Hello - again.

It’s been a long time since I posted here. I’ve had reason to, but just haven’t. However, now things really feel like, for me at least, something a lot like the title of this blog (didya know that the work “blog” is being flagged by my spell-checker? How old IS this ‘puter, anyway?). I won’t go through the litany of issues in this post, but I expect that some of them will be addressed in future posts.

No, the reason for this post is that I have had a lot of “windshield time” this week (euphemism for “I’m traveling a lot by car for my job” and otherwise). Windshield time for me means one of two things – listening to some sort of audio CD book or thinking about things, in general. I’ve had reason to do both this week, at some length.

Among other things, I am worried about/preparing for the death of my Mom and trying to figure out how to best help my Dad with his advancing Alzheimer’s/dementia.

First Mom - a few months back, she was having some problems with her digestive system. During the course of diagnosing what was going on, a number of active malignancies were found. The nature of what was found, and the numbers of sites, led to the diagnosis of stage IV cancer. No operations, no other possible treatments than perhaps chemotherapy which would do little more than extend her life from 6 months to 2 years.

The chemo hasn’t helped. In fact, at least one more active site developed in the six weeks of treatment, with lots of other “seed” sites being diagnosed as well. Based on this, 3-4 months’ life expectancy has been predicted. She’s feeling somewhat better now that she’s off chemo (in terms of side effects), but she was hospitalized with complications of congestive heart failure over the weekend for a day to reduce swelling and other side effects. She’s out and sassier than ever, at present.

Given that outlook, we are trying to figure out what is in Dad’s best interests. He is advanced enough that short-term memory is intermittent, and trying to go more than a day or two without Mom’s help or some other sort of assistance is a concern. He can keep track of taking his meds – provided they are prepared as Mom does and reminded to take them at times. Living alone is looking unlikely, although another option exists which we need to explore.

The rub here is that my brother and I live 400 (or more) miles away, and in different directions and different states. Due to other considerations, moving Dad to my neck of the woods (if keeping him at home is not possible) is becoming choice #1. Dad’s first choice is to go into a VA center with suitable treatment options, as this would likely put him in contact with guys who served during his era of Army service, and therefore they would be able to share “war stories” from a time in his life he still remembers well. The federal VA does not offer this option – just state hospitals. Since there is typically a residency requirement of at least a year, bringing him to my current state of residence and placing him in a VA facility is not possible – at least in the short term.

I am debating moving him to a local facility that is really pretty good, getting him placed and establish residency, and looking to move him to a VA hospital after a year has elapsed. IDK – this issue needs lots of thought.

Back to Mom’s situation and, in reality, what it’s doing to me (because everything does, IN FACT, revolve around ME – said with tongue firmly planted in cheek). I will be traveling to my folk’s house tomorrow, and will attempt to help out in any way possible. We will at least do a bunch of shopping (grocery primary among them), perhaps do a little cleaning and laundry, and very likely spend one day gambling with Mom. (Her one vice is to go and spend time plunking money into the old one-armed bandits for the day – something which she gets a lot of enjoyment out of and for which, at this point, I cannot deny her).

So that, in severely shortened Reader’s Digest version, gives some insight into that “thinking about things” aspect of my windshield time. However, I have been listening to an audiobook on CD. My first intention was that it would a distraction and might help the time go more quickly. However, the book I am “reading” has struck a chord with the “thinking” time.

As background - I have been a fan of Stephen King for some time so, when my wife suggested I listen to his latest – “Duma Key” – I thought, “Sure, why not. He’s good for that kind of listening. The Gunslinger series helped me make it through many long hours on the road”.

At this point, I am a little more than halfway through the book. For those familiar with the story, he is in the midst of his opening night exhibition/coming out as an “artiste”. Of the many thematic threads running through the novel, the one I started to dwell on and loosely apply to my own situation is that one that suggests that you need to find some other way to express yourself than you ordinarily do; that this expression will be at once cathartic and redemptive. For Edgar, that expression through painting has led to some measure of redemption - the opening night of his work, and the accolades he is currently receiving.

For me, I am just trying out my own expressive “art” – writing, rather than sketching or painting. Putting down these words about my own life situation at present, as they flow from my mind, is very helpful and is already lifting the load a little here tonight in another in a successive stream of cookie-cutter hotel rooms – alone and feeling a little sorry for myself.

[Having just stopped to reread the past couple of paragraphs, I started to feel like this whole line of thinking was a little too trite; a little too contrived-sounding. But you know what? It’s the way I feel. So rather than delete it and try to find another way to go, I’m leaving it. Like I said in, I believe, my very first post, this writing is about me and I really don’t care if anyone else reads it or if anyone else cares. It’s how I feel, and putting it into words makes ME feel better. Deal].

My goal over the next couple of days (and realistically in the little time left of my Mom’s life), is to do what I can - from many miles away and with lots of distractions trying to divert my attention – for my Mom in her dying days.

I only pray for two things during this period – that I can help in some small way to help her live more comfortably, and that the pain of her condition hold off as long as possible. In some ways, I hope she goes - before the cancer takes her - from something else. Quietly, and in her sleep. She doesn’t deserve any more physical pain, and I believe she is prepared to move on. As much as I don’t want her to, I cannot stop it. Any more than I can stop the pain.

Wishing for her to keep on living, with this situation, is very selfish. I must let her go when she’s ready and when it’s her time.

For in death, there is life.