Keeping Up With Bullets (Bang)

You may or may not have noticed my lack of posting. This whole burying my dad thing has my head spinning. Kinda sorta literally. And my migraines are through the roof. And I am back to wanting to use the "F" word all of the time. I'm not. But I want to. Really really bad. And I think I am going to use the bullet post format because my head is all over the place and that way I don't have to make any sense. And that is going to be important I think.

• So, yesterday at the pharmacy when I went to pick up my Rxs, I turned the corner, and I ran smack into the card section. It was all Father's Day cards. I couldn't help it. I stopped cold and stared at them for a few seconds and then kept on walking. I teared up, but didn't cry. I consider this progress.
• I am crying now. So maybe not so much.
• My migraines have been kickass ever since my dad died. I really think I might rip my head off of my shoulders with my bare hands. Has this ever been done?
• The day of the funeral I caved and took hydrocodone. My head was KILLING ME. It didn't touch it. I mean not at all.
• The worst part was that I had to act like I felt fine. Meet and greet and thank people for coming. Several of dad's high school classmates came. That was very cool.
• Last night at karaoke several of the people from my mom's church said something first thing about my dad and how sorry they were. So, I know that the word was out about what happened. Mom missed church two Sundays in a row because of being in Ohio for the funeral.
• However, this one guy came in and was talking to her about having to put his cat down last night and how sad it was. She was sitting next to me and he kept going on about it. Then he pulled out his camera phone and showed pictures of the cat to both of us. All the while, my mom had to keep saying how sorry she was about his cat. However, he said not one word about how sorry he was that my father just died.
• My sister-in-law says that I think everything is all about me. I say this now because this story is possibly one more example that might be true.
• Am I one of those people who thinks that everything is all about them?
• For the record, I do feel sorry for this guy over the loss of his cat. I know that losing a pet is painful. I would have been somewhat more sensitive to it had he shown any sensitivity to me over the loss over losing my parent. Just sayin'.
• You might be wondering how I know my sister-in-law thinks the above. She told me at the gathering after the funeral. I'd had a couple of beers. You know, I was mixing it with my hydrocodone to try and get some relief for my miserable migraine. Anyway, she was talking with someone that I had been talking with earlier and I walked up and I thought they were talking about the same thing we were talking about before.
• I was wrong. And that something was related to me.
• And she informed me that not everything is about me, contrary to what I believe.
• At which point, I decided to be Ellie from Cougar Town. You can consult previous clips I have posted to get a better grip on the Ellie personality.
• In this case, I placed my elbow on the table with my back to her facing the other person and resumed conversation with HIM, totally ignoring her. I figure two people can be rude just as easily as one.
• She then says, "So when are you and your mom going back to Georgia?"
• I then step back from the table and say, "Okay, I'm back in." As in, if we are talking about me, I am once again interested.
• I don't recall if I answered the question or not because it was unimportant.
• I really think my life would be a sitcom if I lived anywhere near my brother and sister-in-law. Or a tragedy. Not sure which.
• I gave the minister who did the service for my dad the letters that I posted here. I also ended up telling him (in brief) about my Big Idea. After the service he leaned over and hugged me and told me I was blessed by God.
• On the one hand it kind of freaked me out. But then again, I got the idea from a voice that I think was God. That would probably freak him out. So, maybe being told by a minister that you are blessed by God is really fantastic.
• For the record, I did ask him about it (because of my degree of being freaked out) and he said that after listening to my idea he prayed about it. And he knew I was blessed by God.
• Take from that what you will.
• I didn't tell my sister-in-law about that. I already think everything is all about me. That would have sent her to to the freaking moon.
• Maybe I should change the name of my blog. What do you think? I could call it IT REALLY IS ALL ABOUT ME. Seriously, I do need to change it. There has been nothing daily about the dose.
• Did I tell you that when my dad died all of the lines went out of his face? He died at 78 and had not even one wrinkle. Complete peace.
• One last thing about my sister-in-law: I have decided that she doesn't particularly dislike me. She just has a lot on her plate and it is overflowing. Her filter is gone. Her mom's cancer is back and she is now in the same situation as my dad. Her own dad is very difficult to live with and makes her life hard. That will get worse now that her mom's cancer is back. Her mother is the only thing anchoring her dad to reality. So, pray for her. A person can only handle so much stress and this has already been a terrible year. It is only going to get worse.

Blindsided.

I knew someone who used to talk about rollercoasters in terms of stress. When it is really bad it is sort of like this: you are stuck in a rollercoaster park. All of the coasters are unlabeled. You must choose one. So, you get the stress of the choosing, the stress while you wait in line, and then the stress during the ride, and then you get to do it all again. Of course, everyone likes and dislikes different coasters. Give me the smooth ones with lots of up and down and tight curves. The wooden coasters and the ones that go upside down are the ones that alternately make me feel like I need a chiropractic readjustment or just downright sick to my stomach.

Yeah, this post is about my dad. I spoke to him just about a week ago and he was doing well. In fact, he was doing about the same as when he was initially diagnosed. He was still getting up daily and his pain meds hadn't increased at all. In other words, his routine was pretty much the same as right after his initial diagnosis. On Thursday of this past week all of that changed. Bam. No longer did he feel capable of getting out of bed, and he isn't able to eat or drink much of anything. That has affected his ability to speak. His need for pain meds also changed. He went from doing very well to looking like he has a life expectancy of about two weeks.

There are no words to truly express how shocked I am. He was using an alternative treatment that I think might have worked had he found it six months to a year ago. However, I was beginning to hope that it was going to work ~ even now ~ since he wasn't getting worse. You see, I was beginning to disbelieve the original diagnosis. I thought my dad was going to be the person to beat stage 4 cancer.

And then today arrived. My brother called and told me how bad it was and that my dad was not going to beat stage 4 cancer. My dad possibly would not live to see the month of June. Wow.

Hope is the best and the worst thing in the world.

I had to go lie down because it gave me in instant migraine. I know I jumped right in line for the roller coaster. I remember the people in my dream, but I don't know any of them. I just remember my parting shot at all of them being, before I woke up, "I don't have time for your crap and your drama. My dad is dying of cancer." I was literally crying when I came out of that sleep.

I pondered the what to do for a while. Talking on the phone is never good. He can't understand me and now it hurts him to talk. I considered going back up there, but I don't want to remember him like this. That decision was reinforced when I did talk to him today. It greatly upset him when I cried on the phone. He wants me to be okay with his dying. And I will be... eventually. But, I am not sure that it will be in less than a month. I don't want to make his passing worse. This cannot be all about me.

So, I suggested to my brother that I write my dad an email every day and he read it to him. I have decided that it is unimportant if dad remembers our history or not. I remember it. I want him to feel the love in it. And if it jogs his memory, that is wonderful. If it doesn't, than I will be remembering for both of us. It is the last gift I can give him before he goes.

I am thinking that I will post them here. You can read them or not. I will call them Letters To Dad and then give them a subtitle. If that is your thing, read away. If not, come back when it is over. Either way, I understand.

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