Roller Coaster

UP DATE:   

I do apologize for not being able to write for some time. My final semester of graduate school approached with a vengeance. I took a logic class. For someone like me logic is like algebra or reading through a mirror upside down, backwards while hanging from a cliff. Do not try to understand it. Just try to memorize it. Now it is two semesters later and I get it some of it. My light bulbs may come on in the elevator of life in which I ride to get or the concept at a later date.
 

My mother was very ill during my final semester in graduate school, had a massive stroke three days before graduation. The car broke down and I almost didn’t make it. For those of you who do not know me, my mother and I were not friends; love? I took good care of her in her elderly years as did my eldest brother. I needed a break and just until the last semester started slowly moving her and my brother back to my daily routine of a questionable life. It surely wasn’t a life enjoyed or expected it was hard and my children made it wonderful for me.  After mother’s stroke she tried to recover, but it was her time to go home. She died in the nursing home peacefully in February. She just went to sleep and never woke. I finally let everyone know that mom had an aneurysm in her brain and that I had promised her not to say anything about it when I found out about it last October 2014.

 

Many things went downhill--my middle brother (the continual drug/alcohol recovery) moved back with us after a 15 year hiatus. Well actually after trying to get his act together in the Alabama Department of Corrections.  His act is ready for a road show. He is very good too. Knows exactly what to do and how to fool the best until the liquor and crack totally takes over. Then Beware! Everything that anyone has or owns must be locked up and secured. He is very consuming of one’s time and energy. He is someone where on the streets of Houston as I write this post. I do not like his actions and will not have it around me.

          Many things went uphill as well. A terminal chronic illness that was stressed upon my eldest brother is not nor never has been an issue with his health because he didn’t have it. Thank you for North Carolina Doctor who stated otherwise. He was so very relieved as we all were since he had stopped living for the past 13 years. He then met his “soul mate.” Over the internet of all places. He left to be with her in Florida. I am very happy for him.  There were issues over money between he and I in which we will just have to iron out. My children told me I lost it a long time ago with the financial aspect of living. I have had to turn over to them to handle especially when I ended up in the hospital.

The first diagnoses was low oxygen possibly COPD, possibly enlarged Aorta, congestive heart failure or possibly pneumonia. Well it wasn’t any of those things, just a really bad case of upper respiratory infection from a sinus infection like I thought. In all the process.

I had forgotten to take care of me.

While trying to diet, I had forgotten to eat and hydrate properly. Meanwhile I am on my deathbed according to the medical community assigned the hospital’s “Doctor from Hell!” (That is a physician -- a little manicured mini-god-- who knows everything about you without even looking at one’s chart, assessing their medical history,  or asking their name.) He is the type of person, and not his profession, that one would love to empty fecal projectile on his "perfectionism" or pummel his face with my food tray. Regardless of the urge I didn’t! I did scream bloody murder, recovered all my oxygen, heaved the last of the mucus (landing on the window dead center target) that was strangulating my vocal cords and felt 100% better. Carol Burnett would have given that scream in the House of Loud Screams" a TEN on the rector scale for earthly movements. All my daughter did was raise her eyebrow and ask,

    “Do you feel better you big baby after pitching that temper tantrum?” Meanwhile she continued to read me the daughters riot act about me wanting to checkout on life after I had made the decisions that my mother was moving back into the house with me. I didn’t want that to happen and I was trying to get out of it. Time to “shit or get off the pot!” I swear the things we teach our children.

Well God exists.  He places a little of those sharp edged “Jobial” trials and tribulations in our paths. No one is exempt like we think they are. I am still here and have a purpose for living. Great news in all of this. My daughter married a very wonder man and had a baby one week later. I am his Gammy. My son and I have a little flat where I am learning to take care of me. He is not stupid. When I say I can’t he says,

    “I am not calling 911. Get your own ass up!” What do you think I do? Angrily I get up.If he thought I was in need of help beyond his control he would call 911.

God does exists. Whether or not we want to admit it, we loan credence to His wonderful existence in just thinking about him on a daily basis. But it is not my time to meet him.  I am sure he will let me know when.

God bless each and all.