So, I haven’t written for a little while, because mainly, I needed to allow myself to escape from the painful emotions. It doesn’t matter whether I feel prepared or try to ignore them completely – those anniversary dates (Colin and Dad’s birthdays and the anniversary of their deaths) come no matter what and completely knock me over. I thought maybe this year I could deal with it a little better if I got ahead of it, but nope, doesn’t work that way I guess. The pain, anxiety, fear, whatever I am feeling, actually becomes quite physical and quite debilitating, and this year was not different. Actually, maybe worse. Perhaps, because of the loss of my friend just before. Not sure why I can’t control it, but I have decided I need help with it. I’m no good to my kids, my husband, my mom and especially to myself when I feel like that.
Strangely, by the end of the day on Tuesday (the 10th – anniversary of my dad’s death), I felt normal again. I didn’t do anything different. It was just like the crappy, horribly wave of anxiety and grief had to wash through me, and then it was gone. I don’t think this is the normal way to “feel”. I feel like I have absolutely no control, and it’s a bit scary. But, since I felt mostly normal that night, I decided to go with it and do some “normal” things. A friend from high school is in the process of transferring to Houston, and she was in town. So, she and I planned to meet for dinner the next evening. It was really nice to get out and have some normal conversation with someone! I was in a fabulous mood when I got home that night, and hung out with my husband. We talked about an upcoming trip to Aruba, as well as the Houston Rodeo, which we’ve never experienced before. I was actually getting ready to text an old friend, who actually used to be my best friend in the world. She and I haven’t talked much in 5 years – still not sure why, but I’ve finally decided to let it go and try to reconnect. She and her husband live in Austin, and I was going to invite them to come this way for one of the Rodeo concerts and stay with us. Seriously, I had my phone in my hand, and she called me instead. It was eerily strange. Still in a great mood, I answered with a, “I was just getting ready to text you!”. In reply, she said, “I have cancer.” My heart sank. I didn’t know what to say – I never do in this situation. I did my best to keep it together by keeping it clinical – asking her about the symptoms and tests. She is a nurse, and I was about 6 credit hours from becoming a nurse when my son and then dad died, so this made it easier for us both. I asked if I could visit over the weekend, told her I loved her, and we hung up. I fell apart. This is a prime example of life being too fucking short. I am so grateful she still thinks enough of me to reach out, and I want to be there for her, and I will. But, we have wasted 5 years – 5 years of memories we could have made. She doesn’t know my kids, and that breaks my heart. My kids don’t really know what an important part of my life she has been. She doesn’t know most of what I’ve done/been through, and vice versa. However, now is not the time to find out why.
My mom and I drove to Austin on Saturday and stayed a good part of the day. Her mom was there, as well as her in-laws (they live there – her FIL has Parkinson’s). It was nice to see her and catch up, but I so wish that awkwardness wasn’t there. I wish the conversation could be a little deeper, but I’m sure it will be hard for both of us. Since our visit, she received her biopsy results (from mets in her liver), and it has been determined she has colorectal cancer. They found an 8mm tumor in her rectum, and will proceed with chemo starting on Monday. I told her I will go with her whenever she needs, and I will. I have vowed to try my best to make it quality time, but it’s so hard when I’m tip-toeing around the giant elephant in the room. I’m not sure which topics are taboo, and don’t want to accidentally bring one up. See, she just stopped talking to me over 5 years ago. Not sure why, and I was a mess about it for awhile. Finally, I had let that go, but I still want to know why. I don’t have hard feelings anymore – I guess I just want to know what I did or said so I don’t do it again. Obviously, though, I can’t bring that up – I can’t contribute any more stress to her life. So, I’ll just do the best I can and be her friend.
So, that was Saturday. Sunday, I was working in my office when another very close friend called. She is the wife of my husband’s best friend, Michael. Michael’s dad was diagnosed with cancer within the year. He has progressively gotten worse, and has been in hospice care for the past few weeks, so we knew the end was coming. He was pretty bad, so she told me to let Brian know it wouldn’t be long. Michael’s dad died the next day, and we immediately made plans for Brian to fly to Indianapolis for the week to be with his friend. I am so glad he went – it wasn’t really possible for me to go because of the kids, and the fact that Brian’s dad and stepmom were arriving on Friday to visit for the weekend. Brian felt bad leaving me with all the prep (house cleaning, etc) for the visit, but I insisted he go. Heather and Michael are probably our closest friends. They have been through absolutely everything with us. They are Riley’s God Parents, and we are their son’s God Parents. We love their kids like they are ours, and they love ours the same. They are the only ones who really haven’t changed since Colin died. As my wise friend, Jen, put it, people tend to back off when you are sick or experience a tragedy, and your circle becomes very small. They were in our very small circle, and they are the only ones still remaining. When Colin died, they packed up their newborn (6 weeks old, just discharged from the NICU) and came to Ft. Wayne, got a hotel room and stayed with us through everything. Same when my dad died – they were our rock. I don’t think we could have gotten through all of that without them, so there was no way I was going to keep Brian home. I’m so glad he was there with his friend this week – it really makes such a difference. Family is family, but close friendships like that are just as valuable, even more sometimes. You can say anything to a friend without being judged – not always the case with family 😉 Heather has told me over and over again how grateful she is that Brian was there. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Losing a parent is losing a piece of yourself. After I lost Colin, and then my dad, I wasn’t sure that there was much of me left. The support I received from my close family and friends is what saved me.
Brian got home Friday evening, while we were eating dinner. His dad and stepmom had arrived earlier in the afternoon. We’re so glad they are here, but not about the why. A little over 2 years ago, Brian’s dad was diagnosed with Stage IV kidney cancer. He had a large tumor in one of his kidneys, and several mets in his lungs. There usually are no symptoms with kidney cancer, and by the time it is detected, there is usually not much time. The cancer was discovered in a routine scan for something else, he was not at all symptomatic. They live in Florida during the winter months, were there at that time (August). We decided, within the week, to pack up the family and head to Florida. We made it fun for the kids, and decided to make it Riley’s 5th birthday party. They live close to Orlando, so Riley got to go to Disney for his birthday, which was great! Brian’s dad was feeling fine, but was having the tumor removed a few weeks later. We decided that this was the time to spend quality time with him and the kids, because once he started treatment, no one knew how he would feel. We all went to Disney, Animal Kingdom and Epcot, as well as NASA and a few other places. We had a fabulous time, despite the yucky Florida August heat! I will always be grateful for that week, as I know Brian will be. Selfishly, my only regret is that I never got that “bonus time” with my dad and my kids. My dad only knew Riley for the first 5 months of his life, and never got to meet my girls. However, he loved Riley enough for a lifetime during those 5 months. I just ache for the fun he would have had with my kids. But I am also grateful that he didn’t suffer through an illness like Brian’s dad is. That would have been unbearable to watch.
Kidney cancer has no cure, and it had metastasized to his lungs, so the prognosis was not terribly positive. He had his affected kidney removed, and his urinary tract problems immediately improved. His remaining kidney immediately took over at 100%, which was great. He started his maintenance medication, which is taken orally in cycles of 3 weeks. It is similar to chemo in that it’s goal is to kill the cancer cells. Also like chemo, it kills good stuff as well. He has had bad cycles, and not terribly bad cycles. They all take a lot out of him; however, they seemed to be working well. After 4 or 5 cycles, his lung mets seemed to have disappeared. He had to take time off here and there from it because of the side affects, and at some point, his body won’t be able to tolerate it anymore. Brian is spending as much quality time with his dad as he can, and I am so glad for that. The last several cycles have been difficult for him, and it is showing a bit physically. Brian is a very positive person about 99% of the time, so he is keeping that attitude throughout his dad’s treatment. He is not in denial, but he hasn’t gone to the “dark side” that I am so prone to visiting. I stayed up way too late last night working in my office, and then sat on the couch outside of my bedroom (where my in-laws are sleeping), and listened to my father in law cough until about 4:30am. I allowed myself to slide right back into the panicky, anxiety-ridden freak mode I have been in much too often lately. I sat on the couch and reviewed CPR notes just in case. NONE of this is about me, so why can I NOT handle it? I need to be strong and supportive, my husband’s rock. But that ridiculous sea of anxiety has planted itself right back inside of my chest cavity again.
So, here is where I need to start becoming a helpful, supportive, functional human being again. I need to get some help. I have done the SSRI thing (Lexapro, and then Celexa), and they definitely helped. However, the Celexa finally stopped working as it should. The anxious feelings were creeping back, but I still had that flat affect side affect that comes with those meds. For me, it pretty much took away my emotional response. For awhile, that was probably helpful. However, I finally decided that I needed to be able to feel again. Someone close to me died last year, and I couldn’t even cry. That was enough for me – I need to be able to feel human emotion, so I just stopped taking them. I was okay for awhile – even handled the move okay. However, slowly but surely those terribly overwhelming emotions are coming back at times. Maybe they are just playing catch up, but sometimes they are just too much. I met with a family doc a couple of months ago for routine blood work. I brought up my issues and asked about possible alternatives to what I had been taking. In short, this might have been the worst doctor in the universe. She flat out told me that my son and dad died over 7 years ago, and I needed the meds then, but now its time that I learn to deal with emotions on my own. This, of course, made me feel like a whiny, weak drug-seeker. More proof to the “worst doctor in the world” label: she lectured me on my risk for Type 2 Diabetes when she saw that I had had Gestational Diabetes with my last pregnancy. I told her I was aware of the risk, and I knew I needed to control my diet and get exercise – I also told her that I had lost 35 pounds in the last 5 months. She didn’t respond at all, so I told her I knew I still needed to lose another 10-20lbs, and she responded with, “yep, you still have a ways to go”. Please note that I was fasting for the blood work, and it was now 12:30, so I was in a hypoglycemic fog – otherwise, I’m pretty sure I would have given her a piece of my mind. I was pretty much in disbelief when I left her office, but both Brian and Mom were outraged when I told them about my visit. Looking back, I think she may be the worst, even most dangerous doctor I’ve ever met. Haven’t reported her yet, but still contemplating it. I don’t have an eating disorder (besides eating too much 😉 ), but how did she know that? I have many friends who have suffered from eating disorders, and making a statement like that without first knowing how I lost the weight was incredibly irresponsible. So . . . . . . still need to find a doc to talk to about my issues.
I found a great gynecologist (or rather my mom did), and met with her this past week. She was wonderful, compassionate and empathetic – everything a good doctor should be. She gave me the names of some good docs, including a psychiatrist. Never in a million years did I think I would allow my self to be “shrunk”, but now, I’m thinking it’s unavoidable. I really don’t want to go back on meds right away, or at all if I can avoid it. I’ve never been to a support group or talked to a therapist about what I’ve been through. Brian and I had a short stint in marriage counseling after Samantha was born, but the only success came from her (the therapist’s) complete ineptitude. She was terrible!! We gave her 5 tries, and when she did nothing but load us down with worksheets to work on at home, and never once addressed the death of my son or father, we decided to let her go. I think Brian and I were fine all along – we just had all of this grief, anger, fear, uncertainty inside of ourselves because of the horrendous ride we had been on since Colin had died. Making fun of the stupid therapist after each appt did us more good than actually meeting with her, so we decided we’d save the $100/week and just try to laugh together on our own again. Brian and I have been through hell and back together, so there is no doubt we’re supposed to be together. It’s not perfect (whose relationship is?), and could definitely use some work, but we love each other madly and are best friends. Much, much less has broken up many marriages, so I’m holding onto him for dear life. I haven’t been the best wife (or mom or daughter for that matter) for awhile, and that is the main reason I am motivated to seek help. I need to find the old me. The one who could laugh at anything; the one who could take a deep breath and face my challenges instead of letting them cripple me. I need to wake her up and let her live her life and put this scared, irritable, anxious version back where she belongs. So, now that I’ve put it out there, I’ve forced myself to be accountable – I will call the psychiatrist tomorrow.
3here1inheaven 