Tuesday, December 20, 2011
i copied this from a blog i did almost two years ago....
What else has been going on? Quick update on the parents I suppose. Dad's actually again doing a little better, has even gained a significant amount of weight back, which was a huge issue - he was down to 110, and he's a tall man...so the few pounds he's put back on are important. I swear my father is like the energizer bunny, just keeps going and going. I even said that to him a few nights ago, he laughed and we were joking like "won't you just hurry up and die" kind of thing, which of course sounds terrible but if your reading this and know my dad, and the humor he has and that we have together you know that it's just how we are and it was actually a funny and innocent conversation. He really is astonishing though, Doctors have counted him out of the game so many times...as have I - always thinking that "it's really happening this time, he's really dying" and he always bounces back. He really is like the energizer bunny and I am damn thankful for it and hope that it continues for quite some time to come. Just can't imagine what life would be like for me without him - he's half of me - so many choices i made were to stay in the area and no be away from him - so what would happen if one day he just died? I'm sure I'd become a mess, and my whole life would loose a great deal of meaning and significance. I don't know - lets just hope he keeps fooling these Doctors and lives to be 100.
'You gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em. know when to walk away, know when to run"
There are all sorts of sayings.... like - Pick your battles
- Dedicate to things you fully believe in, or people
- Know when to walk away
- Know when you should stay
- Go with your gut, but at what costs?
I'm really bad with any part of any situation that gives the good advice of just walking away from something. When my marriage was falling apart, I knew it was over - but I would have stayed with him rather then be without him, even if it meant a miserable marriage. I was convinced for way to long that we could make it work, that he and i belonged together. I was terrified of being alone, being a single mother...etc.
That's just 1 of many more examples of how I 'go with my gut' without using my brain. I run almost totally on emotions, which can make me carry a few positive traits, but it can also steer me in so many wrong directions. Feelings are feelings, and I need to learn not to base choices on feelings alone.
My ego is fragile and gets bruised often. Because of that i usually end up holding that against the few people in my life who don't deserve it. I hold on to ever ounce of emotional pain i've ever had, and it makes me more full of baggage then any other single mom in my shoes.
Lately all I've done is see the worst in people - forgetting all the good. I dont want to be that bitter, sad, lonely, person that lets that kind of thinking get the best of her. I dont want to wake up 50 and see myself in the same light.
Good things are coming - and i have the balls to just wish i had someone to share those things with? I am a damn strong person, and i'm sure countless people reading this just laughed out loud at that statement. But I have survived more then most people my age, or older ever have. I think if I was as weak as I can come across sometimes, then I'd be dead by now. But I'm not, and i need to at least give myself some credit for making it this far, through all the shit storms, deaths, drugs, jail, almost loosing my life just this summer, etc.
So yeah Christmas will suck this year without my dad with us. But I'll deal with that, so Brian can have the best Christmas as to date. That also makes me strong. I might not be mommy of the week, day even .... but i put his happiness above my saddness. I'm making things better only thinking of how that could help him in his future. Good things are out there, people too. I just have felt betrayed by some people lately i never would have imagined....but again, i blame one of them for a million other things as well - so it doesn't even kind of even out to be fair on them.
This is a lot of randomness I know. But hey, random thoughts pop into my head, then i blog - that's the point, i think?
XOOOXOXOXOXOOXOX
- Dedicate to things you fully believe in, or people
- Know when to walk away
- Know when you should stay
- Go with your gut, but at what costs?
I'm really bad with any part of any situation that gives the good advice of just walking away from something. When my marriage was falling apart, I knew it was over - but I would have stayed with him rather then be without him, even if it meant a miserable marriage. I was convinced for way to long that we could make it work, that he and i belonged together. I was terrified of being alone, being a single mother...etc.
That's just 1 of many more examples of how I 'go with my gut' without using my brain. I run almost totally on emotions, which can make me carry a few positive traits, but it can also steer me in so many wrong directions. Feelings are feelings, and I need to learn not to base choices on feelings alone.
My ego is fragile and gets bruised often. Because of that i usually end up holding that against the few people in my life who don't deserve it. I hold on to ever ounce of emotional pain i've ever had, and it makes me more full of baggage then any other single mom in my shoes.
Lately all I've done is see the worst in people - forgetting all the good. I dont want to be that bitter, sad, lonely, person that lets that kind of thinking get the best of her. I dont want to wake up 50 and see myself in the same light.
Good things are coming - and i have the balls to just wish i had someone to share those things with? I am a damn strong person, and i'm sure countless people reading this just laughed out loud at that statement. But I have survived more then most people my age, or older ever have. I think if I was as weak as I can come across sometimes, then I'd be dead by now. But I'm not, and i need to at least give myself some credit for making it this far, through all the shit storms, deaths, drugs, jail, almost loosing my life just this summer, etc.
So yeah Christmas will suck this year without my dad with us. But I'll deal with that, so Brian can have the best Christmas as to date. That also makes me strong. I might not be mommy of the week, day even .... but i put his happiness above my saddness. I'm making things better only thinking of how that could help him in his future. Good things are out there, people too. I just have felt betrayed by some people lately i never would have imagined....but again, i blame one of them for a million other things as well - so it doesn't even kind of even out to be fair on them.
This is a lot of randomness I know. But hey, random thoughts pop into my head, then i blog - that's the point, i think?
XOOOXOXOXOXOOXOX
Friday, December 16, 2011
Quick Post
I just copied and pasted this from my face book status. The first part that is in quotes came from a website that sends me daily messages about dealing with loss. The second is me trying to hard to explain why it feels the way it does for me. I dunno... just trying to make the few people in my life who are trying to understand what this is doing to me that I love them for even giving it a second thought - and I do need you in my life... the problem is that it shouldn't be one persons resposibility for me to put all that need onto them - even the few close friends I have shouldn't even have to take one sections of that kind of need. I know this will get better - and I apologize for being so 'needy' right now. I'm sure after Christmas this will calm back down in my head again like it was for awhile. I'm positive that it will get easier. Just praying that it comes sooner then later.
"You are more than your grief. Although it feels so big that it overtakes your life, your life is bigger. Your soul is bigger. You have a vast spaciousness within you that mirrors the spaciousness around you. This can be difficult to remember and even harder, at times, to recognize, but grief is NOT the TOTALITY of your existence on this planet. Hold the spaciousness and the grief simultaneously. Grief can make you feel like you've lost purpose especially if your loved one was ill and you helped care for them...the questions of 'now what' are probably echoing in your head countless times a day. You are more then your grief, and you were always more then the person your grieving for. Sometimes the hardest part comes right after a death, other times it hits you months or even years later and comes with no warning. The grieving process is not a science, and EVERY person will go through it differently. Try to be thankful for those you have that are still with you - it's not weak to ask for help, it might just be one of the strongest things you will ever do. I just hope for your sake that the people around you will be there if you reach out, because I know how hard it can be to do something seemingly so simple. Just keep remembering today, all day, that you are more then your grief." - Needed these words today
I might post a lot about my dad and missing him. If I see you I might even talk about it casually in passing. If we're close I'll talk about it often, but rarely even allow myself to tear up while doing so. But when the hard parts hit I don't talk, during those times Id like nothing more then to hide in a locked room where I'd never have to answer the question ' are you ok ' again. Because people just ask you that hoping to hear, 'yep, i'm fine' and then they can say that they asked, tried, did their part. FINE means, fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional - so if I say I'm fine, then that's exactly what I mean. My father was a ghost to the world long before he died - out of site out of mind. That's why he didn't get visitors at the nursing home - because he had been a ghost for so many years. He just wasn't a ghost to me, he was literally half of me. He wasn't a ghost to my mom, or to Brian, or to Jim when he lived here ... but grieiving for someone who people feel has to them been gone 10 years already, makes it easy for them to forget that it's only been 3 months to me and my mom. Ugh I'm just rambling....I hope everyone has a great day - I gotta get ready for work!
"You are more than your grief. Although it feels so big that it overtakes your life, your life is bigger. Your soul is bigger. You have a vast spaciousness within you that mirrors the spaciousness around you. This can be difficult to remember and even harder, at times, to recognize, but grief is NOT the TOTALITY of your existence on this planet. Hold the spaciousness and the grief simultaneously. Grief can make you feel like you've lost purpose especially if your loved one was ill and you helped care for them...the questions of 'now what' are probably echoing in your head countless times a day. You are more then your grief, and you were always more then the person your grieving for. Sometimes the hardest part comes right after a death, other times it hits you months or even years later and comes with no warning. The grieving process is not a science, and EVERY person will go through it differently. Try to be thankful for those you have that are still with you - it's not weak to ask for help, it might just be one of the strongest things you will ever do. I just hope for your sake that the people around you will be there if you reach out, because I know how hard it can be to do something seemingly so simple. Just keep remembering today, all day, that you are more then your grief." - Needed these words today
I might post a lot about my dad and missing him. If I see you I might even talk about it casually in passing. If we're close I'll talk about it often, but rarely even allow myself to tear up while doing so. But when the hard parts hit I don't talk, during those times Id like nothing more then to hide in a locked room where I'd never have to answer the question ' are you ok ' again. Because people just ask you that hoping to hear, 'yep, i'm fine' and then they can say that they asked, tried, did their part. FINE means, fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional - so if I say I'm fine, then that's exactly what I mean. My father was a ghost to the world long before he died - out of site out of mind. That's why he didn't get visitors at the nursing home - because he had been a ghost for so many years. He just wasn't a ghost to me, he was literally half of me. He wasn't a ghost to my mom, or to Brian, or to Jim when he lived here ... but grieiving for someone who people feel has to them been gone 10 years already, makes it easy for them to forget that it's only been 3 months to me and my mom. Ugh I'm just rambling....I hope everyone has a great day - I gotta get ready for work!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Fun Idea....
I was just updating my profile and there is a section where you can answer 1 really random question about the dumbest things, like "why do you think the Earth is flat" or "If you were a cannible what would you wear to dinner" really weird shit. Who comes up with these questions is what I'd like to know. I've generated like 12 different ones trying to find something with a little meaning, or something funny that could give my readers a better sense of my humor, or outlook on life - but so such luck with using the questions the blogger page asks. So how's this, ask me the most random question possible, and I promise to answer it as honestly and openly as I can??? Just put it in as a comment, and let me know who you are, and we'll go from there. It might be a fun way to get to know me personally a little bit more, if that's possible considering there aren't many topics I don't touch on just by writing the blog - but things I wouldn't think to write about, questions I wouldn't think to answer, stuff like that. It can be as random, funny, deep, personal, crazy or even insane of a question as you can come up with....a challenge for us both :-)
I put up a picture of me and my very best girlfriend...I did that because she knows me better then almost anyone, so ask me a question from her perspective if it's easier, since she know's everything it'll make it a tad harder to think of something no one else has ever thought to ask or been curious to know.
I put up a picture of me and my very best girlfriend...I did that because she knows me better then almost anyone, so ask me a question from her perspective if it's easier, since she know's everything it'll make it a tad harder to think of something no one else has ever thought to ask or been curious to know.
Pictures
Just some pictures - couple are old photo's that I took a picture of with my new digital camera (awesome early Christmas gift from Zat) and a couple are recent of my pride and joy, Brian...to show how damn grown up he's looking - time just goes way too fast! XOXOXO *Krista*
Life and Death
I recently spent a few minutes trying to write an open and honest, fully divulging, therapeutic and non redundant post about all the events that had happened in my life since the last time I had written. The reason I always wanted to keep up on this project of mine was because I know me, and once too much time passes in between posts there is just so much to try and fill my readers in on that it becomes overwhelming....which then causes me to write a half-assed blog, a rushed post that barely gets into things on any real level, but instead just skims the surface of whatever I'm writing about, and have been dealing with on a personal level. So the only way for me to really sit down and write the way that works best for me is to pretend that I've been writing all along, that you already know everything of importance that's occurred and just concentrate on what it is I feel the need to share, instead of getting overwhelmed and not writing at all. So that's what I'm going to do this morning - if some of it's repeated information from my latest entry I apologize, so here's to my best effort of describing what I've been going through since I lost my father.
For anyone who knows me now or did earlier in my life, for anyone who's read my blog or has known my family at any point during my lifetime, and for anyone who knows even just a little bit about me through the grapevine already knows that I've spent my entire life in fear of loosing my dad. I dwelled and dwelled on it so much as a child that I'm sure it was very unhealthy for my mental development and well being. It's always been the 'big fear' the phobia, the darkness that's hung over my head. My mom dealt with her husbands illness in the opposite way, pure denial - he had gone through so many bad phases and bounced back, that I honestly believe that she, at some point, was able to convince herself that she'd never loose him. I always thought my way of approaching the subject was healthier, that it meant I'd be more prepared when it finally did happen - that I was at least dealing with it...but now I truly believe that my mom actually was the one who had it right all these years. Almost every special occasion that I can remember was in part dampered down if not ruined because instead of focusing on how happy I was that Dad was still here, I was concentrating on the fact that that Christmas, or this birthday, or something like that would be his last - then I'd imagine how that would feel, and poof their went my special occasion. I don't say this lightly, but his illness defined me, I allowed it to - the fear I carried with me my entire life weighed on me in such unhealthy ways, it was more of an obsession then it was anything else. I made really big choices in my life, and later down the road those choices affected not only me but a husband and child. Moving away from home, more then maybe an hours drive was something I never considered because I had to be close incase something happened - there were jobs I turned down, opportunities I missed out on and like I said before it was all consuming and totally defined who I was and how I lived my life. I'm not talking about issues I had with drugs being caused by this, or using this as an excuse to why I turned out certain ways that I did.... and my Dad wanted me to succeed more then anything, he wanted to see me happy, healthy, in love and being loved more then he wished for anything else. He always knew what an impact his sickness had on me, and he hated it, blamed himself for me being sad or scared for such a big part of my life. I did though want to clarify that I'm talking about my entire life, choices I made when I was 15 or 16 (before I had even ever gotten drunk or smoked weed) I'm talking about the big picture, not just the section of my life that I've written about so much in this blog, the reasons for there even being a blog to speak of.
The point I'm trying to get at is that because I built loosing my dad up so much in my head, that instead of it preparing me for the day it happened it had almost the opposite effect....the only good thing I can say about how I managed that fear and my life with him, is that I didn't really take it for granted - there were times I'm sure - but the majority of the time our relationship was one in a million. And that is because I always had his illness in the back of my head so we had certain rules in my house growing up....we would never go to bed mad, even if it meant staying up and fighting far into the night we would, my head wasn't allowed to touch my pillow until whatever issue that was there had been resolved, at least enough to say "I love you" and we'll talk more about this in the morning. Every time I left the house I'd give my parents a kiss on the cheek and tell them I loved then, as they did me. At the end of every phone call there was an "I love You," my dad and I would write little notes to each other, every card we ever gave one another had been thought of and not bought quickly but instead we took the time to find the ones that were just perfect for us. I'm comforted by so many pictures, letters, cards, video's....and all those were saved knowing that one day they would be all I had. For petes sake I have his hospital bracelet from when he had that big operation in Pittsburg, I've got little cards from flowers he would get me if we had had a fight the night before and if he felt like he was wrong, I'd get flowers delivered to me with a note that just said "I'm sorry" or "I love you" I saved all those things through all those years. So although my fear of his death took away a lot of my innocence as a kid, and my piece of mind growing up - the way I handled it had it's good points too... the relationship that my father and I had was what it was due to that fear, due to his illness. I don’t know any other woman who shared the kind of Father/Daughter relationship that I had - he was home more then most other Dads because of his illness, so he played Mr. Mom often - I could talk to him about anything, and I mean anything! So although I was always scared of the big black monster that for me was life without him, it did have it's good points. And 10 years ago I thought that it would prevent me in full of having to deal with any type of guilt after he was gone, because I knew he was fully aware of how much I cared for him, how much he meant to me....I was basically a near perfect daughter for the majority of my life. Unfortunately when that changed, when I started rebelling, when I started making awful choices in my life, and when those choices hurt my father more then I could possibly describe I lost that guilt free attitude with him. And it's that guilt that is now giving me the hardest grieving time that I've ever had in the past. When my grandfather passed away there was no guilt - I had expressed to him how much I loved him, I had never disappointed him in the ways I later would have if he hadn't died when he did. I was lying next to him for Gods sake when he took his last breath....so while it devastated me more then I could have imagined...when I was coping with his death I didn't have that awful, all consuming guilt hanging over my head. When Ellis died there was a little guilt there, guilt for not being who he wanted me to be in his life, guilt for being so scared of his death that until those last months with him occurred I had tried pushing him away, thinking it'd hurt less if I were to lose him. But those last months did happen, and I was there for him in every way I could, I told him 10 times a day how much I loved him, how sorry I was that these were the cards he was dealt, how sorry I was for not being a better friend at times during his illness. But I was given a chance to make it right, and I took that chance and ran with it...and looking back I had done that a few times even prior to his last months - like when I organized and worked my ass off on that bone marrow drive I've mentioned at least once in this blog. So yeah there was 'some' guilt there after he died, some little things that kept popping up in my head when I was grieving for him....but for the most part I had peace - knowing that in the end I was a great friend to him, that he knew how much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him. That peace helped me more then anything else could have, with both my Papa and Ellis...but that isn't the case this time around.
My father and I loved one another unconditionally. We'd fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but usually only because we were so much alike, both stubborn and always ready for an argument. But the relationship him and I shared for the first 20 years of my life ended up changing in that last 8 years of his life. He lost respect for me in little pieces here and there for random things I had done or choices I had made. But on June 6th, 2009 I made a choice that would change our relationship in ways that were irreversible. When I was arrested, with his beautiful grandson in the car, when all light was shed on the life I had been living right under his nose without him knowing about it, and when he realized that he could no longer recognize me that was not a turning point for us, it was THE turning point for us. He never wanted perfection from me, his dreams for me weren't aimed at riches, fame, a Pulitzer prize, lol - he just wanted me to be an honest, respectable, loving person - a good mom, a good wife - he wanted for me to be able to be proud of myself - he wanted better for me then he had, etc....he told me one time that I could murder someone, and although he would turn me in (if he thought others were in danger from me) that he would love me no less then he had before, that he would always be in my corner, and that nothing at all could ever change that. He didn't bank on me hurting the one person who came closest to his heart as I did, Brian. So when that happened he told Jim point blank, as long as Brian gets home safe to them, he didn't care if I rotted in that jail cell. At that point he meant every word. The anger faded throughout the next few years - he saw how hard I was trying to right my wrongs - he acknowledged that I was a good mom despite my past actions - he wanted nothing more then to put it all behind us. I have no doubt that he was able to forgive me for my actions during those darkest years, but he didn't have the ability to forget them....and he lived his last years in constant fear that I would end up right back to that point again - that I'd screw up in another horrific way and I'd loose Brian...that fear which he carried made it impossible for us to ever again have that relationship we once had.
So there's where the guilt comes into play. It's a worthless emotion, I know - because I can't change the reasons I have that guilt - and now that he's gone I can't make up for it, or talk to him about it, or whatever I could try to make it right between us again. And after spending my entire life just wanting 1 more year...or him to live long enough to see this, or that...after being so grateful that he made it as long as he did....now part of me wishes I had lost him at 18 - because then I'd be at peace with who I was to him, how strong our relationship was. But of course I'm thrilled that he had 6 full years with Brian - and I wouldn't take that away from either of them just so I could selfishly deal with his death easier. It's just a double edged sword - because by definition I was one hell of a daughter to him until I wasn't - and it seemed to really happen that quickly and without warning.
Then of course both my mom and I have a certain level of guilt that he lived his last months in a nursing home and not here with us. We know in our heads that it was the best option for our whole family, especially my Dad ... but his depression and fear that he felt being over there is a hard pill for us to swallow. He adjusted in the last couple months, and agreed that we had made the right choice - but those first few months spent in the Nursing Home were harder on him then we ever could have seen coming. He said one day to me that he just couldn't believe that this was it, that after fighting for as long as he had, for doing everything he could to stick around for our family, that this was how it was ending....him alone in a bed in a nursing home, where people either go to get rehabilitation, or where they go to die - and he knew which he was there for. Me getting hurt in the beginning of his last summer doesn't help my level of guilt either. I know I didn't get hurt on purpose, and that I didn't have a choice in the matter - but it kept me away from him for 4 entire weeks while I was in the hospital and when I first made it home. It kept me from being able to visit him on a regular basis, to once a week if I was lucky. So missing out on all that time that I could have had with him, hadn't I been hurt, is something else that I'm having a hard time dealing with.
Don't get me wrong though, his last month or so was different. He had come to peace about staying at the nursing home for good...he was having a lot more good days then he had been having a few months prior. Brian, my mom and I were visiting often - Mom was even living there for rehab on her knee for a few weeks, which brought them closer together then they had been in a long time. I'm jealous of that, but so happy for my mom because any guilt she had was being cut down to a more bearable size - they had told each other that they had been lucky for that time because they fell in love with each other all over again....what a gift! The last conversation they had was the afternoon before he died....they last words they spoke to each other were (mom - "I love you Frankie" Dad - "I love you more sweetheart") It can't get much better then that. I didn't see him that day. I had gone to a Dr's appointment in Glens Falls with my grandmother, Brian and mom, and was pissed off when we got home because I wasn't healing as quickly as I was wanting, I was still in so much pain, and I had a attitude that afternoon...one that caused me to not want to deal with anyone, so when we got back to North Creek my mom dropped me and Brian off at the house, and she went to see my dad....I hadn't even called him that night - well I had tried but he didn't answer. So I can't tell you what our last words were to each other, I can't say that I had an amazing conversation with him that day - and I'm jealous of my mom for getting them both.
When the phone rang at 10:00 - 10:30 PM that night I knew right away it had something to do with Dad. Him being dead never entered my mind, but I thought maybe he was having a bad night, confused, scared - and they were calling to see if someone could come sit with him...or a nurse was letting us know that he was going to the hospital for whatever reason. But when I heard her voice, and when she asked specifically to speak with my mom it all changed. The volume on the phone was loud enough that I even heard her ask my mom if she was sitting down - I knew. My mom freaked out, she was in such shock because there hadn't been a warning, she screamed and cried - I just sat calmly and called my Aunt and Grandmother to ask one of them to come over and pick her up, she had to go to the nursing home to sign papers, and wait for the funeral home to pick him up. Brian was here that night so I wasn't going anywhere, and even if he hadn't been - I still would have stayed home.... I was numb, it wasn't real to me at all. So my Aunt and Zat (grandmother) rushed right over to the house to pick up my mom....I asked my mom to tell them not to come in because I didn't want to see anyone - because I didn't want the numbness to be gone yet. But my Aunt Sass did come in, and she sat next to me and hugged me, cried and told me how sorry she was....it was starting to sink in. Then after they left - I calmly started the phone calls, Jim, my sister Laura, my best friend Katy, and my best guy friend at the time Steve. Steve was amazing, before I had a chance to finish the sentence he had turned his truck around and was heading here to be with me. I know I ended up freaking him out a little bit though by the lack of emotion I was showing - I wasn't a puddle, I was like a robot one minute, then a little emotion would spill out until I caught myself and went back to being a robot.
I miss my father more then I could possibly explain. I'd give almost anything for 1 more movie night with him...1 more moment where I acted like a lap dog and would curl myself on top of his lap for a big hug....1 more argument even....1 more "I love you", just 1 more of anything. In the last 3 months since he died I've gone back and fourth between Robot and emotional basket case. There will be days upon days that I don't even tear up....then there will be a day, without any reason or warning where I can barely hold myself together. It's extra hard that he was such a Ghost to the majority of people well before his death. Even my mother's family had barely laid eyes on him for the last few years of his life. He wasn't able to go to the store anymore - my mom wasn't working at the Laundromat anymore so he didn't have there to go to socialize and get out of the house - he hadn't been well enough to go to family functions, etc. So other then for my Mom, myself, Brian, Jim, Zat and a few random people that would be at my house sporadically to visit - he was a Ghost. It's hard enough when it's all done, like the funeral, the people stopping over, the cards stop coming, people stop randomly calling to check it - that's when it starts to really hit you...but in my dads situation it wasn't just that typical stuff that was hard, knowing that his death would only truly affect a small handful of people was hard to accept. He was too good of a man for that, he was my everything, so it's hard to see that other people had felt like he was gone years before he actually died.
Sometime I just want to be alone, to not have anyone around me. But there are other times where I want to let go of holding it all inside, be around someone I'm comfortable enough with to cry, scream, whatever it is I feel I need to do at that time. Nights are the hardest of course - so that's usually when I frantically at times will reach out to the few good friends I have....and if it's at all possible beg them if I must to come over and hang out, just to watch a movie - just so I'm not sitting alone, scared, sad, missing my father. Quiet has become an enemy of mine, thinking has become what sets me off, and the guilt is what I dwell on. But when I get lucky, and happen to be having one of those awful nights, and can find a good friend to sit with me, just be here, it makes all the difference in the world. I keep trying to convince myself that this is normal, that I'm not making more out of this then I should be - loosing a parent is one of the hardest things anyone can go through - loosing my dad was even a little bit harder then most. It can be all consuming at times, all I can think about, all I can focus on - but those times aren't frequent, and I feel like I'm holding it together better then I thought I would. Last year I would have expected that when this would happen I'd run right back to the Heroin, right back to not giving two shits about anything but how and when I was going to get high.....but I haven't - and that is a big achievement in my mind, 1 thing I can be proud of myself for. I thought if anyone's death would just destroy me it would be this one (of course I'm not talking about if something happened to Brian, because that'd be an entirely different kind of loss, something too awful to even allow myself to think of) but it hasn't destroyed me...I'm stronger then I give myself credit for sometimes. And again, it's only been 3 months - in time I'm sure I'll be much better then I am today or have been. Thank God for those few people I consider friends though - there are 3 imparticular that have been almost like a glue for me, every time I feel like I'm popping open at the seams, they're able to glue me back together - even if they aren't even aware that that's what is occurring. Thank God for Brian, because the grief and depression associated with this loss would have been a lot more debilitating if I didn't have to fake it for him....especially right now, getting ready for our first Christmas without him - if it weren't for Brian I would love nothing more then to skip Christmas this year - but Brian is here, and Brian deserves to have the best holiday season yet - who knows if this is the last year or not I'll have that he believes in all the magic of Christmas, Santa, etc - I'm not going to miss out on that because I'm missing my father. And although my mom and I still fight a lot - and argue over just about anything we can - we've been there for each other. She was strongest when I was at my weakest - and visa versa. We're trying to hold each other up.
So there is my first real blog post in a really long time. It's length is ridiculous, and the time it took me to write all this is quite impressive, how it just all spilled out of me and into my fingers and onto this page. I hope I succeeded in what I was trying to do, and how I wanted to write this - leave comments and let me know if I still remember how to 'blog' LOL - I’m really going to make an effort to pick it back up, it's silly not to when it can bring me so much comfort. Every time I write a long, descriptive letter, blog, journal entry - I feel like a little weight comes off my shoulders, so the more I write the more weight is taken away.....who would pass that opportunity up?? But yeah, comment if you have the time, just so I know if anyone is still out there in cyber world reading this...I wish you all a very HAPPY, HEALTHY, AND MEMORABLE Holiday season. Much love XOXOXO *Krista*
For anyone who knows me now or did earlier in my life, for anyone who's read my blog or has known my family at any point during my lifetime, and for anyone who knows even just a little bit about me through the grapevine already knows that I've spent my entire life in fear of loosing my dad. I dwelled and dwelled on it so much as a child that I'm sure it was very unhealthy for my mental development and well being. It's always been the 'big fear' the phobia, the darkness that's hung over my head. My mom dealt with her husbands illness in the opposite way, pure denial - he had gone through so many bad phases and bounced back, that I honestly believe that she, at some point, was able to convince herself that she'd never loose him. I always thought my way of approaching the subject was healthier, that it meant I'd be more prepared when it finally did happen - that I was at least dealing with it...but now I truly believe that my mom actually was the one who had it right all these years. Almost every special occasion that I can remember was in part dampered down if not ruined because instead of focusing on how happy I was that Dad was still here, I was concentrating on the fact that that Christmas, or this birthday, or something like that would be his last - then I'd imagine how that would feel, and poof their went my special occasion. I don't say this lightly, but his illness defined me, I allowed it to - the fear I carried with me my entire life weighed on me in such unhealthy ways, it was more of an obsession then it was anything else. I made really big choices in my life, and later down the road those choices affected not only me but a husband and child. Moving away from home, more then maybe an hours drive was something I never considered because I had to be close incase something happened - there were jobs I turned down, opportunities I missed out on and like I said before it was all consuming and totally defined who I was and how I lived my life. I'm not talking about issues I had with drugs being caused by this, or using this as an excuse to why I turned out certain ways that I did.... and my Dad wanted me to succeed more then anything, he wanted to see me happy, healthy, in love and being loved more then he wished for anything else. He always knew what an impact his sickness had on me, and he hated it, blamed himself for me being sad or scared for such a big part of my life. I did though want to clarify that I'm talking about my entire life, choices I made when I was 15 or 16 (before I had even ever gotten drunk or smoked weed) I'm talking about the big picture, not just the section of my life that I've written about so much in this blog, the reasons for there even being a blog to speak of.
The point I'm trying to get at is that because I built loosing my dad up so much in my head, that instead of it preparing me for the day it happened it had almost the opposite effect....the only good thing I can say about how I managed that fear and my life with him, is that I didn't really take it for granted - there were times I'm sure - but the majority of the time our relationship was one in a million. And that is because I always had his illness in the back of my head so we had certain rules in my house growing up....we would never go to bed mad, even if it meant staying up and fighting far into the night we would, my head wasn't allowed to touch my pillow until whatever issue that was there had been resolved, at least enough to say "I love you" and we'll talk more about this in the morning. Every time I left the house I'd give my parents a kiss on the cheek and tell them I loved then, as they did me. At the end of every phone call there was an "I love You," my dad and I would write little notes to each other, every card we ever gave one another had been thought of and not bought quickly but instead we took the time to find the ones that were just perfect for us. I'm comforted by so many pictures, letters, cards, video's....and all those were saved knowing that one day they would be all I had. For petes sake I have his hospital bracelet from when he had that big operation in Pittsburg, I've got little cards from flowers he would get me if we had had a fight the night before and if he felt like he was wrong, I'd get flowers delivered to me with a note that just said "I'm sorry" or "I love you" I saved all those things through all those years. So although my fear of his death took away a lot of my innocence as a kid, and my piece of mind growing up - the way I handled it had it's good points too... the relationship that my father and I had was what it was due to that fear, due to his illness. I don’t know any other woman who shared the kind of Father/Daughter relationship that I had - he was home more then most other Dads because of his illness, so he played Mr. Mom often - I could talk to him about anything, and I mean anything! So although I was always scared of the big black monster that for me was life without him, it did have it's good points. And 10 years ago I thought that it would prevent me in full of having to deal with any type of guilt after he was gone, because I knew he was fully aware of how much I cared for him, how much he meant to me....I was basically a near perfect daughter for the majority of my life. Unfortunately when that changed, when I started rebelling, when I started making awful choices in my life, and when those choices hurt my father more then I could possibly describe I lost that guilt free attitude with him. And it's that guilt that is now giving me the hardest grieving time that I've ever had in the past. When my grandfather passed away there was no guilt - I had expressed to him how much I loved him, I had never disappointed him in the ways I later would have if he hadn't died when he did. I was lying next to him for Gods sake when he took his last breath....so while it devastated me more then I could have imagined...when I was coping with his death I didn't have that awful, all consuming guilt hanging over my head. When Ellis died there was a little guilt there, guilt for not being who he wanted me to be in his life, guilt for being so scared of his death that until those last months with him occurred I had tried pushing him away, thinking it'd hurt less if I were to lose him. But those last months did happen, and I was there for him in every way I could, I told him 10 times a day how much I loved him, how sorry I was that these were the cards he was dealt, how sorry I was for not being a better friend at times during his illness. But I was given a chance to make it right, and I took that chance and ran with it...and looking back I had done that a few times even prior to his last months - like when I organized and worked my ass off on that bone marrow drive I've mentioned at least once in this blog. So yeah there was 'some' guilt there after he died, some little things that kept popping up in my head when I was grieving for him....but for the most part I had peace - knowing that in the end I was a great friend to him, that he knew how much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him. That peace helped me more then anything else could have, with both my Papa and Ellis...but that isn't the case this time around.
My father and I loved one another unconditionally. We'd fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but usually only because we were so much alike, both stubborn and always ready for an argument. But the relationship him and I shared for the first 20 years of my life ended up changing in that last 8 years of his life. He lost respect for me in little pieces here and there for random things I had done or choices I had made. But on June 6th, 2009 I made a choice that would change our relationship in ways that were irreversible. When I was arrested, with his beautiful grandson in the car, when all light was shed on the life I had been living right under his nose without him knowing about it, and when he realized that he could no longer recognize me that was not a turning point for us, it was THE turning point for us. He never wanted perfection from me, his dreams for me weren't aimed at riches, fame, a Pulitzer prize, lol - he just wanted me to be an honest, respectable, loving person - a good mom, a good wife - he wanted for me to be able to be proud of myself - he wanted better for me then he had, etc....he told me one time that I could murder someone, and although he would turn me in (if he thought others were in danger from me) that he would love me no less then he had before, that he would always be in my corner, and that nothing at all could ever change that. He didn't bank on me hurting the one person who came closest to his heart as I did, Brian. So when that happened he told Jim point blank, as long as Brian gets home safe to them, he didn't care if I rotted in that jail cell. At that point he meant every word. The anger faded throughout the next few years - he saw how hard I was trying to right my wrongs - he acknowledged that I was a good mom despite my past actions - he wanted nothing more then to put it all behind us. I have no doubt that he was able to forgive me for my actions during those darkest years, but he didn't have the ability to forget them....and he lived his last years in constant fear that I would end up right back to that point again - that I'd screw up in another horrific way and I'd loose Brian...that fear which he carried made it impossible for us to ever again have that relationship we once had.
So there's where the guilt comes into play. It's a worthless emotion, I know - because I can't change the reasons I have that guilt - and now that he's gone I can't make up for it, or talk to him about it, or whatever I could try to make it right between us again. And after spending my entire life just wanting 1 more year...or him to live long enough to see this, or that...after being so grateful that he made it as long as he did....now part of me wishes I had lost him at 18 - because then I'd be at peace with who I was to him, how strong our relationship was. But of course I'm thrilled that he had 6 full years with Brian - and I wouldn't take that away from either of them just so I could selfishly deal with his death easier. It's just a double edged sword - because by definition I was one hell of a daughter to him until I wasn't - and it seemed to really happen that quickly and without warning.
Then of course both my mom and I have a certain level of guilt that he lived his last months in a nursing home and not here with us. We know in our heads that it was the best option for our whole family, especially my Dad ... but his depression and fear that he felt being over there is a hard pill for us to swallow. He adjusted in the last couple months, and agreed that we had made the right choice - but those first few months spent in the Nursing Home were harder on him then we ever could have seen coming. He said one day to me that he just couldn't believe that this was it, that after fighting for as long as he had, for doing everything he could to stick around for our family, that this was how it was ending....him alone in a bed in a nursing home, where people either go to get rehabilitation, or where they go to die - and he knew which he was there for. Me getting hurt in the beginning of his last summer doesn't help my level of guilt either. I know I didn't get hurt on purpose, and that I didn't have a choice in the matter - but it kept me away from him for 4 entire weeks while I was in the hospital and when I first made it home. It kept me from being able to visit him on a regular basis, to once a week if I was lucky. So missing out on all that time that I could have had with him, hadn't I been hurt, is something else that I'm having a hard time dealing with.
Don't get me wrong though, his last month or so was different. He had come to peace about staying at the nursing home for good...he was having a lot more good days then he had been having a few months prior. Brian, my mom and I were visiting often - Mom was even living there for rehab on her knee for a few weeks, which brought them closer together then they had been in a long time. I'm jealous of that, but so happy for my mom because any guilt she had was being cut down to a more bearable size - they had told each other that they had been lucky for that time because they fell in love with each other all over again....what a gift! The last conversation they had was the afternoon before he died....they last words they spoke to each other were (mom - "I love you Frankie" Dad - "I love you more sweetheart") It can't get much better then that. I didn't see him that day. I had gone to a Dr's appointment in Glens Falls with my grandmother, Brian and mom, and was pissed off when we got home because I wasn't healing as quickly as I was wanting, I was still in so much pain, and I had a attitude that afternoon...one that caused me to not want to deal with anyone, so when we got back to North Creek my mom dropped me and Brian off at the house, and she went to see my dad....I hadn't even called him that night - well I had tried but he didn't answer. So I can't tell you what our last words were to each other, I can't say that I had an amazing conversation with him that day - and I'm jealous of my mom for getting them both.
When the phone rang at 10:00 - 10:30 PM that night I knew right away it had something to do with Dad. Him being dead never entered my mind, but I thought maybe he was having a bad night, confused, scared - and they were calling to see if someone could come sit with him...or a nurse was letting us know that he was going to the hospital for whatever reason. But when I heard her voice, and when she asked specifically to speak with my mom it all changed. The volume on the phone was loud enough that I even heard her ask my mom if she was sitting down - I knew. My mom freaked out, she was in such shock because there hadn't been a warning, she screamed and cried - I just sat calmly and called my Aunt and Grandmother to ask one of them to come over and pick her up, she had to go to the nursing home to sign papers, and wait for the funeral home to pick him up. Brian was here that night so I wasn't going anywhere, and even if he hadn't been - I still would have stayed home.... I was numb, it wasn't real to me at all. So my Aunt and Zat (grandmother) rushed right over to the house to pick up my mom....I asked my mom to tell them not to come in because I didn't want to see anyone - because I didn't want the numbness to be gone yet. But my Aunt Sass did come in, and she sat next to me and hugged me, cried and told me how sorry she was....it was starting to sink in. Then after they left - I calmly started the phone calls, Jim, my sister Laura, my best friend Katy, and my best guy friend at the time Steve. Steve was amazing, before I had a chance to finish the sentence he had turned his truck around and was heading here to be with me. I know I ended up freaking him out a little bit though by the lack of emotion I was showing - I wasn't a puddle, I was like a robot one minute, then a little emotion would spill out until I caught myself and went back to being a robot.
I miss my father more then I could possibly explain. I'd give almost anything for 1 more movie night with him...1 more moment where I acted like a lap dog and would curl myself on top of his lap for a big hug....1 more argument even....1 more "I love you", just 1 more of anything. In the last 3 months since he died I've gone back and fourth between Robot and emotional basket case. There will be days upon days that I don't even tear up....then there will be a day, without any reason or warning where I can barely hold myself together. It's extra hard that he was such a Ghost to the majority of people well before his death. Even my mother's family had barely laid eyes on him for the last few years of his life. He wasn't able to go to the store anymore - my mom wasn't working at the Laundromat anymore so he didn't have there to go to socialize and get out of the house - he hadn't been well enough to go to family functions, etc. So other then for my Mom, myself, Brian, Jim, Zat and a few random people that would be at my house sporadically to visit - he was a Ghost. It's hard enough when it's all done, like the funeral, the people stopping over, the cards stop coming, people stop randomly calling to check it - that's when it starts to really hit you...but in my dads situation it wasn't just that typical stuff that was hard, knowing that his death would only truly affect a small handful of people was hard to accept. He was too good of a man for that, he was my everything, so it's hard to see that other people had felt like he was gone years before he actually died.
Sometime I just want to be alone, to not have anyone around me. But there are other times where I want to let go of holding it all inside, be around someone I'm comfortable enough with to cry, scream, whatever it is I feel I need to do at that time. Nights are the hardest of course - so that's usually when I frantically at times will reach out to the few good friends I have....and if it's at all possible beg them if I must to come over and hang out, just to watch a movie - just so I'm not sitting alone, scared, sad, missing my father. Quiet has become an enemy of mine, thinking has become what sets me off, and the guilt is what I dwell on. But when I get lucky, and happen to be having one of those awful nights, and can find a good friend to sit with me, just be here, it makes all the difference in the world. I keep trying to convince myself that this is normal, that I'm not making more out of this then I should be - loosing a parent is one of the hardest things anyone can go through - loosing my dad was even a little bit harder then most. It can be all consuming at times, all I can think about, all I can focus on - but those times aren't frequent, and I feel like I'm holding it together better then I thought I would. Last year I would have expected that when this would happen I'd run right back to the Heroin, right back to not giving two shits about anything but how and when I was going to get high.....but I haven't - and that is a big achievement in my mind, 1 thing I can be proud of myself for. I thought if anyone's death would just destroy me it would be this one (of course I'm not talking about if something happened to Brian, because that'd be an entirely different kind of loss, something too awful to even allow myself to think of) but it hasn't destroyed me...I'm stronger then I give myself credit for sometimes. And again, it's only been 3 months - in time I'm sure I'll be much better then I am today or have been. Thank God for those few people I consider friends though - there are 3 imparticular that have been almost like a glue for me, every time I feel like I'm popping open at the seams, they're able to glue me back together - even if they aren't even aware that that's what is occurring. Thank God for Brian, because the grief and depression associated with this loss would have been a lot more debilitating if I didn't have to fake it for him....especially right now, getting ready for our first Christmas without him - if it weren't for Brian I would love nothing more then to skip Christmas this year - but Brian is here, and Brian deserves to have the best holiday season yet - who knows if this is the last year or not I'll have that he believes in all the magic of Christmas, Santa, etc - I'm not going to miss out on that because I'm missing my father. And although my mom and I still fight a lot - and argue over just about anything we can - we've been there for each other. She was strongest when I was at my weakest - and visa versa. We're trying to hold each other up.
So there is my first real blog post in a really long time. It's length is ridiculous, and the time it took me to write all this is quite impressive, how it just all spilled out of me and into my fingers and onto this page. I hope I succeeded in what I was trying to do, and how I wanted to write this - leave comments and let me know if I still remember how to 'blog' LOL - I’m really going to make an effort to pick it back up, it's silly not to when it can bring me so much comfort. Every time I write a long, descriptive letter, blog, journal entry - I feel like a little weight comes off my shoulders, so the more I write the more weight is taken away.....who would pass that opportunity up?? But yeah, comment if you have the time, just so I know if anyone is still out there in cyber world reading this...I wish you all a very HAPPY, HEALTHY, AND MEMORABLE Holiday season. Much love XOXOXO *Krista*
Monday, December 5, 2011
Long time
Wow, I just was asked by one a friend how my blog was going....I told him I couldn't even remember the last time that I had written in it - and he told me in so many words that I should start back up because he always found my story moving and honest, which is quite a compliment. Writing has always been very theraputic for me, yet it seems like when things in my life have ever gotten too over emotional I clam up and have a hard time writing. So this will be an attempt, not promising that it'll add up to much of anything. I'm not going to try and fill people in on my entire life since I last wrote, I dont have that much time nor patience at the moment to even try to condense that much into a single post....but I will write about the most significant event that occurred, which if you know me at all, you know I'm talking about the death of my father on August 29th, 2011.
After 28 years of being ill and having so many close calls, my Dad finally lost his battle and passed away in his sleep at 10:30 PM on that Monday night in August. He had actually been doing quite well, we had no warning what so ever and although he had been sick for so long it was a huge shock to us when we got that awful phone call. I have to be grateful though because he didn't suffer that night - he fell asleep after a big meal and jokes with his nurses, a perfect last conversation and visit with my mom and died shortly thereafter from not being able to expell enough CO2.
The first week or so I was a complete puddle....then the numbness set in, which I thought was great. Now again it's hitting me like a ton of bricks. I just have so much guilt, so many things I wish I had done differently, so many 'should-a would-a could-a's.' He was the single most important man in my life (my son of course isn't a man yet) and I had been terrified of his death my entire life....God I was imagining what his funeral would be like when I layed in bed during my early childhood. It was always this big looming black monster that I built my life around, as pathetic as that sounds.
So now there's this huge gaping hole. The fact that it's Christmas time is of course making it all the more difficult. It's hard too because I feel as if my Dad was a Ghost to most people during his last years - he wasn't well enough to leave the house, he didn't have friends, no one came to visit - so it was just always us....so it's a really lonely feeling thinking that i'm one of only 2 or 3 other people who are feeling this tremendous loss.
See I can't even write - I attempted, I failed. I'm just turning myself into a blubbering mess and that's just pointless. "Grin and Bare it" right? It's a part of life, no one escapes it. I know everyone says this, and when I lost my grandfather, and then Ellis I said it then too - but what I would give for just one more conversation, hug, "i love you." And now I wish I could just turn it off and go back to that comfortable state of numbness I was living in soon after his death - but the longer it goes the more it sinks in and the more permenant I realize it is. Thank God I have a few very close friends who are there for me, those people really have helped me keep it together these last few months. For some reason the last couple nights have just been extra rough....I have to remember though it's only been 3 months - which in all reality isn't that long when it comes to the whole grieving process. And there are good things in my life right now - wonderful things - I'm not trying to be all doom and gloom. It's just a shitty night, some are shittier then others and for right now this is right up there with the worst of em - but one thing that is pretty amazing about life, no matter how good or bad things are - they change, and one day I can feel like I do right now, and tomorrow I could be in the most peaceful place imaginable....it just is what it is.
But right now I'm just tired, and forcing myself to write isn't what this should be, just stating facts and rambling to try and fill a page was never the point of this blog....so I'll just stop here. Hopefully in the near future I'll be in a better place and will be able to really write about things, not just explain details, if that makes sense. So Im going to go get my beautiful little boy fed, bathed and ready for bed....I hope anyone who reads this can find themselves in a wonderful place, ready for the holidays and you are content with your life right now! I'm going to turn the faucet off and go spend the two hours with Brian before he's in bed, and pray that I'm able to sleep tonight - I will complain and whine about one more thing...nights! I won't even attempt to go to bed until I'm to the point of such exhaustion that i know I will pass right out - too many things run through my mind if I try and lie in bed waiting to sleep. Thank you to my friends and family who have listened and not told me to shut up these last few months - who have been here for me and my mom as much as possible. I dont know where I'd be without those 'good ole folks' lol :-) If you've made it this far in reading this blog I give you lots of credit, I dont know if I could handle reading someone go on and on about this kind of subject matter. Next time I write I'll try and do it in the daytime - nothing for me is as sad or scary in the day as they are at night. XOXOXO
After 28 years of being ill and having so many close calls, my Dad finally lost his battle and passed away in his sleep at 10:30 PM on that Monday night in August. He had actually been doing quite well, we had no warning what so ever and although he had been sick for so long it was a huge shock to us when we got that awful phone call. I have to be grateful though because he didn't suffer that night - he fell asleep after a big meal and jokes with his nurses, a perfect last conversation and visit with my mom and died shortly thereafter from not being able to expell enough CO2.
The first week or so I was a complete puddle....then the numbness set in, which I thought was great. Now again it's hitting me like a ton of bricks. I just have so much guilt, so many things I wish I had done differently, so many 'should-a would-a could-a's.' He was the single most important man in my life (my son of course isn't a man yet) and I had been terrified of his death my entire life....God I was imagining what his funeral would be like when I layed in bed during my early childhood. It was always this big looming black monster that I built my life around, as pathetic as that sounds.
So now there's this huge gaping hole. The fact that it's Christmas time is of course making it all the more difficult. It's hard too because I feel as if my Dad was a Ghost to most people during his last years - he wasn't well enough to leave the house, he didn't have friends, no one came to visit - so it was just always us....so it's a really lonely feeling thinking that i'm one of only 2 or 3 other people who are feeling this tremendous loss.
See I can't even write - I attempted, I failed. I'm just turning myself into a blubbering mess and that's just pointless. "Grin and Bare it" right? It's a part of life, no one escapes it. I know everyone says this, and when I lost my grandfather, and then Ellis I said it then too - but what I would give for just one more conversation, hug, "i love you." And now I wish I could just turn it off and go back to that comfortable state of numbness I was living in soon after his death - but the longer it goes the more it sinks in and the more permenant I realize it is. Thank God I have a few very close friends who are there for me, those people really have helped me keep it together these last few months. For some reason the last couple nights have just been extra rough....I have to remember though it's only been 3 months - which in all reality isn't that long when it comes to the whole grieving process. And there are good things in my life right now - wonderful things - I'm not trying to be all doom and gloom. It's just a shitty night, some are shittier then others and for right now this is right up there with the worst of em - but one thing that is pretty amazing about life, no matter how good or bad things are - they change, and one day I can feel like I do right now, and tomorrow I could be in the most peaceful place imaginable....it just is what it is.
But right now I'm just tired, and forcing myself to write isn't what this should be, just stating facts and rambling to try and fill a page was never the point of this blog....so I'll just stop here. Hopefully in the near future I'll be in a better place and will be able to really write about things, not just explain details, if that makes sense. So Im going to go get my beautiful little boy fed, bathed and ready for bed....I hope anyone who reads this can find themselves in a wonderful place, ready for the holidays and you are content with your life right now! I'm going to turn the faucet off and go spend the two hours with Brian before he's in bed, and pray that I'm able to sleep tonight - I will complain and whine about one more thing...nights! I won't even attempt to go to bed until I'm to the point of such exhaustion that i know I will pass right out - too many things run through my mind if I try and lie in bed waiting to sleep. Thank you to my friends and family who have listened and not told me to shut up these last few months - who have been here for me and my mom as much as possible. I dont know where I'd be without those 'good ole folks' lol :-) If you've made it this far in reading this blog I give you lots of credit, I dont know if I could handle reading someone go on and on about this kind of subject matter. Next time I write I'll try and do it in the daytime - nothing for me is as sad or scary in the day as they are at night. XOXOXO
Saturday, July 2, 2011
6 months!
I'm so disappointed with myself, SIX months since I've written my last blog entry. The main reason I wanted to write daily was so when I did write I didn't have to spend hours filling people in on what's been occurring - there goes that grand idea, huh? There is just so much that's happened in the last 6 months, that I know without a doubt that it'd be impossible to sit here that long and try to cover it all. So I'm going to make a list of a few of the main things that have 'gone down' and then I'm just going to write about the last few weeks I've had, best plan I could come up with :-)
-Dad came down with double pneumonia. As a family we've always been so scared of pneumonia, that's been like the big scary sickness my dad's done everything to avoid since I can remember. Anyone who lives in or has lived in this household for any period of time has gotten their yearly flu shots, if someone was sick with any type of bad cold or had a fever they weren't allowed in, my dad wouldn't share drinks with any of us if we had the slightest cold, etc. So the fact that he had double pneumonia, was just scary icing on the cake. Yet, after some time in the hospital and lots of IV antibiotics, he beat it...and it was a severe case also which made it even more impressive. When he was discharged from the hospital he went into the nursing home, for good this time. It's been super difficult because he hates it there and wants so badly to come home...if he could just accept it and stop thinking there was a way for him to come home, then I believe it would be easier on us all. It doesn't help though that his current roommate is deaf, dumb and blind and is in pain so he moans all the time. Poor man. But it's so hard for my dad to be there anyhow, but to have to deal with such a sad and depressing situation right in his room doesn't help. See and my dad still is 100% mentally coherent, and with it...and many of the other patients over there just aren't, many people with dementia of all kinds, and for someone who is mentally as sharp as a tack, it's scary, depressing and can make you feel very alone. I could go on for a really long time about this scenario, how we made this decision, how we've all been dealing with it, why he's in there permanently, etc etc etc - but like I said I really don't want to just write about past events to catch everyone up, because my recent event is long enough of a story to try and explain.
Just by looking at how long that one explanation became, I changed my mind and will try to catch everyone up in another blog post...because I can't sit at my computer desk for very long periods of time and I'd never make it if I wrote what I had intended on writing. "Krista, why can't you sit at your computer desk for any long length of time?" Computer, I'm so glad you asked, because I was just getting to that, lol - yeah I'm pathetic, haha.
On June 4th I was walking down my porch steps and slipped and fell. It didn't hurt that badly, I got a small scratch on the top of my foot, twisted my ankle a bit, but nothing sever to say the least. I didn't even need a band aid on my foot, it wasn't even bleeding - just a little scrape. The next morning I noticed that my left foot was swollen up quite a lot, but just figured it was due to the fact that I had twisted my ankle and assumed it was sprained. By that night though it began hurting really badly and I could barely walk on it. The next 2 days it just got worse, swelled more, hurt terribly, and I couldn't even put an ounce of weight on it. On the 2nd night I called my Aunt Sass after realizing my temp was 104 and asked her if the next morning she could bring me down to the ER...which of course she agreed to.
As soon as I hobbled into triage I knew things were much worse then I had expected. The nurse looked at my foot and had me sent within 2 minutes into the ER. Then when doctors started flocking around me I knew things were a lot more serious then I had expected. I started hearing words like "septic, emergency surgery, cellulites, MRSA, fever, etc." They then gave me a big ole shot of fentynal which got me pretty fuzzy and I don't remember too much after that.
An amazing Doctor who is head of the vascular unit at GFH was my surgeon and I felt very comfortable with him right off the bat, thank God! So the next time I really started sobering up was up in the ICU, with my first IV's, and a heart monitor, and all sorts of tubes and machines. I found out that in my surgery the Doctor had to remove 3 big holes from the top of my foot, in hopes that the infection would drain through those and not cause more damage. I was on two super heavy duty antibiotics through my IV's, and it turns out that my specific strain of infection was a Strep. The main three that are like what I had are Staph, MRSA, and Strep. The Dr. told me that the little scratch on my foot was the reason behind it, and assured me that I'd be ok and that everyone would be keeping a close eye on me.
The next day when the surgeon came in to change my bandaging all hell broke loose in my room. First off I had a mild panic attack when I looked at the three huge holes in my foot...and the pain was so intense that I came close to passing out. Then he told me that we were most likely going to have to operate again because there were new black area's of my skin, which means dying tissue. Yeah isn't that nice, I had a flesh eating disease, ick. Then he noticed that my left leg was bright red and hot too the touch - meaning the infection had traveled upwards. He quickly scheduled my second surgery for the following day, and drew some lines on my leg so he'd be able to tell if the red area's were higher or lower the next time he saw me. I was warned though that if black area's showed up on my leg then an amputation might be my only option.
So of course I was scared out of my mind, my family was in and out of the hospital visiting, and they were all scared to death...it was just a nightmare. The second surgery sucked! I woke up very quickly after being wheeled out of the OR, and when I did, the pain was so unbearable that I had never experienced anything close to it, yes even in childbirth. When I got back to my room my grandmother, and mom were in there and my crying only got worse and the pain wasn't getting any better. Luckily the nurses ended up rushing in and giving me more pain meds through my IV and it was just enough to bring it down to a humane level. I was still in the ICU at this point, had barely slept a wink because of pain and fear, and was missing Brian like crazy.
The next morning my surgeon came in to look at his handwork. First though he looked at my leg, and finally I was cut a break and the redness had started to lighten up and move down! So for the time being I was keeping my leg, which made things so much less terrifying. Then he took off my bandage and the panic attack I had after the first surgery was nothing compared to the freak out I had this time. I wish I had a picture of what it looked like on that first day, but I do have a picture from a week later...lucky you all, I'll show you - it's already been on facebook so most of you have se
en it.
I spent another 5 or 6 days in the ICU, which is the way to go if your in a hospital! The nurses only have like 2 patients at a time, so you get tons of great and quick care, private room, and just a few other nice perks that aren't available in other parts of the hospital. After that time I was transferred down to the surgical floor and stayed there about another week. Totaling my hospital stay at 16 days.
To sum this up quickly because my foot's starting to hurt - if it's not elevated it does that. I am now home. I have to go to the wound center once a week to see my surgeon, and I have a private nurse come into the house once a day to change my bandages. I'm now off antibiotics, which makes me a little nervous since I have a huge open wound, but ah well. I've got about 3 or more operations to look forward too. Skin grafts, harvesting healthy tissue from my hip, and whatever else they need to do. Once I start feeling better I'll start physical therapy, ect. No question that my summer will be spent with my foot up in bed, unable to work or anything, after that I can't even guess what the time period will look like, neither can the doctors. I'm keeping a good attitude though, grateful that this wasn't all much much worse. I'm figuring out how to still do fun stuff with Brian, inside and out. It is what it is though and all I can do is make the best of it, because like I said, it's going to be a long recovery.
I'll definitely write again soon to get my blog caught up. If I was crazy with details in the beginning and then just raced through things in the end that's just because my foot started throbbing so I wanted to wrap things up quickley. Hope you are all well....lots of love.
-Dad came down with double pneumonia. As a family we've always been so scared of pneumonia, that's been like the big scary sickness my dad's done everything to avoid since I can remember. Anyone who lives in or has lived in this household for any period of time has gotten their yearly flu shots, if someone was sick with any type of bad cold or had a fever they weren't allowed in, my dad wouldn't share drinks with any of us if we had the slightest cold, etc. So the fact that he had double pneumonia, was just scary icing on the cake. Yet, after some time in the hospital and lots of IV antibiotics, he beat it...and it was a severe case also which made it even more impressive. When he was discharged from the hospital he went into the nursing home, for good this time. It's been super difficult because he hates it there and wants so badly to come home...if he could just accept it and stop thinking there was a way for him to come home, then I believe it would be easier on us all. It doesn't help though that his current roommate is deaf, dumb and blind and is in pain so he moans all the time. Poor man. But it's so hard for my dad to be there anyhow, but to have to deal with such a sad and depressing situation right in his room doesn't help. See and my dad still is 100% mentally coherent, and with it...and many of the other patients over there just aren't, many people with dementia of all kinds, and for someone who is mentally as sharp as a tack, it's scary, depressing and can make you feel very alone. I could go on for a really long time about this scenario, how we made this decision, how we've all been dealing with it, why he's in there permanently, etc etc etc - but like I said I really don't want to just write about past events to catch everyone up, because my recent event is long enough of a story to try and explain.
Just by looking at how long that one explanation became, I changed my mind and will try to catch everyone up in another blog post...because I can't sit at my computer desk for very long periods of time and I'd never make it if I wrote what I had intended on writing. "Krista, why can't you sit at your computer desk for any long length of time?" Computer, I'm so glad you asked, because I was just getting to that, lol - yeah I'm pathetic, haha.
On June 4th I was walking down my porch steps and slipped and fell. It didn't hurt that badly, I got a small scratch on the top of my foot, twisted my ankle a bit, but nothing sever to say the least. I didn't even need a band aid on my foot, it wasn't even bleeding - just a little scrape. The next morning I noticed that my left foot was swollen up quite a lot, but just figured it was due to the fact that I had twisted my ankle and assumed it was sprained. By that night though it began hurting really badly and I could barely walk on it. The next 2 days it just got worse, swelled more, hurt terribly, and I couldn't even put an ounce of weight on it. On the 2nd night I called my Aunt Sass after realizing my temp was 104 and asked her if the next morning she could bring me down to the ER...which of course she agreed to.
As soon as I hobbled into triage I knew things were much worse then I had expected. The nurse looked at my foot and had me sent within 2 minutes into the ER. Then when doctors started flocking around me I knew things were a lot more serious then I had expected. I started hearing words like "septic, emergency surgery, cellulites, MRSA, fever, etc." They then gave me a big ole shot of fentynal which got me pretty fuzzy and I don't remember too much after that.
An amazing Doctor who is head of the vascular unit at GFH was my surgeon and I felt very comfortable with him right off the bat, thank God! So the next time I really started sobering up was up in the ICU, with my first IV's, and a heart monitor, and all sorts of tubes and machines. I found out that in my surgery the Doctor had to remove 3 big holes from the top of my foot, in hopes that the infection would drain through those and not cause more damage. I was on two super heavy duty antibiotics through my IV's, and it turns out that my specific strain of infection was a Strep. The main three that are like what I had are Staph, MRSA, and Strep. The Dr. told me that the little scratch on my foot was the reason behind it, and assured me that I'd be ok and that everyone would be keeping a close eye on me.
The next day when the surgeon came in to change my bandaging all hell broke loose in my room. First off I had a mild panic attack when I looked at the three huge holes in my foot...and the pain was so intense that I came close to passing out. Then he told me that we were most likely going to have to operate again because there were new black area's of my skin, which means dying tissue. Yeah isn't that nice, I had a flesh eating disease, ick. Then he noticed that my left leg was bright red and hot too the touch - meaning the infection had traveled upwards. He quickly scheduled my second surgery for the following day, and drew some lines on my leg so he'd be able to tell if the red area's were higher or lower the next time he saw me. I was warned though that if black area's showed up on my leg then an amputation might be my only option.
So of course I was scared out of my mind, my family was in and out of the hospital visiting, and they were all scared to death...it was just a nightmare. The second surgery sucked! I woke up very quickly after being wheeled out of the OR, and when I did, the pain was so unbearable that I had never experienced anything close to it, yes even in childbirth. When I got back to my room my grandmother, and mom were in there and my crying only got worse and the pain wasn't getting any better. Luckily the nurses ended up rushing in and giving me more pain meds through my IV and it was just enough to bring it down to a humane level. I was still in the ICU at this point, had barely slept a wink because of pain and fear, and was missing Brian like crazy.
The next morning my surgeon came in to look at his handwork. First though he looked at my leg, and finally I was cut a break and the redness had started to lighten up and move down! So for the time being I was keeping my leg, which made things so much less terrifying. Then he took off my bandage and the panic attack I had after the first surgery was nothing compared to the freak out I had this time. I wish I had a picture of what it looked like on that first day, but I do have a picture from a week later...lucky you all, I'll show you - it's already been on facebook so most of you have se
en it.
I spent another 5 or 6 days in the ICU, which is the way to go if your in a hospital! The nurses only have like 2 patients at a time, so you get tons of great and quick care, private room, and just a few other nice perks that aren't available in other parts of the hospital. After that time I was transferred down to the surgical floor and stayed there about another week. Totaling my hospital stay at 16 days.
To sum this up quickly because my foot's starting to hurt - if it's not elevated it does that. I am now home. I have to go to the wound center once a week to see my surgeon, and I have a private nurse come into the house once a day to change my bandages. I'm now off antibiotics, which makes me a little nervous since I have a huge open wound, but ah well. I've got about 3 or more operations to look forward too. Skin grafts, harvesting healthy tissue from my hip, and whatever else they need to do. Once I start feeling better I'll start physical therapy, ect. No question that my summer will be spent with my foot up in bed, unable to work or anything, after that I can't even guess what the time period will look like, neither can the doctors. I'm keeping a good attitude though, grateful that this wasn't all much much worse. I'm figuring out how to still do fun stuff with Brian, inside and out. It is what it is though and all I can do is make the best of it, because like I said, it's going to be a long recovery.
I'll definitely write again soon to get my blog caught up. If I was crazy with details in the beginning and then just raced through things in the end that's just because my foot started throbbing so I wanted to wrap things up quickley. Hope you are all well....lots of love.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Rugrats
Well I'm sitting at the computer desk while Brian is watching some Rugrat movie on Netflix through his Wii and thought I'd briefly blog, again trying to get myself back into the habit.
Today was a nice, average day...Brian got home at 7AM, we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie, had some pancakes, played in the snow, shoveled, had some dinner, played some games and now it's almost bedtime. I dare say that it was a perfectly contented average day, and I like those! I feel like I'm currently waiting for the 'other shoe to drop...' and it's not even like things are going so perfectly in my life as it is, but I'm reaching certain levels of comfort and that never seems to last long, so Im a little wearie of it. I've accepted the 4 day a week mom role, for now anyways, and I'm beginning to enjoy my 3 nights I have weekly to myself, to what I want to do....and yes for the record, I feel guilty that I've come to that, and gotten used to it - but I have. Hopefully I can chop it up to growth, allowing change, attapting to undesirable situations that I can't control, etc....hopefully it's not my true selfish nature coming through to the surface.
As much as I feel like I'm on a roll right now and could really dive into some long winded post with tid bits of sanity - Brian is begging for me to play 1 game of Mario Cart with him before he goes off to bed...and quite frankly I'm not very good at saying no to him, he's too damn cute for my own good, LOL. I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend, take care!
Today was a nice, average day...Brian got home at 7AM, we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie, had some pancakes, played in the snow, shoveled, had some dinner, played some games and now it's almost bedtime. I dare say that it was a perfectly contented average day, and I like those! I feel like I'm currently waiting for the 'other shoe to drop...' and it's not even like things are going so perfectly in my life as it is, but I'm reaching certain levels of comfort and that never seems to last long, so Im a little wearie of it. I've accepted the 4 day a week mom role, for now anyways, and I'm beginning to enjoy my 3 nights I have weekly to myself, to what I want to do....and yes for the record, I feel guilty that I've come to that, and gotten used to it - but I have. Hopefully I can chop it up to growth, allowing change, attapting to undesirable situations that I can't control, etc....hopefully it's not my true selfish nature coming through to the surface.
As much as I feel like I'm on a roll right now and could really dive into some long winded post with tid bits of sanity - Brian is begging for me to play 1 game of Mario Cart with him before he goes off to bed...and quite frankly I'm not very good at saying no to him, he's too damn cute for my own good, LOL. I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend, take care!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
1/1/11
Well it's a whole New Year - and since I was probably 13 I always had a little extra smidge of hope on New Years...thinking of it as a clean slate, fresh start. It's pretty stupid to really think that way because it is just another day, things are never any different on 1/1 as they were on 12/31 - but even so there is always that flicker of chance that things will drastically change overnight....again it's dumb to think that way, but like most people I can't help myself.
Strangely enough, I haven't been crazy miserable as of late - I'll even go as far as to say that I've almost been on a level of contentment. I'm not saying there isn't still plenty that needs to change, plenty of ways I can improve my life, endless options of ways I can do so, and there still are tons of things that need to be 'tweaked.' BUT all and all things have been pretty decent lately and I'm not taking that for granted. I've always said that all I ever wanted was to be content, yeah fame and fortune would be great, but I'll be 100% satisfied to just reach a level of existence that is bearable; content on certain levels.
I'm getting used to the way things are now - that Brian is here when he is, and not when he's not....that Jim isn't my husband anymore, even if legally he is....that it'll continue to be an uphill battle for a long time to come....I'm no longer looking so hard for that instant gratification that would change things in a second - I'm grown up enough now to realize that things don't work that way and that the only person to change my life will and always has been me. That doesn't freak me out anymore, which is a big step for me - knowing that someone or something won't just swoop down and fix it all, really understanding that it's up to me........again for anyone who really knows me, knows that just me realizing something so simple once and for all is pretty big.
I still need to find a more reliable job, I have no desire to wake up at 40 and still be waiting tables. I still very much need to be on my own and not living at my parents house with my son at 27 years old. I still need to do a lot of work on myself. But if I look at where I was last year on this day, I see a big improvement, and I dont even need to bring up where I was 2 or 3 years ago at this time....so although I'm not where I want to be yet, I sure aren't where I was and there is something to be said for that also. This was my first Christmas without being a family in a long time - no Jim - no Brian on Christmas Eve - this time last year was when we were officially splitting up once and for all...and the months that followed were rough and I was a pretty big mess. The point is that I'm just happy to not be there anymore, and where I am isn't so horrible. So just starting a new year realizing that and not wishing for crazy unrealistic things sounds good to me.
For now I'm gonna go drink as much coffee as my stomach can hold, hang out with Bri a little, and get ready for work tonight. This wasn't the most insightful or entertaining blog I've ever had, but I thought I should at least check in quick because I haven't written since November. I hope everyone had a great holiday season, and I'm sure everyone is midly relieved at least that it's over :-) Happy 2011 everyone, lets make it a good year!
Strangely enough, I haven't been crazy miserable as of late - I'll even go as far as to say that I've almost been on a level of contentment. I'm not saying there isn't still plenty that needs to change, plenty of ways I can improve my life, endless options of ways I can do so, and there still are tons of things that need to be 'tweaked.' BUT all and all things have been pretty decent lately and I'm not taking that for granted. I've always said that all I ever wanted was to be content, yeah fame and fortune would be great, but I'll be 100% satisfied to just reach a level of existence that is bearable; content on certain levels.
I'm getting used to the way things are now - that Brian is here when he is, and not when he's not....that Jim isn't my husband anymore, even if legally he is....that it'll continue to be an uphill battle for a long time to come....I'm no longer looking so hard for that instant gratification that would change things in a second - I'm grown up enough now to realize that things don't work that way and that the only person to change my life will and always has been me. That doesn't freak me out anymore, which is a big step for me - knowing that someone or something won't just swoop down and fix it all, really understanding that it's up to me........again for anyone who really knows me, knows that just me realizing something so simple once and for all is pretty big.
I still need to find a more reliable job, I have no desire to wake up at 40 and still be waiting tables. I still very much need to be on my own and not living at my parents house with my son at 27 years old. I still need to do a lot of work on myself. But if I look at where I was last year on this day, I see a big improvement, and I dont even need to bring up where I was 2 or 3 years ago at this time....so although I'm not where I want to be yet, I sure aren't where I was and there is something to be said for that also. This was my first Christmas without being a family in a long time - no Jim - no Brian on Christmas Eve - this time last year was when we were officially splitting up once and for all...and the months that followed were rough and I was a pretty big mess. The point is that I'm just happy to not be there anymore, and where I am isn't so horrible. So just starting a new year realizing that and not wishing for crazy unrealistic things sounds good to me.
For now I'm gonna go drink as much coffee as my stomach can hold, hang out with Bri a little, and get ready for work tonight. This wasn't the most insightful or entertaining blog I've ever had, but I thought I should at least check in quick because I haven't written since November. I hope everyone had a great holiday season, and I'm sure everyone is midly relieved at least that it's over :-) Happy 2011 everyone, lets make it a good year!
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