2015 was not a good year for me. Although I have some wonderful memories of time spent with my children, stepchildren and all of the Grandchildren, the rest of my world fell apart.
I started the year out with the resolution that I was going to take care of myself. I wanted to exercise more, take better care of my health and to hopefully lose weight. I signed up for the Color Run for motivation so I could train for something.
My father was not doing well, he was in the hospital and had to have his leg amputated below the knee due to diabetes complications. I called him every day in the hospital and our conversations became sadder and hopeless. He was giving up. He didn't try to do the rehab and was giving up. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to do anything. I would convince him to eat on the phone by telling him that as soon as he was able to get up into his wheelchair that I would come and get him. He didn't want to get "stuck" in the hospital. I told him to work hard and I would come down as soon as he could get into his wheelchair and feed himself. That would last a day or two and he would give up again. He would say to me "Say your goodbyes, Sis". He would tell me that he didn't want to live any more, not like this. He would say that he was ready and I should just say Goodbye and go on with my life and not to worry about him. I continued to call him and it got to the point that he wouldn't answer the phone and I would have to call the nurses desk and have them hand the phone to him when I called. He seemed so frail on the phone.
One day I was at the Children's Museum with 2 of my grandchildren and I received a phone call from Dad's Doctor. The Doctor said that Dad wasn't doing well. I knew that, but hearing it from the doctor made it seem way too real. I called my brother and began making arrangements to go down to Florida to see him. My brother doesn't do too well getting around as he has back and leg problems. He gets around with a scooter as walking is too difficult. After talking hto him twice, it became apparent that he didn't want to go. He worried about traveling without his scooter, even though I told him we could rent a wheelchair or scooter, he said he didn't know how he'd get from flight to flight, he worried that he wouldn't have enough money and then he said he didn't feel comfortable staying at Dad's house because he was never invited. (There has been a history of poor communication between my brothers and my father, but that is not going to be discussed in this forum, I feel it's up to him to come to grips with what his relationship was and what it meant meant to Dad and to him). Nevertheless, I began making plans to travel down to Florida by myself, making lists of what I was going to have to do when I got there. Dad's bills were over 2 months behind, so I thought I would have to either get him to sign some checks or get Power of Attorney to pay his bills so he didn't lose his house or insurance, etc.
I was looking up flight information when my husband asked me if I was sure that my brother wasn't going to go. I told him that I was sure he didn't want to go. So Mike told me that if I was sure my brother wasn't going, he would take a week off and take me down there as he didn't want me to try to face all of this myself.
So, we made requests for vacation and planned our trip with lists of things to accomplish. In the meantime, Dads doctor called me and said that Dad's leg would now need to be amputated above the knee as gangrene had set in. The doctor told me that Dad was very very weak and wasn't sure he would be able to make it through the surgery. He said the only other alternative would be hospice. I wasn't sure what to do. I told the doctor I would need to discuss this with my brother. I called my brother and he was clearly aggitated and upset. He said we shouldn't be making these decisions for Dad that Dad should be making his own decisions. I told him I wasn't sure if he could make the decision and that I would find out. So I called the doctor back and he said he would have Dad assessed to see if he was capable of making decisions on his own. He called me back later and said that he was NOT capable. All he would say is "Let me die". I told the doctor I would call my brother and we would make a decision. The doctor asked me if my brother was older or younger and I said older. He said then he would have to defer to him for the decision as the oldest sibling has the rights. I gave him my brothers phone number and I also called and left my brother a message that the doctor was going to call him for his decision. My brother did not answer his phone all day. The hospital finally called me back and said they needed a decision and they were deferring to me. I asked to speak to the doctor. The doctor called and said that we need to do something right away. I told him I didn't know what to say that I was leaving the next day to come down. He said he needed a decision now. I said to him "If this was YOUR father, what would you do?" He said to me very calmly "I would contact hospice". He said "Your father is at the end of his life's cycle, he is very weak, his kidney's have failed and the surgery will only extend his life a short time." He said, "Your father is ready," So I made the call to put him in hospice. I cried for a couple hours afterwards. I hated making that decision, but I knew that's what my Dad would want. I contacted the nurses on the hospice unit and asked them to put sports on the tv for him, and leave it on. I told them I would be there in 2 days as I was leaving the next day to drive down.
Mike and I left the morning of February 7th, and got to West Virginia when the hospital called and said my Dad has passed peacefully in his sleep. I was devastated. We stopped for gas and I cried through the store on the way to the bathroom. I didn't make it. I did not get to say my Goodbyes... I will forever live with that...
Our whole plan of action now changed. I couldn't think. I never wanted to make another decision on anything.
Well, I contacted my brother and although I never asked him to come, I made the mistake (in my poor state of mind) that he still would not be able to come down, as nothing changed physically for him.
I finally faced reality and decided that I needed to be an adult and take care of things. We got to the hospital and I said my Goodbyes to my Dad. I kissed him and told him that I was sorry I didn't make it in time.
Well, I did make all of the arrangements, I donated his clothes, his wheelchair, his glasses, his walker, his life alert, his bandages, etc. to the free clinic hoping that someone could use them. Dad wanted to be cremated and that was done. I removed all personal items from his home and to this day, it is still for sale. I brought my Dad home. That was the hardest week of my life. Everything I touched I would cry over. My Dad did not have the best of relationships with any of his children, but I was always his little girl. I am sad to say that my brother, has not handled any of this very well and has not spoken to me since. I tried to communicate, but found it to be fruitless. The longer the time goes on, the more he is hurting and withdrawing from family. I only wish he knew how much I missed him and how much I love him, and how sorry I am that he feels the way he does.
So, onward.. I started training for my Color Run.. I started feeling pretty good health wise. I went for my physical... It seems that my months of exercising and running and trying to take care of myself only resulted in my being diagnosed with high blood pressure. I sometimes feel like I can't win...
In February, my son had an accident at work which tore his rotator cuff. In May he had surgery and since he couldn't work, we brought him to live with us until he could finish rehabilitation. At first he could hardly do anything by himself, including buttoning his pants. Thankfully, Mama didn't have a problem helping him. He has since finished his rehabilitation and is back to work, however he still has a lot of pain and I doubt if it will ever be right.
I made an appointment for a dermotologist for a rash on my hand that just wouldn't go away. While I was there, the doctor said that he was more worried about a spot on my face than he was with my hands.. Well, I can say that I'm a survivor of my first and hopefully last case of Cancer. I now know what it feels like to have that hijacker take over your body. I wanted it gone immediately, but I had to wait for a special oncology plastic surgeon due to the location on my face. Waiting was horrible, I just wanted that creature gone... I also worried about having a horrible scar on my face. But I survived that with limited scarring.
I did go to the Color Run and finished. I did not run the whole route I had to walk alot and I was very disappointed in myself. Although it was fun, I was not happy about my performance. So, I've signed up for the Insane Inflatable for August 20th.
I plan to retire in 2016, so I was trying to take care of all of my special doctor appointment so i could get them in on my insurance as I'm switching to Mike's after I retire. So a few weeks ago, I went to the opthamalogist. I went to have my floaties checked as I do every year. This year, he sent me immediatly into surgery because i had a tear in my retina. When I got into the surgery (laser) they repaired 5 tears. Check up 2 weeks later and I had another tear. Ugh... Now I can't bend over or lift anything until my next check up.
So I still have many many things to be thankful for, like waking up every morning and having a very close loving family and 12 beautiful grandchildren, a good job, a few nice vacations and better health than some... this was not my best year.
I'm retiring in 22 days. I'm already starting to plan 2 different vacations. I'm thinking that 2016 might just be better than 2015. Although today is day 1 and I have a terrible chest cold and feel like crap... I am alive. I am loved. :)
