Throwback Thursday

I was going to write about the less than stellar parts of our trip today but I’m really scattered.  The task of going through almost 1500 pictures to pick out the ones to illustrate my points is just a bit overwhelming to me today.  I’m not sure why, but I need to blog the things in my head just to clear them out, give them a home and move on.

Yesterday, I had a typical yearly checkup, although I begged off the gynecological stuff – told her I’d see my ob/gyn for that – which I probably will.  She also reminded me that I’d need a mammogram. . yeah, whatever.   She checked my throat, which has been swollen and sore, my glands on my left side swollen and very tender.  Checked my throat and thought it might be strep (got white spots on my tonsils!) and had me tested but it was negative.  Palpated my stomach, was very tender – everywhere except where my gallbladder used to be.  Suggested that I have a tetanus shot since I can’t remember ever having had one.  I’d been fasting for 12 hours, so they also drew blood for my blood sugar levels and cholesterol levels (which I was SO thrilled about, having just eaten like a pig for 7 days on vacation).  All in all, I’m fine – except for all the other things going on with me.   I guess I was pretty … unnerved? that she didn’t further explore why my abdomen is so tender, and she didn’t come back after the strep test results to tell me what to do about my throat… I was left hanging.  I had hoped she’d be different, but I guess not.

Tomorrow, I have my brain MRI with contrast.  This has me shaken.  I’m afraid of the dye.  I’m afraid of having a reaction to it.  I’m afraid of the results – good or bad.  If it comes out good – no more spots, well that’s good  – but then WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?  If it’s bad – crap – what do I do now?  Also, I’ve gained another 10 lbs at least since the last MRI – will I even FIT into the stupid machine this time.  The waiting is the worst, truly.

Did I tell you that last week while on vacation, I couldn’t find my contact lens case  when I desperately needed to take them out of my eyes, so I put them in their own cup (left for left, right for right) on the bathroom vanity – and went to bed.  They were well out of reach of the kids – or so I thought.  After I went to bed, though, Jimmy decided to let Libby take a bath to help her get sleepy – and unbeknownst to me, she used one of the cups to play with in the tub.   Yes, you guessed it – bye bye 1 contact.  So I tossed the other one, like an idiot, and went back to using my glasses.  Now on this coming Friday, I have to explain all that, and oh by the way, they weren’t working very well anyways – can I PLEASE have some more?  Yes, I am made of money, as a matter of fact.

Finally, I thought I’d told you about my “biological” father – about his condition, etc.  but upon searching my archives, I can’t seem to find it.  My bio father lived a very hard life of drinking and partying.  He kept coming in to my life and then walking back out.  He & my mom divorced when I was 18 months old because he’d come out of the closet -or rather, was dragged out.  He only helped her out financially once in a blue moon.  He was not a father.  Never.  However, I am still in contact with my grandmother, and she called a few years ago to say that bio father was in rough shape.  He’d been found in a hotel room somewhere on the way to Florida, where he’d gotten off a bus, confused and disoriented.   It was determined that he may have had a stroke, or perhaps more than that.

His longtime friend went and got him and apparently brought him back to Connecticut where he lived.  He apparently continued to have these mini strokes, and wound up in a rehabilitation center.  When we decided to go to Tennessee 2 years ago, we decided to stop in there and see him, because everyone was telling me that 1) he wouldn’t remember me, 2) he probably didn’t have alot of time left.  SO I went… and brought my 2 kids – and I was shocked by what I saw.  He’d lost probably 150 lbs., was wheelchair bound and had aged … greatly.  He did recognize me, though.  You could tell in his eyes.  He also cannot speak.  We stayed for a little while and then continued on to Tennessee.  Over the next few months, even his lifelong friend stopped going to see him because he didn’t even know him.

Well, last week while I was in TN, my grandmother called my mom to tell her that things weren’t going well, and that when the lifelong friend went to make the final arrangements with the funeral home, he was told no one could authorize his cremation except for his closest living relative – i.e. ME.  Not even his mother.  ME.  So I called my grandmother, then called the rehab, and finally the funeral home, and got things taken care of (the paperwork is in the mail to me now) – so even though this man was *never* there for me, apparently I can do something for him even now.  Will I go to the funeral? Probably.  Will I mourn him? I don’t know.   But it’s also weighing on my mind.  The rehab tells me there’s nothing imminent – so that’s good.  He’s comfortable, he communicates his needs to the staff.  He’s lost even more weight, but he eats, drinks, takes his meds.  So all is the same as it was.  I’m not sure why it became so urgent for the details to be taken care of, but at least now they are.  But it’s on my mind.

After the last visit, I was left so angry – he never even bothered to get to know his grandson that he knew about, and now couldn’t get to know him nor his sister.   He never really even knew me.   He was too selfish and self involved to bother to take an interest in my life.  Only when it suited him or assuaged his guilt did he call or send a note.   He insinuated himself into my life a year before I got married mostly so he could be involved with the wedding.  As soon as it was done, so was he.   Same when I was pregnant with Anthony.  He saw that baby maybe 4 times in his life, ending when he was about 4.  When we went to see him, I didn’t tell anthony who he was until after we had left.  I made sure he understood that although he could be considered his grandfather, he really WASN’T – that Pepe’ (my DAD) was his grandfather.  He agreed 100%

So anyway, I’m scattered and nervous.  I can’t stop this damned tremor – I shake like a 90 yr old sometimes.  Othertimes, it’s barely noticeable on the outside, but I can still feel it on the inside.  The numbness is back in full force.  I just don’t know what’s next.

I just wish I could be like this again:

Care free, hanging out with my sibs, watching ‘toons.

Empty ad slot (#1)!