• When Life Throws a Curveball

    “He’s a very sick man,” the doctor said today. Jim is in the hospital Intensive Care Unit (ICU).

    Jim had been sick for about a month, but the last two weeks, he just kept getting worse.
    He had lost a lot of weight with the cancer, so he wore suspenders to hold his pants up. Jim has a pacemaker in his chest, and the suspenders rubbed against it, causing it to get infected. I kept telling him to call his doctor and make an appointment, but he wouldn’t do it. He was getting worse, not better, and I finally called 911.

    Here is what I know so far. His blood sugar is high because of his infection, and his potassium, sodium, and phosphorus levels are low. He is very confused, and the doctor has now order a C-scan for his head. I don’t even want to think about what that means… Did the cancer metastasize in the brain? It did with my mom…

    “He’s a very sick man.”




  • Life Without Stalkers

    I have managed to ignore my stalker for over a year now… How liberating that is! All I had to do was ignore her, or anything she posted, by just not looking. After everything I have been through, this was a relief. None of that was important anymore. Who would have thunk it’d be so easy. I just do not care anymore.

    I knew the posts were all lies, my stalker has perfected lying over her stalking years; lies that would leave me bristling angrily, and then retaliating. Why? Why did I bother? The two other people that read the posts were already biased, so who cares?

    What could she say or do that was worse than the loss of my parents? What could be worse than feeling alone… I have no siblings to share my sorrow with, but I have learned that I am not alone, for I have the support of great friends and family that support me, holding me up with their love.

    I am blessed.


  • Trying To Get Things Together

    I broke my right shoulder just as my left one was healing… Am I setting myself up?

    On the bright side, I ordered an electric contractor to check out the wiring in my parents house, it has been messed up from the beginning, and I also ordered a new garage door to be installed. The current garage door is on its last days, and there is no way to fix it, though I know my son has tried! He has spent too much money to get it fixed! It’s time to give up and get a new one.

    I might even start probate… I will need to hire a probate attorney that can do it all for me… It should not cost a lot, I am an only child and no one will contest the Will, but I still question why I need probate for such a a simple thing! My parents did not have a huge estate, less than $500,000, so it should be no big deal… I suspect this probate stuff was added to make money for those who have no business interfering with family. I pay all the bills and the property tax for the house, and currently my children live there. Why does the law have to make things so difficult?


  • Depression is Life Consuming

    I fell and broke my left shoulder on the day I was supposed to pick up my mother’s ashes. I also cracked a couple of ribs and really messed up my right knee. I had surgery on October 26th, 2017, and spent several days in bed, my daughter picked the ashes up for me and took them home; I had just inherited a house.

    I could not drive for 12 weeks, and my wonderful husband stepped up to the task. I should have started probate immediately, but have yet to start the process… I am an only child, how hard can it be?

    It is very hard when I do not even want to get out of bed, I don’t want to eat so I have lost weight (which is a good thing), but I don’t take my medicine (it’s too hard), this is bad.

    I always thought I was a strong person, but I have learned that I am vulnerable… I have yet to learn to cope.

    My husband is being incredible! We bought each other a new car for Valentine’s day.

    Meet Xander

    I love my new car! The first thing I wanted to do was drive it to my parents house to show them, but they weren’t there, so we drove home.

    Life is so much easier when I bury my head in the sand…


  • Nightmares

    My dad died, unexpectedly, in October 2016. He had a massive stroke. My mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer in April of 2016 and was given four to six weeks to live. She fooled them all, being the strong woman she was, but passed away in September of 2017. I have had the strangest nightmares…
     
    My dad is driving our 1969 Chevy Van, with my mother sitting in the passenger seat. I am sitting in the back, like I did as a child when we’d go camping, which we did almost every weekend. I am an only child.

    Getting ready to go camping.

    This time, however, I was an adult, and my current cat, Samantha, was with me. Dad would take a corner, a bit too fast, the side door would open, and Samantha and I would go flying out. Mom and dad never came to look for me, and when I would spot the van in traffic, it would disappear.

    I desperately tried to find them, getting rides from a myriad of kind strangers, from several different ethnic backgrounds, but I could not find them, growing desperate in my search.

    I have now spent several days trying to analyse the dream… What seems obvious is that my beloved parents are sending me a message. They are telling me that it is not my time to join them, and I need to move forward.

    There is also hope in that message; they are telling me that they are still watching over me, and that they love me.


  • Update

    UPDATE!

    When her husband called me, he said she was convulsing and could not answer him. He called 911 and when the EMT’s got there they said her blood sugar was 20!. Cynthia has late onset type I diabetes, diagnosed about two years ago. Unfortunately, she has no medical insurance. That is another story that I do not want to get into right now.

    I just talked to her, and she is sounding more and more like herself. They plan to admit her into Sutter Roseville so she is waiting for a room. She promised me she would be okay… She promised me!


  • I’ve Been Negligent… I’m Sorry

    The post with my dad’s obituary on November 6, 2016, was the last post I have written here. Writing a new post will push it down below this one… I wasn’t ready to do that before, I am not sure if I am ready now.

    I was not ready for any of this; my hubby is diagnosed with Lymphoma on December 13, 2015 and goes through a course of chemo. In April of 2016, my mother is diagnosed with lung cancer and given four to six weeks to live. She had chemo for a couple of months, but it was too much for her, so she stopped the chemo. She has been on oxygen ever since, using an oxygen machine at home. She is still with us today, but recently she has been in the hospital several times. She has congestive heart failure and her lungs fill with fluid so she get pneumonia. In the hospital they give her medicine, then send her home.

    In September of 2016, my dad was suddenly showing signs of illness. At the end of September, he went to the emergency room twice, only to be released. Something was very wrong. On Thursday, September 29th, 2016, dad had a massive stroke.

    This is really hard… I write this with tears flowing freely… This is not necessarily a bad thing…

    Since the stroke, there was only only one word he could say, it was “Eila,” my mother’s name. There was something he wanted to share, and on Saturday and Sunday he tried to speak to both of us. His frustration was apparent as he tried to form the words that would not come. I privately assured him that he did not have to worry about mom for I would be there for her. He seemed to relax a little.

    On Tuesday, October 4th 2016, my mother and I were sitting on opposite sides of his bed, me on his right, mom on his left. We had just been asked by the hospital staff to decide which nursing home we should place dad in. Dad had an oxygen mask on, and he could not speak, but as I looked into his beautiful crystal blue eyes, they were clear. He knew what was going on. As mom and I talked, I glanced at dad and his mask seemed to fog up. I reached for his hand, but it was too late. The nurses came bursting into the room; the alarm at the nurse’s desk had gone off. Dad’s heart had stopped.

    I begged him to come back, even when I knew he could not.