I've been feeling rather unconnected with life for a while.
I've been sparking less, doing less and feeling tired and exhausted.
I have been doing things with the kids and being 'the Mom', but yet, when the kids are gone and my husband is at work. I'm here, yet I'm not motivated to do things. Like clean house, go for a walk, even doing the basics of dishes, sweeping, getting the mail.
I'm really good at putting on a show. Nobody knows that things are off with me. My husband is chalking it up with just being anaemic. You know. I AM tired and if I do have energy, it wanes fast.
So, I'm finally putting it on the table with you, my friends. My lovely, lovely friends.
My Dad is dying.
He has T-cell lymphoma. What the exact name of the cancer is, don't ask me. I don't know. It long. It doesn't matter. The only thing is, is there is no treatment.
He's been sick for about five years. Undiagnosed. Looking for answers. Nothing. Then one day just over a year ago, he went into emergency and the doctor that was on call said, "I could be wrong, but I think you have lymphoma."
Just like that.
After all the doctor visits, tests and looking for answers. It took that one trip to emergency and that one doctor nailed it. Huh.
Needless to say, surgery was done. They took out some intestine and sent biopsies out. The one place couldn't figure it out. The next place did. T-Cell Lymphoma.
My Mom took Dad to the cancer treatment place later on to find out what next.
Yep. You've got it. No treatment.
They have nothing. If they tried treatment, he would have been worse off right away. My Dad was reasonably healthy in every way. Why torture him with radiation that won't work anyways?
Mom and Dad went home and started to pick up the pieces of living again.
Dad was told that he probably wouldn't make it to Christmas. He did. He wasn't feeling 100%, yet he wasn't that bad off either.
He looked into what causes it. He looked into herbal remedies and such.
We did a family reunion on the August long weekend. He had a good time. People came that we haven't seen in a long time. Yet, there was disruption with his siblings, because of another issue. (My Grandma). So none of his siblings came. It didn't matter, who came was cousins, Aunts, Uncles, further reaches of relatives. It was great.
After that, my Dad started going down hill. He so tired, he's in pain, he's coughing blood.
My Grandma dies.
We go to her funeral and as I watch my Aunts and Uncles proceed up the aisle to sit down for the service. All sad and quiet. I can't help but notice that they have colour. They look healthy, yet older. Then there is my Dad. So white, so pale, so much smaller and he looks weak. My Mom walking beside him, so tiny and frail looking, yet strong. She had lost so much weight from doing so much and being so stressed.
It so morbid to say this, but during the cemetery proceedings, I looked around and thought, pretty soon, we'll be here again. For my Father.
That was at the end of August.
Now is November. My Dad is still here. He can't lift things. He has a hernia where he had his surgery was and there is no way they will put him on the table. He wouldn't make it. He finally saw his Doctor since diagnosis and they talked about things.
So, I had to go to Mom and Dad's with my family to help finish the capes that my Mom was making for my kids. As soon as I walked in the door, my Dad said. "My Doctor said 'this was it. There's nothing more.' I'm on my final stage."
I looked him straight in the eye and said, "The final countdown."
He looked back at me and said, "Yep. The final countdown."
He's so tired and in pain. His stomach cramps so bad. He tries to look better than he feels, yet he doesn't so much in front of me. Mom says it's because he knows he can't fool me into his act.
So, I helped Mom finish sewing. My girls stayed in the living room with us more than in the kitchen with Dad. We joked and giggled and sang little dittys. My husband and son were in the kitchen with Dad talking. Listening to the radio play which was The War Of The Worlds.
We left as soon as possible because Dad feels compelled in staying up and being around and we know he needs his rest.
Yet, I'm putting on a show too.
You see. I'm being upbeat with my family. I laugh, joke, play, sing, cook and just be the Mom and wife.
Yet, when they are at school and work. I'm here. Alone. Wondering when that phone of mine will ring with another request from my Mom to help with something. Or what's happening at school with my DD2 and DD3. One has a broken toe, the other her foot is bothering her from trick or treating last night. When is my sister going to call me and tell me about all her problems with Mom and Dad or work. Is that doorbell going to ring with Brother at the door to shoot the breeze while waiting for his girlfriend to finish at work and then they can do something for dinner. (He's a trucker so works odd hours).
For some reason, my Mom, brother, sister, cousins, Aunts and friends, rely on me.
They think me as a strong individual. Capable of much and sometimes annoying. If I get short with my sister, she calls me a brat (among other things) and says that I'm selfish. Except, I don't see or hear of her being at our parents and helping out. I don't hear from her unless she wants to complain or find out things. If she does ONE thing for any of us, 'we owe her so much'.
I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm the one people turn to when things get tough. I'm uncomfortable. I sleep and yet I'm tired. I don't sleep and I'm tired. I'm overwhelmed with grief, purpose, anxiety, hate and I love so much.
Anyway, this is where I am right now.
My thoughts are a jumble and to blog this was hard. If it makes sense. GREAT! If it doesn't I'm sorry. I'm posting it anyways.
I just thought you should know what has been going on for the past year on the 'back burner' as life carries on.
I'm still here for all of you.
Just not all the time.
Take care of yourselves and hug the ones you love really, really hard.