  I don't want to know, and it is none of my business anyhow.  I am free.

I will no longer waste my time being angry at a bunch of sharks in a shark tank.  *shrug* they just are who they are.  I can shake my fist at the fates who allowed me to be born into that mess.  Sounds futile but I did it for years.  I can HATE the sharks for being sharks and for feeding on me all the time.  For not seeing that I was not born to be food, that I was just a baby/kid - well, sounds just as useless and I did that for years too.  I would yell and cry and all, and they would just look at me with shark eyes and think 'food'.  They didn't ever once say 'hmmmn, why is this food making so much noise?' it never occurred to them.  And in all those years of fear and anger and hate, I never once just got myself out of the fucking pool.  It never occurs to US that there is a ladder and a towel waiting outside.  Probably an iced tea too.

I'm out now.  It's silly, all that angst and energy I wasted being so angry and scared when all I had to do was get out, dry off, and walk away.