Tag: chronic illness

How Can I Help You to Say Goodbye

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

How Can I Help You Say Goodbye

I have been staring at a legal pad, wanting to write, for the past hour. I have several things to write about or thoughts to jot down but nothing seems to come to me once I grab hold of the pen. The last several hours have been difficult. I have gone from being in a good mood, to being in a mixed state, to feeling psychache, to feeling really sad and depressed. I am stuck in the depressed phase right now.

The movies of my father’s last hours keep floating around. Then I have the memories of the doctor appointments, hospital visits, visits to his home the last few months. How quickly he declined. There was no warning saying he was going to die when he did. In April, the prognosis of death was definite but we didn’t know when. They gave us a few weeks to a few months. It really wasn’t until two weeks ago that they really told us a week or less. And it was less. I got the phone call on April 19th his kidneys were shutting down and by the 25th, he was gone. Nothing more could be done for him, I got to keep telling myself that. He wouldn’t have wanted heroic measures, such as a feeding tube, to prolong his life. He lived a long life.

I don’t know why this is affecting me. I didn’t think I would have a reaction to his death. That may sound callous but he wasn’t the loving and dearest man on the planet. Up until he got really sick, I despised the man. I couldn’t stand being around him. And the night in the ER where I spent 12 hours with him, just for him to go against medical advice really pissed me off. And there was no point in arguing with him once his mind was made up. I remember wanting to write about the narcissism. But I couldn’t because everything that I read about it just pointed to him.

His being gone is making me sad and I have no explanation for it. I certainly didn’t prepare for it. But who really prepares for the death of a parent, whether they were good or bad? I think the good ones do their best to try and ease their children’s pain. There is a song that is by Laura Branigan about how a mother tries to ease her child’s pain through life’s disappointments and departures. The song is called, “How can I help you say goodbye”. My father never helped. He just made fun of you or smacked you when you had child’s disappointment and sadness. He would give you something to cry about.

I once had him on a pedestal. I think all children idolize their parents no matter how bad they are treated. That pedestal came crashing down the night he threatened to take someone’s life. My world was crushed. I no longer wanted to live in this world after that. It was way too painful. And when my father was told I wanted to kill myself, he kindly told me to jump off a bridge. Emotionally, I had to cut myself off from him. It didn’t happen overnight. But I became numb to his behavior towards me. He used to pick on me the worst of my sisters. He made fun of my weight, what I ate, how much I ate and the like. It’s amazing that I don’t have an eating disorder because of him. I just didn’t care. Psychologically, I know that it was the attention, no matter how negative it was, I was looking for. At least he was paying attention to me in his warped way.

He died surrounded by the only family he didn’t piss off, his daughters. Though there was a point where he thought my youngest sister and I were out to kill him. We should have known then that he was off or that his liver disease was getting worse. Yet no one thought to run an ammonia level on him. Hindsight is 20/20. Maybe if we had controlled this blood level, we could have prolonged his life a little more, to give us time to deal with his death a little better. I don’t know. I really thought he would live another year, tops. I had no clue he would have this downfall. And he was a pain in the ass until his mind was gone.

The grief is hard to process, there is no denying this. For those that read this blog daily, I need to write about this. I spent 40 years dealing with a narcissistic parent that spent more money on himself than for his kids. People have told me he loved us. I know that he was proud of us because he would show us off like we were his trophies. He carried a newspaper article that was written about me when I was in the eighth grade for years in his wallet. In addition to a picture of himself when he was 20, he also carried a wallet size pic of the three of us when we were younger. I think I was no more than eight in the picture. He would show it off when the three of us were at his doctor’s appointment.

I don’t know many people that carry pictures of themselves in their wallet. They might have pictures of themselves on their phones, but not their wallet or purse.

Breakdown here

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Breakdown here

Today I broke down, while at the nursing home. My younger sister snapped at me and that was it. It started a cascade of tears and I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tried. Then I would get my composure, start talking and the tears started up again. I finally stopped but after I wrote to my psychiatrist about the ridiculousness of the day, I started up again and couldn’t stop. I was in my room and thought I had privacy until my middle sister came to check on me. Then I cried harder. It was such difficulty to stop when I couldn’t.

Found out my middle sister reads my blogs. So I kind of had to stop posting on FB my posts. I will lose some views per day but least she won’t be “spying” on me. She was reading my blogs to check up on me and I had no idea until today. She and my other sister were upset that I didn’t tell them my thoughts on how long my father had left. I told them that it could be a few days to a week to ten days or more.

I am really tired and in pain. I have been up since 0400. I left the house early because I wanted coffee even though I had made a cup at home. I just needed to get out of the house. I didn’t have a breakfast sandwich today because I wasn’t hungry. I had a black bean burger and some baked beans for my breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with a bottle of water. I just am not hungry today. Last night after we left the nursing home, my sister took us out to eat and I was still kind of full from that. My stomach is just not the same as it used to be. I lost a few more pounds though I am still not less than 200. I am working on it though. I will be weighed tomorrow when I go to my pain management appointment.

I did a stupid thing today. My father needed to use the bathroom while I was there. It was just me and I thought I would be able to handle it. Wrong. He lost control of his legs because he was so weak and I had to lower him to the floor because I couldn’t maneuver him back to the bed. I had to call for help and the nurses looked at me like I had three heads. I was like WTF. I hurt my back in the process. I think it’s just soreness and I hope it goes away. The whole episode left me very upset. Hence why I was so tearful.

My ankle is killing me and so is my foot. I feel like I should ice it but sometimes that makes it worse. I have already taken multiple doses of pain meds. I might have to take a strong one to calm it down. I think I might have twisted it without realizing it while dealing with my father. Course, I have been standing a LOT the last few days on it so that might be another reason why it’s so damn painful.

After I wrote my psychiatrist the email, I became really suicidal. I would have slashed my throat or something if I had the means. I was desperate to die. I texted my therapist that I was having a breakdown. She called me a few hours later to find out what was going on. I told her that I really wanted to be in the hospital but can’t because I have a meeting with the nursing home people on Tuesday and because I am the health care proxy, I have to be there or they can’t give out any information to my sisters. Next week is going to be really tough because the insurance my father has runs out and the state insurance is still in process. They are so damn slow. My father could die while waiting for the application to go through. I’m still hoping that he does die but an assessment today said that he could live for the next 10 days or so. It’s going to put a financial burden on us if the thing doesn’t go through. We don’t have the money to pay the nursing home fees. I don’t know what we are going to do if we have to take him home. I just worry that comfort measures won’t be so suitable in my father’s apartment like they will be in the home. Just add a little more stress to my life, why not!

My Sunday Continues

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide

With the help of my psychiatrist, I was able to avoid being in the hospital for a few days. If I didn’t have commitments over the next few days, I would have gone in. She was talking about short term hospitalization (most hospitalizations are) but I couldn’t do it knowing that I had to babysit tomorrow. There would be no one to watch my niece and I would feel bad.

I haven’t eaten anything all day except for some melon. I am hungry but I’m not. I really just want an Ensure and go to bed. I have a splitting headache. Two ladies in front of me were singing and humming and were so damn off key it was pathetic. It rang through my head like nails on a chalkboard. Then there was a teen that was vomiting. I tried not to listen and he was a quiet vomiter so I didn’t get sick. Eight hours after being there, I finally saw the psychiatrist. She really wanted me inpatient and I think she had her heart set on it but I didn’t. I wasn’t in a suicidal state. I just needed an understanding ear, which I got with the doc. I know I could have paged my psychiatrist and talked but I really wanted to be in an environment that wasn’t my room. And believe me it was tempting to say yes but I had to decline. I do have to see my psychiatrist on Wed. I feel really bad now because she said she had a jam packed schedule. I know it’s the depression talking. I really understand her worry for me but I think I am okay now. I spent eight hours in an ER that was for me, though I had memories of being with my father there. In fact, I was across from the bay where my father was where I poked him after he wanted to leave AMA the last time he was there.

The place was busy as is usual for an academic hospital center. I swear more people were piling in as the hours went on than when I first came to the area I was. It was all open so you could hear all the talk. This one had a kidney stone, that one had an infection, some were psych patients waiting to be admitted. I found out one psych patient on Friday had pulled the sprinkler off and flooded the psych ER. That was why they were in a different area and more security was around. I think it was funny as the nurses were describing it but it isn’t really. Now the psych patients are in with the general ER and it can be quite disturbing.

I was glad that I was discharged after seeing the attending psychiatrist. It was quick and I was happy. The nurse gave me a ginger ale as I requested some juice or something as I could feel my own blood sugar plummet. I was starting to get the shakes and I feared I would get a dizzy spell. That would be all I needed was to pass out in the ER after I said I was okay to go home.

Now I got to fill in my pill box for the week. I still have my bag packed in case I go in next week. I think my father might have just a week or so left in him from what I hear from my sister. He really is deteriorating quickly. I feel so bad and sad. But it would really kill me if he died while I am in the hospital. I know that I need to be there to take care of myself but I have to put myself aside for the moment.

Saturday Blog 47

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Saturday Blog 47

I have been feeling uneasy all day. I have been contemplating going to the ER for an eval, just for shits and giggles. But seriously, I just want to talk to someone neutral about what is going on and if I truly need to be in the hospital or just continue struggling as an outpatient. I was so torn that I decided to use a crisis hotline text chat to see if they could help. They gave me a support website for groups. I will check it out later. I felt better about talking with them about my father dying and it being hard to deal with. I also been talking about my suicidal urges that have been cropping up the last 24 hours. I just feel like I have to do something and I don’t know what that something is. Waiting for my father to die is not something I am looking forward to. I know it is going to happen but dammit. If I had a time frame, that would be fucking great. Like say he is going to die on x day at this time, then I can plan my hospitalization around that and things would be better. But life doesn’t work like that. I don’t even think my father knows he is dying because he is trying so hard to make it so he can go home. I don’t think he is going to go home, unless he doesn’t get state health care because we can’t afford to keep him in the nursing home at around $100/day.

I got some more Ensure because I was out. I still am not eating regularly. Coffee was my breakfast and a muffin with some fruit was my lunch. I have no idea if I am going to eat dinner. I have no appetite so an Ensure might be my dinner.

I don’t think my sister is going to visit my father today. She is already out and about doing things. She might be too tired to go. I don’t mind not going. I really find it hard seeing my father the way he is. Because his liver is damaged and is continuing to be, his body is producing ammonia more than usual. This is making him confused and sleepy. And he isn’t taking the medication used to bring the ammonia levels down because it’s a thick fluid and I think it tastes gross for him. I don’t know what it tastes like as I don’t have liver problems. Least I hope I never do.

The hard part for me is that I don’t think anybody has told my father that he is dying. I know my sisters haven’t told him and I am sure no medical professional has either. And what kills me is that they are giving him PT and OT to help him go back home when he is getting weaker and weaker. How is he supposed to go home when he is at risk for falling? Just getting him to the bathroom the other day was an ordeal. He almost fell backwards because he lost his balance while pulling up his pants. I just don’t get it. Then he was too tired to do anything else when we got him back to bed. Just changing him to his pajamas was tiring for him. And I think I am tired after taking a shower. The poor guy was ready to pass out he was so exhausted. It really killed me seeing him like this. And I know that it’s only going to get worse with time.

Because of his weakness and fatigue, I don’t think he will be a candidate for surgery for his other problem that he so desperately wants to take care of. And I think he might be dead before the appointment happens. I think I am the only one being the realist in the family about this. Sure we have made plans with the funeral home for his death but since we aren’t sure when he is going to die, it’s just putting more of a burden on us than we realize.

In the meantime, I am struggling with the black dog and suicidal feelings left and right. I know I should be in the hospital if anything for self-care, but I can’t take a chance that my father will die while I am there and it will just break my heart for that to happen. I want to be there when he dies, though I am still hoping he dies in his sleep.