all about perspective i guess

So if you've been reading this blog, you know that last fall, in October, my bff Nina had me out to her home along with a couple of women I hadn't met before.  One was a wounded bird that I took an immediate liking to, the other a Quaker lady who Nina thought I might not mesh with.  As it turned out, we all got along famously and had such fun.  We laughed and cooked and walked beaches and just had great girl fun.  Here's the perspective part.  One of the girls has just discovered that she might/probably has terminal pancreatic and liver cancer.  You know, just when you think life has handed you some shit, you get a reminder that someone else is fighting a harder battle.  And this is one that I don't know how to handle.  What does one say to a friend of distance who is going to row through a river of hell to find peace? I really would like to talk to her - but again, what do I say? 

We all have our crosses to bear, but the diagnosis and the accompanying struggles to find some sort of plan and some sort of peace must be mind boggling.  I am such a coward, if/when I get that diagnosis (and mine will likely be Alzheimer's) what does a girl do?  The coward part of me says that I don't want any pain for me or my family.  No tubes.  No respirators.  No surgeries that will only prolong things.  Give me medical marijuana.  Morphine, and the button needs to be in my hand please.  For the record, as I haven't gotten around to making a will, I'd like Michala to take care of Butterball.  I'd like to be creamated and scattered on a beach under a full moon.  If there is any money to be had, please let it go to Tom and his family.  Talk to George Doherty of ING.  Cripes, this is almost enough for me to remember that I'm a primary careviver to my terminal Alzheimer's mommo and that's going to be a rough journey for her and for all of us as well.

OK time to put this to bed.  I need to try to gain some perspective and try to find a way to talk with Carole about the mountains she has to climb.  With luck, I can help.  Love you all.

Chocolate chip cat food

So, last week as I went up the front steps to mom's house, the neighborhood cat (who lives down the street but wanders around from house to house looking for handouts) was sitting on her front stoop.  He had one ear back and was giving me what I considered a dirty look.  As I got closer, I saw what the problem was.  Mom had filled his dish with chocolate chips instead of meow mix!  Yikes, no wonder the dirty look!  Anyway, I swapped out the feed and he was happy.  Just another in a long line of new events . . .

Speaking of cats, mom has a favorite cat that she often thinks is real.  She talks with it and sleeps with it and pets and loves it.  This item was a gift from my former husband to me.  Upon receiving it, I had to tell him that I really didn't want him to buy me any more gifts that were made of real fur (in this case, probably rabbit or skunk), but thanked him just the same.  Mom pulled it out of former's house when my brother bought the property and was clearing it out.  Now this kitty lives and sleeps with her. 

I've been noticing lately that mom is really tired.  Yesterday she was still in bed when Tom got there at 9:15.  I arrived at 10:30 to find her still asleep and very reluctant to wake.  Much cajoling finally got her out of bed, face washed, pill taken, tea and toast for breakfast.  When her date arrived at 12:30, she was finally showing some signs of life.  And mom isn't the only one who is tired.  Tom has been sick, Mike is back in town and sick too.  That leaves the bulk of care to me this week, and I'm tired too.  I have trouble believing that this could actually go on for another 20 years, but it could.  I won't last that long though.

Well, time to gird my loins, get in the car, and go do a double shift.  I will have to squeeze the rubber chicken especially hard, I think, to get some laughter started.  Till next time friends!