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Jun. 19th, 2004 08:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciroccojI haven't posted publicly for the last few days, and I don't have the heart to re-type my friends-only post from Thursday, so I'm just going to cut and paste it here. I would just keep all of what's happening friends-only, except that a few of my dearest friends aren't on lj.
Thursday June 17
We went to my mom's place for dinner last night and found out why she had wanted us to bring along a notebook to write things in. She's been told that her cancer is basically incurable; she's terminal. We don't know how long she has, but I got the impression that it would be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. She is no longer going to get radiotherapy designed to get rid of the lymphoma, because there's too much there to get rid of. She will be getting treatment for the pain and other discomfort.
I've been on the phone to various friends and family, letting them know. I also spent a lot of today at her house, keeping her company. She doesn't have much energy, but I'm hoping that if I go frequently and keep the visits short, that won't tax her too much. My aunt Gilda is hoping to come from Chile, and my cousin Ingrid from Germany. Hopefully that'll be a positive thing for her.
I haven't told the kids yet. No idea what to say. I've been alternating between wanting to cry and feeling very distant from everything. One thing I've really noticed, though, is an almost complete inability to stay mentally organized; I'm having to make lists to keep myself from just dithering instead of getting anything done, and I keep losing things - including my lists.
Don't really have much more to say about this.
Friday June 18
I called my aunt Marjorie in Chile, to let her know about my mom. And I don't know why but it just hit me really hard. First thing, she said, "Oh, Jimena! Oh, how are you doing, dear? And how are the boys?"
"We're fine, thanks-"
"And your mother?"
"Well... that's why I'm calling-"
And she sort of gasped, and said, "Oh - oh no! No, no, no..." like she really wanted me to not have to say what she knew I was going to say, like by saying No, she could make it not be true. And I've been mostly OK and getting myself through, mind over matter, cope by doing, all that stuff, but what she was saying was so close to what I've been feeling that it just about did me in. I wanted to be able to reassure her, so badly. To be able to say, "No, it's nothing bad, it's just that she's had a slight setback, I didn't mean to scare you." But I couldn't.
Somehow we got through the phone call. Chris came in shortly after I hung up, and I was able to hang on to him and break down for a little while before having to go back to getting stuff done.
Another bad moment: my mother said I should take her car for now, so that if Chris is at work and she needs me, I'll be able to come quickly. Of course, that makes sense. Then she said that it should be easy to transfer ownership to me, since my name is on the papers already. She bought the car the year that I graduated from Queen's, and the dealer told her that if she listed me as co-owner, she could get the $800 rebate being offered to new grads.
I really wanted to scream at her that my ownership of the car is supposed to be a technicality. I've complained about not having a second car because it throws a wrench into our lives when Chris is on call or has bizarre work hours, but this is not how I wanted that problem solved. I felt like yelling "I don't want your fucking car, I want you! My kids are supposed to have a grandma, not some memories and a second car!!"
I hope it gives her some comfort to think of providing for us, or leaving us money or things we can use. I know some day it'll comfort me too. But right now I can't help resenting what this money and stuff means. One of the first things she said after she told us was that she wanted to make sure that Guy had the house to live in until he wanted to leave, and then we'd deal with it - he said he'd probably be there a year, or two - and I really wanted to tell her that he could live there forever as far as I was concerned. It's his house. He's the one who's put time and money and love into it. I don't want it - I don't want any of the stuff that isn't going to be a substitute for my mom.
There has been some positive stuff going on. Today I did a lot at her place - changed the sheets on the bed, made lunch, helped her with her medication, etc, while Guy sat and watched golf on TV. And seeing that helped. Guy's 73 years old, he's supposed to be relaxing and watching TV, not taking care of another dying wife. I know I can't do as much as I want for them, but at least he got to relax for a few hours today.
I also wrote an e-mail to my father, since my mom isn't getting out of bed much now. Told him what was going on, asked him to phone her instead of e-mailing. I hope he checks his e-mail soon.
Today we've got Justin's ballet class, Daniel going to see PoA with me while Justin and Chris go to Cosmic Adventures, then dinner with my mom. Somewhere in there we have to go to Hakim Optical, to get them to fix Justin's brand new glasses. We picked them up yesterday afternoon, and by evening both of them were missing one lens.
I better start my day.
Thursday June 17
We went to my mom's place for dinner last night and found out why she had wanted us to bring along a notebook to write things in. She's been told that her cancer is basically incurable; she's terminal. We don't know how long she has, but I got the impression that it would be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. She is no longer going to get radiotherapy designed to get rid of the lymphoma, because there's too much there to get rid of. She will be getting treatment for the pain and other discomfort.
I've been on the phone to various friends and family, letting them know. I also spent a lot of today at her house, keeping her company. She doesn't have much energy, but I'm hoping that if I go frequently and keep the visits short, that won't tax her too much. My aunt Gilda is hoping to come from Chile, and my cousin Ingrid from Germany. Hopefully that'll be a positive thing for her.
I haven't told the kids yet. No idea what to say. I've been alternating between wanting to cry and feeling very distant from everything. One thing I've really noticed, though, is an almost complete inability to stay mentally organized; I'm having to make lists to keep myself from just dithering instead of getting anything done, and I keep losing things - including my lists.
Don't really have much more to say about this.
Friday June 18
I called my aunt Marjorie in Chile, to let her know about my mom. And I don't know why but it just hit me really hard. First thing, she said, "Oh, Jimena! Oh, how are you doing, dear? And how are the boys?"
"We're fine, thanks-"
"And your mother?"
"Well... that's why I'm calling-"
And she sort of gasped, and said, "Oh - oh no! No, no, no..." like she really wanted me to not have to say what she knew I was going to say, like by saying No, she could make it not be true. And I've been mostly OK and getting myself through, mind over matter, cope by doing, all that stuff, but what she was saying was so close to what I've been feeling that it just about did me in. I wanted to be able to reassure her, so badly. To be able to say, "No, it's nothing bad, it's just that she's had a slight setback, I didn't mean to scare you." But I couldn't.
Somehow we got through the phone call. Chris came in shortly after I hung up, and I was able to hang on to him and break down for a little while before having to go back to getting stuff done.
Another bad moment: my mother said I should take her car for now, so that if Chris is at work and she needs me, I'll be able to come quickly. Of course, that makes sense. Then she said that it should be easy to transfer ownership to me, since my name is on the papers already. She bought the car the year that I graduated from Queen's, and the dealer told her that if she listed me as co-owner, she could get the $800 rebate being offered to new grads.
I really wanted to scream at her that my ownership of the car is supposed to be a technicality. I've complained about not having a second car because it throws a wrench into our lives when Chris is on call or has bizarre work hours, but this is not how I wanted that problem solved. I felt like yelling "I don't want your fucking car, I want you! My kids are supposed to have a grandma, not some memories and a second car!!"
I hope it gives her some comfort to think of providing for us, or leaving us money or things we can use. I know some day it'll comfort me too. But right now I can't help resenting what this money and stuff means. One of the first things she said after she told us was that she wanted to make sure that Guy had the house to live in until he wanted to leave, and then we'd deal with it - he said he'd probably be there a year, or two - and I really wanted to tell her that he could live there forever as far as I was concerned. It's his house. He's the one who's put time and money and love into it. I don't want it - I don't want any of the stuff that isn't going to be a substitute for my mom.
There has been some positive stuff going on. Today I did a lot at her place - changed the sheets on the bed, made lunch, helped her with her medication, etc, while Guy sat and watched golf on TV. And seeing that helped. Guy's 73 years old, he's supposed to be relaxing and watching TV, not taking care of another dying wife. I know I can't do as much as I want for them, but at least he got to relax for a few hours today.
I also wrote an e-mail to my father, since my mom isn't getting out of bed much now. Told him what was going on, asked him to phone her instead of e-mailing. I hope he checks his e-mail soon.
Today we've got Justin's ballet class, Daniel going to see PoA with me while Justin and Chris go to Cosmic Adventures, then dinner with my mom. Somewhere in there we have to go to Hakim Optical, to get them to fix Justin's brand new glasses. We picked them up yesterday afternoon, and by evening both of them were missing one lens.
I better start my day.
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no subject
Date: 2004-06-19 07:43 am (UTC)I have faith that you will get through this, because you are a strong and wonderful woman ... but nevertheless, I am sending you all my strength reserves, just in case. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-06-19 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-19 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-19 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-19 04:51 pm (UTC)I'd prefer so much to offer you hopeful and cheerful ways of coping but only you will be able to come to terms with that. I miss my father so much to this day and I, too, have cursed that he isn't here to watch his grandchildren flourish into such beautiful individuals.
My name is Kathryn and if you want to vent or talk about what you are going through, I'm here. Again, I am so very sorry for you to have to go through this.
Treasure each day now and leave nothing unsaid. Take lots of photos of her with your children. I cherish the couple that I have of mine even though they are sometimes painful reminders that those are all I have.
Kathryn Gallagher
Hemet, CA
kathrygallagher@adelphia.net