this is going to be a LONG post...
Mar. 6th, 2008 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hollybrookeWell, for starters, I'm back home in Indiana. I didn't end up staying a month or so, like I thought I would. The time that I spent seperated from a computer/Internet connection left me with lots of time to use my regular journal, but that's like 30 or 40 pages worth of stuff that I wrote.
My grandmother kind of knew I was just going to be flat-out miserable staying with her for a month or two. But she definitely isn't well, and even if I tried my hardest staying with her, it more than likely wouldn't have done much good.
We (meaning me, my grandmother, Dad, and my great Aunt Roberta and great Uncle Glen) all went down to her consultation with her doctor in Pensacola, Florida. Her doctor said that if she had gone through with the chemotherapy treatments when she initially had her bladder removed (which was three years ago), she would have a 15% chance of surviving. Now that she's waited and the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes, if she were to go on the chemo now, her survival rate would be 5%. Even then, the doctor said it's not like the chemo will cure the cancer at this point. However, the doctor was saying he doesn't even want to start chemo until she gains some weight and strength back. When my father and I asked (privately) how long she has left to live comfortably if she doesn't go through with the chemo, the doctor said she has about six months.
Now the point of me staying down there would've been to help her gain some weight back. But there would've just been major problems with that. First of all, my grandmother is an extreeeeemely picky eater. She always has been. Second of all, when we were all discussing what sort of stuff she should eat to help gain some weight, it's like what we were telling my grandmother was going in one ear and out the other. She drinks Coca-Cola like it's water. The doctor said he didn't have much of a problem with soft drinks, even though they're empty calories and it's just making her lack-of-bladder problems even worse because of the high caffeine content. She says the carbonation sits better on her stomach. The doctor recommended drinking more water to keep her hydrated. She doesn't like how water tastes. She also said, "Well, I put lots of ice in with my Coke, so I'm drinking a lot of water, so there." Dad and Uncle Glen had to tell her that melted ice in her Coke doesn't count because it's just mixing in with the Coke and makes it just as unhealthy. Pshaw, not like she believes us! And the only way to get her to eat is to practically force her to do so. Dad and Uncle Glen were watching her like a hawk, but she doesn't even have much of an appetite anymore in the first place.
I've come to terms that we're all just fighting a losing battle. I hate to sound so pessimistic about it, but what's the point in trying to get her to gain some weight just for her to go on the chemotherapy, get sick and lose the weight we'd work so hard for her to gain, and just be in even more pain? And it's like her doctor said. If she goes on the chemo at this point, she has a 5% survival rate, and it's not like the chemo will cure it. She had more of a chance three years ago before it spread. She's damned if she does, and she's damned if she doesn't.
But............COME ON. If she's let it get this bad, it's obvious that she just doesn't care anymore. When you think about it, my grandmother has lost just about everyone in her family. She's lost my grandfather to prostate cancer, a baby cousin to meningitis, my Aunt Pam and cousin Amber in a freak car accident, my Uncle Ken to a drug-induced heart attack (didn't help that he was terribly overweight and had one of the oddest cases of HIV/AIDS--he knew he was going to die anyway; he was just depressed and on as many drugs as he could take), JR (and we all know about that...you can search this LJ's archives for about four years ago about that), her mother, one of her brothers, and both of her sisters (including my great Aunt Ruth last spring). My dad is the only one left that she has.
I (and my mom) believe she just gave up after JR died. She was diagnosed with the cancer about a year later, had her bladder removed...no wonder she didn't go on the chemotherapy back then. It's not like it mattered now that her precious JR isn't around. While we were down there, she just kept going on about how "she felt her job was done once JR died" and "she was all that he had." It seems to me that she forgot a six-month period after Aunt Pam and Amber died when his Aunt Tammy and Uncle Steve (my parents) let him live with us, took care of him and made him actually have a life. We made him go to school, we made him do chores, we made sure he was eating right and took his meds and took him to the hospital for whatever necessary treatments he needed. He was probably the healthiest he was when he was living with us. But then Grandma Cozie decided she wanted him to live with her, and when he was with her, she didn't force him to go to school. She let him eat all the crap he wanted (and develop diabetes on top of the CF and hepatitis C that he already had) and neglect his treatments. She gave him whatever he wanted because he was so sickly and "special," and more of a son to her than her own sons were. And that just pissed Dad right off. (I heard it pissed Uncle Ken off some, too.) It's like the whole sum of his existence was that he had CF and was "special," and she just contributed to a lot of that. And she likes to think of herself as some sort of martyr for his cause. *pfft* Whatever.
So to hear her say "my job was over when he died" pretty much said it all to me. She just wants her life to be over so she can be with who really matters to her. It's not like Hunter or I matter much to her at all. (Hunter may matter more because he's the spitting image of Uncle Ken.) It's not like she wants to live to see her other two grandchildren who are still alive get married or graduate or have children of their own. She was getting on me about that sort of shit anyway. She was all, "Holly, you need to get married so you can have me some great-grandbabies." HA! What a joke. Have great-grandbabies for her to neglect like she did with me? Good one. I'm her biggest disappointment, so why did she even bother telling me that?
Dad's concerned about leaving her in the care of his cousins down there because they're kind of flaky and more concerened about Grandma Cozie's money. But you know, if they rip her off....maybe she deserves it. I'm a firm believe in the theory "only one person is responsible for all their problems, and it's usually you."
Mom and I kind of think she's going to do herself in with no one around. That's why we think she didn't want me there, to deal with finding her dead body. But you know, that'd be the ultimate kiss-off to me, if she really wanted to piss the "ungrateful, know-it-all, disappointment of a granddaughter" off.
But like I said...I'm back home. *yaaaaay!* Dad and I got home around 3 AM last night. See, before I left, I power-cleaned in my bedroom thinking, "When I get home after a month or so, I just want to get into my nice, clean, freshly-made bed." I got in my room and Hunter was sleeping in there. I was like, "....Ugh." I wanted to kick him out of the bed and say, "HEY, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, YOU ASSHOLE?! WHO SAID YOU COULD SLEEP IN HERE WHILE I'M GONE?!" But he stirred and got out of bed. He later told me that Bo kept climbing into bed with him and there was no room in his bed, so he just went in my room. Mom said, "That's crap, he's been crashing in there all week." Bo was very happy that Dad and I came home.
I kind of have the week off from work, but that means I'll be on call in case they can find some hours for me or if anyone calls off. Randy (the store manager) and Micki (in charge of payroll) have been very good about helping me out with this stuff.
Kevin stopped by after his shift yesterday (which was VERY sweet of him) and he stayed for dinner. Mom really likes him.
And yeah, Fester, if you're reading this, this means I'll definitely be around for WrestleMania.
My grandmother kind of knew I was just going to be flat-out miserable staying with her for a month or two. But she definitely isn't well, and even if I tried my hardest staying with her, it more than likely wouldn't have done much good.
We (meaning me, my grandmother, Dad, and my great Aunt Roberta and great Uncle Glen) all went down to her consultation with her doctor in Pensacola, Florida. Her doctor said that if she had gone through with the chemotherapy treatments when she initially had her bladder removed (which was three years ago), she would have a 15% chance of surviving. Now that she's waited and the cancer has spread to her lymph nodes, if she were to go on the chemo now, her survival rate would be 5%. Even then, the doctor said it's not like the chemo will cure the cancer at this point. However, the doctor was saying he doesn't even want to start chemo until she gains some weight and strength back. When my father and I asked (privately) how long she has left to live comfortably if she doesn't go through with the chemo, the doctor said she has about six months.
Now the point of me staying down there would've been to help her gain some weight back. But there would've just been major problems with that. First of all, my grandmother is an extreeeeemely picky eater. She always has been. Second of all, when we were all discussing what sort of stuff she should eat to help gain some weight, it's like what we were telling my grandmother was going in one ear and out the other. She drinks Coca-Cola like it's water. The doctor said he didn't have much of a problem with soft drinks, even though they're empty calories and it's just making her lack-of-bladder problems even worse because of the high caffeine content. She says the carbonation sits better on her stomach. The doctor recommended drinking more water to keep her hydrated. She doesn't like how water tastes. She also said, "Well, I put lots of ice in with my Coke, so I'm drinking a lot of water, so there." Dad and Uncle Glen had to tell her that melted ice in her Coke doesn't count because it's just mixing in with the Coke and makes it just as unhealthy. Pshaw, not like she believes us! And the only way to get her to eat is to practically force her to do so. Dad and Uncle Glen were watching her like a hawk, but she doesn't even have much of an appetite anymore in the first place.
I've come to terms that we're all just fighting a losing battle. I hate to sound so pessimistic about it, but what's the point in trying to get her to gain some weight just for her to go on the chemotherapy, get sick and lose the weight we'd work so hard for her to gain, and just be in even more pain? And it's like her doctor said. If she goes on the chemo at this point, she has a 5% survival rate, and it's not like the chemo will cure it. She had more of a chance three years ago before it spread. She's damned if she does, and she's damned if she doesn't.
But............COME ON. If she's let it get this bad, it's obvious that she just doesn't care anymore. When you think about it, my grandmother has lost just about everyone in her family. She's lost my grandfather to prostate cancer, a baby cousin to meningitis, my Aunt Pam and cousin Amber in a freak car accident, my Uncle Ken to a drug-induced heart attack (didn't help that he was terribly overweight and had one of the oddest cases of HIV/AIDS--he knew he was going to die anyway; he was just depressed and on as many drugs as he could take), JR (and we all know about that...you can search this LJ's archives for about four years ago about that), her mother, one of her brothers, and both of her sisters (including my great Aunt Ruth last spring). My dad is the only one left that she has.
I (and my mom) believe she just gave up after JR died. She was diagnosed with the cancer about a year later, had her bladder removed...no wonder she didn't go on the chemotherapy back then. It's not like it mattered now that her precious JR isn't around. While we were down there, she just kept going on about how "she felt her job was done once JR died" and "she was all that he had." It seems to me that she forgot a six-month period after Aunt Pam and Amber died when his Aunt Tammy and Uncle Steve (my parents) let him live with us, took care of him and made him actually have a life. We made him go to school, we made him do chores, we made sure he was eating right and took his meds and took him to the hospital for whatever necessary treatments he needed. He was probably the healthiest he was when he was living with us. But then Grandma Cozie decided she wanted him to live with her, and when he was with her, she didn't force him to go to school. She let him eat all the crap he wanted (and develop diabetes on top of the CF and hepatitis C that he already had) and neglect his treatments. She gave him whatever he wanted because he was so sickly and "special," and more of a son to her than her own sons were. And that just pissed Dad right off. (I heard it pissed Uncle Ken off some, too.) It's like the whole sum of his existence was that he had CF and was "special," and she just contributed to a lot of that. And she likes to think of herself as some sort of martyr for his cause. *pfft* Whatever.
So to hear her say "my job was over when he died" pretty much said it all to me. She just wants her life to be over so she can be with who really matters to her. It's not like Hunter or I matter much to her at all. (Hunter may matter more because he's the spitting image of Uncle Ken.) It's not like she wants to live to see her other two grandchildren who are still alive get married or graduate or have children of their own. She was getting on me about that sort of shit anyway. She was all, "Holly, you need to get married so you can have me some great-grandbabies." HA! What a joke. Have great-grandbabies for her to neglect like she did with me? Good one. I'm her biggest disappointment, so why did she even bother telling me that?
Dad's concerned about leaving her in the care of his cousins down there because they're kind of flaky and more concerened about Grandma Cozie's money. But you know, if they rip her off....maybe she deserves it. I'm a firm believe in the theory "only one person is responsible for all their problems, and it's usually you."
Mom and I kind of think she's going to do herself in with no one around. That's why we think she didn't want me there, to deal with finding her dead body. But you know, that'd be the ultimate kiss-off to me, if she really wanted to piss the "ungrateful, know-it-all, disappointment of a granddaughter" off.
But like I said...I'm back home. *yaaaaay!* Dad and I got home around 3 AM last night. See, before I left, I power-cleaned in my bedroom thinking, "When I get home after a month or so, I just want to get into my nice, clean, freshly-made bed." I got in my room and Hunter was sleeping in there. I was like, "....Ugh." I wanted to kick him out of the bed and say, "HEY, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, YOU ASSHOLE?! WHO SAID YOU COULD SLEEP IN HERE WHILE I'M GONE?!" But he stirred and got out of bed. He later told me that Bo kept climbing into bed with him and there was no room in his bed, so he just went in my room. Mom said, "That's crap, he's been crashing in there all week." Bo was very happy that Dad and I came home.
I kind of have the week off from work, but that means I'll be on call in case they can find some hours for me or if anyone calls off. Randy (the store manager) and Micki (in charge of payroll) have been very good about helping me out with this stuff.
Kevin stopped by after his shift yesterday (which was VERY sweet of him) and he stayed for dinner. Mom really likes him.
And yeah, Fester, if you're reading this, this means I'll definitely be around for WrestleMania.
