Consider this... Birthdays

Tomorrow is my 51st birthday. I was born on August 22nd in 1959, at 3:05 pm which makes me a cuspy Leo/Virgo... hence the previous post about that year. If you haven't seen it yet, click 1959.

This has definitely been an eventful year. Last October, I spent a month in Lexington, Kentucky at Saint Joseph Hospital, East. My dad was showing sick back in June during vacation, spent a month at home promising to visit the doctor before he left to spend a month or so with my sister in Florida. I'm still not quite sure if he visited the doctor or not. During vacation with us, he would seem to forget exactly what he was doing. He'd go to sit and seem to get stuck 1/2 way down to the chair and wouldn't move again until someone nudged him verbally or physically. He showed no signs of being ill while at sisters, but on the way home he took ill again. I got a call from my mom worried that he'd had a stroke. She was waffling between taking him home to the doctor's or to the hospital. I had to ask her how she would feel if dad died on the way home to convince her to check him in. His kidneys had failed, he had a MRSA in his blood, and developed pneumonia and blood clots in his arm and legs before they finally got him well enough to return home. The doctor stated that he'd never seen someone as sick as dad was actually leave the hospital under his own power, even if that was a wheel chair.

Next came almost 6 months of mom and dad staying with us here at the house. We had their bed brought from their house, brought dad's lift chair and mom bought herself one, ensconced them in the living room as comfortably as possible, and tried our level best to keep the noise of the children from driving them insane. Dad has never been an easy man and growing up with him and his harshness made me determined to not allow him to visit his wrath on my kids as much as possible. On the reverse side, I slept on the couch in the basement, in my step-son's room, and in the basement's bedroom before my husband was convinced to finally get our bed set up in the basement.

We made it to April. Dad was getting on the kids for every little thing. Even if I were around for which he had explicit instructions to leave them to me then. I had to have left the dinner table at least 6 times the last couple of weeks they were there to just keep the peace. The straw/camel/back thing happened when dad got after my youngest for not having a cold Dr. Pepper in the fridge. I had had it by that time and let me dad know in no uncertain terms (and no uncertain language) that I wasn't standing for it another moment. He could either watch his actions and words or he could leave. He decided to leave at midnight that night and mom decided to go with him... to a house infested with mice.

I was torn between my victory and my guilt for their situation. When my sister went to the pastor of their church for some help for mom/dad in cleaning up their house, she was told by him that "that's the children's job". Forget all the support to the church my mom and dad have given over the years. Forget the fact that all of their children had duties and responsibilities for their own work/families. One of the many reasons I don't go to church now. I'm sick of this behavior with people who assume the name of Christ. They got their house in order, lost all of their furniture because of the infestation, and any food in boxes that the rodents could get into. By the way, dad and I had a discussion where we agreed to disagree but he knows now in no uncertain terms he is not to behave that way towards my kids any longer.

Fast forward... June, dad fell going up the steps and cut his knee a bit. Then, without checking the levels of Coumadin (remember the blood clots?) in his blood, they removed his ureteral stent and sent him home where he promptly began bleeding furiously. Mom got him to the hospital where they ended up giving him 5 units of blood. We only hold 5-6 units folks. So yeah, he almost died again.

Then, I lost my business from the time I had spent in Lexington. It wasn't big but it was starting to grow. I just couldn't recover from the time-loss and money loss. Consequently, my husband and I ended up filing for bankruptcy. It's not something we're well pleased with, but we had no choice. We filed once before when my husband almost died from a mosquito bite (viral encephalitis or equine encephalitis as most people call it). We lost our home that time but this time we're managing to keep it so far.

So, now that should be enough for anyone you'd think, right? Well, you couldn't be as far from the truth than that.

Got a call about a month ago late at night on a Wednesday from my brother that mom had been taken to the Hillsdale Community Health Center for a fall and breaking her nose. She had apparently fallen at church. How he got that information?? He called again early Thursday stating that it wasn't her nose, it was her back, it was broken, and she was being taken emergently to Bronson Hospital Trama Care in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She had a broken vertebra mid-way down her spine. I hot-footed it over to the hospital to find my mom looking like this:

Trust me, I've never seen her looking so bad. They had her doped up even at that point. She has no recollection of those days at Bronson. The first she truly remembers after Hillsdale Hospital is the day after surgery. They had her that way to manage the pain but even then she cried. I don't know if you've ever had to hold your mom's hand when she's in pain, but believe me, it isn't easy. I couldn't deal. I left. I came back the next day, but I left. Not proud of that, but I'd run out of strength. I left... and I cried all the way home. I don't remember that trip and it's an hour's drive. Went back to that hospital every night after work and spent hours with her on my days off. But that isn't all...

The weekend after she fell, my dad collapsed at the hospital. Sister from Indiana took him to the emergency room there at Bronson, but they couldn't find a reason. Brother took him home to his house but the next day, dad couldn't climb the stairs to leave the house. Brother took him to Jackson's Allegiance Hospital where they discovered his MRSA was back. It was caught in time but now I had 2 hospitals to divide my time between. Mom's surgery went well, although she kept seeing mice on the ceiling of her room and the recovery room thanks to wonderful medication. And dad was on one of the strongest antibiotics he could be to drive the infection from his blood.

About 3 weeks ago, mom and dad made it to rehab in Chelsea, Michigan. They're in the same room and both are improving. They're expected to be released in about 2 weeks and will be spending the rest of their recuperation with my sis in Indiana then spending the winter with my sis in Florida. Dad's afraid that if they come to my home that he'll lose me forever. He wouldn't, but I'm not telling him. Let him worry.

This was taken 5 days ago

AND, on top of it all, I also lost one of my dearest friends back when things were getting really interesting. He always said he'd be there for me, that he couldn't imagine his life without me, how much he loved me and how much I'd been a boone for him and he wouldn't be the man he is today without my influence. Apparently, I didn't do as good a job of influencing as I'd thought or he confessed. Apparently when you get a real life girlfriend, any statements made previously are moot. He says it's because he'd grown to depend on me too much (insert laugh here) but ... yeah... not fooling me whatever he says. Thanks a lot and don't let the door bat you on the fanny on your way out... and yes, I mean fanny, stupid Englisher.

So, that was my year...

How was yours?