CharmingBitch

The One About My Dad.

Sorry my sugah butts I am not even going to try and explain this or make it make sense. Just gotta get this off my heart before it renders me without breath. Uuuuh-gain. Some more.

You know, it is one thing to lose a child. No matter when it happens, how it happens, if you orchestrate the last day by stopping treatment, there is never enough time to say everything you want, to spend the time you need and to kiss kiss kiss their little defenseless heads enough. There is no enough, there is no too much, there is no fulfillment, satiation is not possible.

My son, my Jackson, was taken from me literally within minutes of being born. I didn't get to hold him, I barely got to see him before he was whisked away. Then he was stolen, oh you're damn right, stolen from me and taken to an altogether different hospital while I was unable to move with him. Finally, I was able to go to him, then to another hospital. But still no touching, no holding, no loving. Just suits and tubes and wires and glass between us. I never got to hold him skin to skin until the last day. Oh my heart, just typing that sentence burns me, flames lick at my skin, my arms ache and my stomach burns. Oh my little man, my baby, I am so sorry. You needed love and touch and kindness all those days, not solitary confinement from the people who love you so, so much.

And that is the distinction. I could keep writing about my love, my baby but it's all summed up completely by just saying, it was never enough. It could never be enough. I hear him everyday, I talk to him everyday, I hear him cry in my dreams, he will always be here because it will never be enough, the bleeding ebbs but is never staunched.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

Things that need to stop right now, no seriously, I need this shit to quit like yesterday:

1. Cancer doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. I mean, yes, in some very limited circumstance pulling the cancer card is both needed and effective. Balling up inside yourself and deciding everyone else can cater to you or fuck off, no. Not how the big wide world works, champs. These are the things you learn when surrounded by people with The Cancer. Accept it and get on with getting on or lay down and die. Just don't get your stank vibes on me in the process.
2. So. My dad is buried in a National cemetery. Meaning, they have rules and standards and everything pretty much has to be the same. Not identical, no but the headstone size is limited as are the characters on said headstone or grave marker. Limited to 25 spaces we chose ''Beloved Husband Dad and Papa'' because, you see, logic would dictate that in order to be any of those things, he was first a son. Right? Right. Unless you are my dad's mom and feel the need to get butt-hurt because ''son'' wasn't specifically listed. Just a note: I DO NOT CARE ONE BIT ABOUT ANYONE'S BUTTHURTEDNESS REGARDING MY DAD'S OBIT, HEADSTONE, CASKET, SERVICES OR MANNER OF DEATH.
3. I have lost a son. Not a 62 year old son who had created his own life, career and family outside his family of origin. I lost an infant son and therefore I cannot compare the two situations in any real way except to say: Mourn him, grieve the loss and honor his memory and STOP SHITTING ON HIS FAMILY NOW THAT HE ISN'T HERE TO REFEREE THE BULLSHIT.
4. And another thing, I had never had chance to write an obituary for my dad before he actually, you know, died. I didn't look up etiquette books or skim current death notices to ''learn'' how to do it properly, apparently. I listed my mom, my sister and I, all the grandkids and then his mom, sisters, brothers and others. Fair enough, I thought. Noooooooooooooooooooo, his mom is AGAIN super extra butt-hurt that she, as his mother, wasn't listed first.
5. Wait a minute, you lost your oldest son, the cream of the crop, the absolute prize pig, pick of the litter (nah, I'm not biased, he honestly was the favorite kid, favorite son, favorite grandkid, favorite cousin, nephew, uncle, TRUE FACT) and you're upset about where you landed in HIS OBITUARY. Go fuck yourself. No, really. Twice on Sunday because I have no time for such foolishness.
6. Again, I have seriously and honestly tried to keep in mind that people mourn differently, people act out in ways not normal to their usual ways when faced with seemingly insurmountable grieving. I get that, I really do but no, this isn't acceptable to lash out about to me or anyone else, it really, really is not.
7. This same person, my dad's mom, believes I am a terrible, awful person for having custody of my sister's kids. Because my sister isn't cracked out of her mind and her husband isn't a substance abusing alcoholic. Nah, they just had a, ''little problem'' that I ''over-reacted'' to and convinced D to ''go along with'' for my own personal benefit.
8. I just, ....really? Re: #7. I cannot wrap my head around it. At all. And am so done defending myself and really, my sister's actions. Talk to her about it if you think I am so foul. Oooooooh, right. You can't. Because she is too busy out getting cracked to talk to you. Right. Right. I totally over-stepped.
9. Just as an aside, tied to nothing, Trader Joe's isn't some bougie, boutique high priced grocery store. Granted, I could never do all my shopping there but their prices, particularly on their store brand, are crazy reasonable. D spent $200 there one time when we first moved to Vancouver and I was shocked; I can drop $200 in a regular grocery easily and not blink, even when it was just D and I but to spend that much in TJ's you have to be determined like a mofo. Anyway, have seen too many references to it being on par with Whole Foods lately and I assure you I would never spend a single dollar in WF but I loved having TJ's as an option when we were in the NW and I have to wonder if the people making the comparison to WF have ever stepped foot in TJ's. Mmmm their frozen enchiladas still make my mouth water.
10. Look, I get the need for physical therapy given how long I have been in the hospital and how long I will likely remain but mother fuck me, physical therapy plus chemotherapy seems a bit, no a lot, cruel. I am exhausted every single day but I know just by virtue of the piss and vinegar I am now feeling full of that I am getting better but DAMN, a bitch needs a day off once in a while, you know? Am whining, I know but if I blame it on the cancer, all is forgiven, right (see #1, heh).

Thanks for listening you beautiful people. Off to more physical therapy. Gaaaaaaaah.

Things easier to write than to say

My husband:

1. Loves me and our children with his whole heart. Unconditionally.
2. Takes excellent care of himself in order to take excellent care of his family.
3. Is in awesome shape, meaning it is awesome to rub up on his shape.
4. He is a much better cook than me but only rarely reminds me of this fact.
5. When I had hair, D loved to brush it. Now without hair, he rubs my head with lotion.
6. He has never once complained about how hard my illness has been on him.
7. And lord, it has been hella hard on him. A sick wife and four kids is a big load to carry on a good day. These days it's really unfathomable.
8. When we had to make decisions about Jackson's care and eventually stopping treatment it was a heavy load but one we carried together. That man, alone, had to make almost split second decisions about my health without a team-mate minus a partner.
9. When I think about the responsibility I put on his shoulders I cringe for him. Not for me because I was in the best hands.
10. I could never find another man who would praise my ''leadership'' instead of calling me a sometimes strident, impossible to please harridan. Because sometimes, I am just that exactly. Silver lining, he seeks it, obviously.
11. The kids all and I do mean all prefer D over me. And as I know I am pretty dang good to them, that says a lot about him. He is a freaking fantastic father.
12. He treats our girls like precious jewels and showers them with affection.
13. He treats our boys like precious jewels and showers them with affection.
14. Although both of our girls are (not even kidding folks) beautiful to a ridiculous degree he praises their intelligence first, always. They both finished the year on honor roll.
15. When I was sobbing about my hot mess of a snatch, D just said it's okay, it will be fine. I didn't marry you for your hair, I didn't marry you for your pussy fancy place.
16. I stopped sobbing and started counting my blessings, literally.
17. He mourned my dad not just as a father in law but as a friend. Those two were tight and it is comforting to share my grief, as with Jackson, with someone who gets what a loss my dad was not just to his family but to everyone who knew him.
18. D has made certain that I and more importantly the kids know that if anything were to happen to me, now in the immediate future or ever, they will stay with him.
19. If you read number 18 and didn't at least tear up, read it again. That is a man right there, in every sense of the word.
20. I love love love you, D. But the dog stays, she's part of the package!

Things easier to write than to say

My wife:

1. Is a natural born leader. It's native to who she is and how she lives and SURVIVES.
2. She is a mother in her soul and it shows.
3. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle with our kids ad their hearts.
4. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle with my heart.
5. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle in spirit, honestly.
6. She always hugs helllo and kisses goodbye.
7. My dad loves the goodbye kisses. Took him by surprise at first.
8. Her dog is crazy. Crazy insane and untrainable and she loves her with her whole heart.
9. NO REALLY THAT DOG IS NUTS. I am an aniamal lover across the board and I cannot get on board with that damn idiot dog. CRAZY.
10. Maybe though that is why Shannon loves her so much. Who else would?
11. One of the worst argument we ever had was about using fabric softener on towels.
12. She is shockingly passionate about never doing that, ever.
13. It's funny now but at the time I thought she was going to have a stroke.
14. I love her passion, even when it's misguided and misdirected.
15. I love it the most when it's guided and directed to me.
16. Trite but true, she is the smartest person I know. And I know a few people.
17. The only advice her dad ever gave me was that Shannon has never done a damn thing she hasn't wanted to do. Truer words never spoken, DAMN.
18. The kids are lucky to have her but I am blessed to have her.
19. The kids aren't optional for her but I know that I am and that she chose me and chooses to stay reminds me that some of the best things in life aren't in our control.
20. I love you Shannon. I love you I love you I love you.

Cancer Confessions

Ok just to be clear, I am high as a kite right now on some glorious mixture of painkillers that I don't even question and just swallow down like a good little patient. Apologies in advance for tangents, nonsensical and otherwise.

Anyway. With all the news about famous cancer patients (ie Farrah, Patrick Swayze), the recurring non-truth I hear espoused is that getting diagnosed with cancer is a life changing event, like right in the moment that the C Word is applied to you and/or your person. And I am only one person and can only speak from my experience but that wasn't what happened to me or many of the people I have talked to in the same shoes.

Truthfully, I was more put out at the idea of the time and expense of cancer than I was aware of the potential for death. I know, I know. Cancer is something we're all supposed to fear but I think a combination of things, namely that I was told initally it was pre-cancerous growths at worst and therefore had moved beyond being afraid of the real deal and also that we had so much other going on at the time (deaths deaths deaths, moving cross country, picking up a fourth kid along the way) that I was just like, fuck me. Seriously? Cancer? I have no time for cancer. Fuck cancer in the eye, I will give it none of my valuable resources, so there, deadly tissue, put that in your pipe and smoke it, bitch.

Yeah, I know. But honestly, I had so much other going on, you know, ''valid'' concerns (ha) that I was just pissed. Like cancer was some additional chore on my already full To Do list and I would get to it, eventually, but I wasn't going to be happy about it and I was damn sure not rearranging my life around it.

In my defense, when I was told I had cancer, at the time of the original diagnoses, it was also presented to me as something of a cancer-lite. Stage one, a few rounds of chemo and you will be rearing to go again in no time. And I believed that shit, full stop.

Now here is where I recognize a tangent coming on and warn you in advance but rather than advising you to skip it, I plead with you to stay with me for a minute. There is almost no such thing as finding Ovarian cancer stage one; by the time  you're having symptoms, it's almost assured it's already progessed to Stage two. Now, yes, yes, there ARE some people ''lucky'' enough to catch things before they go wild in a regular once-a-year screening. Not often, but yes fortunately, it does happen on occasion.

In other news, my snatch is a hot mess.

You people have been so freaking awesome. Thank you so much for essentially babysitting D last week on Twitter. Man was freaking out, heh. Naw, I don't mean to make light of it or of him. I have no idea what I would have done in his position. So many decisions to make and not a lot of time to ponder, really.

That said, holy shit balls, my snatch is a hot mess. Now granted, I had a 10+ pound baby vaginally so I know from a hot mess below the border. Jackson tore me a new one, literally. The squeamish amongst us can avert their eyes now but I tore this way (indicating sideways) and that way (indicating up and down). Like a cross, you see. It was horrifying and for the love of (not)fuck(ing) it took a long time to heal correctly but it did eventually heal.

But I am all hooked up and wired up and catheterized up at the moment so I can't really ''see'' for myself and I cannot trust what I'm ''feeling'' down there because, hello, it took me two days to realize all the talk of heart surgery and a stint was actually about me (I thought the bandages on my chest were...decorative? I dunno.) so I very, very stupidly asked for a mirror and an assist from my trusty husband who initially said not no but HELL NO because, well, I don't really know the why other than he was hoping for a miraculous recovery before I could get a good look-see.

Oh my hell, let's just say I ''won'' that battle of wills and document this because I'm only saying it once but, MAN, was he right. Nobody needs to see that kind of horror without copious amounts of liquor and a cash incentive. See, they told me there may, MAY, be a need for a ''small incision'' but it was not likely as the equipment was made and the surgery was planned for needing only a small amount of um, space. LIIIIIIARS!!! Naw, really, I'm not mad at anybody, just stunned at the handiwork. Yes, yes indeed they needed to make a ''small incision''. Shit looks like a road map to Siberia, I am not even kidding. I have not a single clue how long my designer original vadge will take to heal or what the ultimate functionality of it will be but whatever, I am so happy the surgeries were successful.

My only real question was why they didn't do something about the hemmoroids while they were down there, you know? What? I PUSHED FOR HOURS TO FORCE A TEN POUND BABY OUT OF MY BODY. You bet YOUR ass there remains a hemi or nine in the rear compartment.

I'm sorry if this is reading a little jumbled. I really just wanted to tell you guys thanks again for being such great support to Deels and my family. Right now, things look good (my snatch excepted, ha) and the plan is about another month in the hospital, still more chemo (now that it may have a chance to actually work), radiation and a truck load of antibiotics. Amazingly my fever has held the last several days at right below 100 which is not much above where it averages normally. I can seriously, no seriously, count on both hands the number of days since I had Jackson that I haven't had a fever (for those playing along at home, that is over two and a half years). Yes, seriously.

So all things considered, I'm doing just fine and am unbelievably blessed. D's parents and my mom have been PRICELESS in this whole debacle and my kids, oh my stinking ass rotten tearing this hospital down one brick at a time kids, they have been awesome beyond what anyone should expect of babes of their ages. First thing Sue asked upon hearing the whole 17 pounds explanation was a wide eyed inquiry of, ''OH WOW! Can I see it??!!'' She's a mess but lordy majority do I love them all. And I love you all, too from the bottom of my shag nasty nethers to the tip of my artificially stinted open heart (hee), I love you guys. Thanks again, innernetz.

17 Pounds

So they say her surgery this morning was a success. 17 lbs of tumors and diseased tissue was removed from her. SEVENTEEN POUNDS. This is plus the more than 10 lbs removed the first time. My wife was carrying around almost 30 pounds of shit that was killing her, including scar tissue that was not letting all the meds work as they should.

SEVENTEEN POUNDS. She is in recovery now but I still haven't been able to see her, to touch her, to kiss her sweet fucking face. My christ I have missed my wife. She is my damn best friend, you know. The Drs are all high fiving each other and huggung me and the kids but I want to SEE HER. They are very impressed witht the results of this surgery and said going back in now was the right best thing to do which is good right because that's what we did already so no second guessing now.

People, seventeen pounds!! I don't know. Seeing it in a number like that, like the first ten pounds just makees it more real to me, what my wife was carrying around. The illness inside of her, refusing to get better. Almost 30 pounds altogether, does that even seem real or right? how did she make it this long?? How did she...?? How was she living? I mean fuck. THat is a lot of disease to carry around plus the weight of just living this life.

Shannon Aileen you better KNOW I lvoe you, girl. Am cryingmy face off right now and I don't know what else to do but spit it out here. The kids are thrilled,  my parents are bouncing off the walls but I am just stunned that you're here, waiting for us, waiting for me, we're waiting for you to wake up but you're here, oh Shannon, I love you baby. Please don't be mad when you wake up and see what I let them do to you, I had to do it and I thkn I did right. 17 says I did? I don't know whatever, be mad babygirl but just be here.

So there it is for nmow, 17 lbs and waiting in recovery. Should be up in one or two hours. Thanks you guys.

Surgery Part III

Well I said I would not give the ok for more surgery until Shannon was awake and aware of the choices/consequences but I think I have no other choice. They want to go in vaginally again and get what they couldn't get the first time b/cause there was just so much and they were worried about keeping her under for so long. Which turned out valid seeing as she had unexpected surgery later because of it. Waiting also means the vaginal incision made already will have time to ''heal'' and it will be worse and more likely to get infected if it's allowed to heal and then has to be re-opened. God this is surreal talking so much about my wife's vagina to the internet.

So the vent is still down to 10% but she is nowhere near being chohrent or un-sedated but I have to go with my gut. Surgery in the morning at 8am and hopefully it won't take more than 2-3 hours. More hopefully we are on the downward slide and this is close to being over for Shannon. This has been a very long week and it's the longest I have went w/out talking to Shannon since I met her years ago. Even it was 2 seconds to say I love you babe, we have talked every single day and I can't even tell you how much I miss her and not to mention how much I hope like shit I am making the right decision.

Will keep you guys posted, thanks again for the concern.

Update

Sorry for being so demanding on Twitter last night. Yesterday was a really bad day.

Shan had surgery that lasted hours longer than we expected and could not breathe on her own for hours in recovery. She had a second unplanned surgery to put a stint in her heart, the first surgery really did about kill her. But ut was considered a success because they were able to remover a lot of diseased tissue and tumors. Like POUNDS of the shit that was killing her. No comment to what I said when they said ''success'' when my wife wasn't waking up.

The whole reason they refused surgery for so long was because of the MRSA and they didn't want to risk incisions getting infected or having her ''open'' long enough to complete debulking surgery on her ovaries. They did the first procedure vaginally and promised her there would be no need for an incision or basicallly an episiotomy. They were wrong. So she will wake up having been split from asshole to appetite seriously and oh my god, I am glad won't have to be the one to answer for that shit. No kidding. But thank the Gods, the universe, the power of love that she will at least be here to be mad. I almost lost my wife. Christ.

She is still in the woods this morning but the vent is down to about 20% now. She is very sedated but may be taken off the vent today or tomorrow. She is also on mega antibiotics to prayerfully head off her being septic again, her white count is in the tens of thousands still ---with normal being about 10-12k--but really that is not that much out of the normal for Shan because of the MRSA. What a fucking day and night. What a fucking life.

I don't know if Shan has told you that we sometimes call her ''coach'' because when she gets sick of the noise or bickering or everyone talking at once she will say Guys. Guys. GUYS. And man, once she gets to that 3rd GUYS, it's over. She claps her hands clap clap clap and says Enough! Enough! Let's get it together, act like we know what we're doing! It drives the kids crazy because she says it so seriously but really she just wants to choke the chaos and get them refocused. The kids occupied themselves for a lot of yesterday by clapping and GUYing themselves into giggles. They love her so much. Almost as much as she loves them.

I will keep you guys posted and thank you for endulging me last night when I was in such a panic. I never want another night like that but thanks very much for being there for us.

I win Mother's Day Schmother's Day

from suzanne harry and james

l  to me

show details 11:14 AM (5 hours ago)

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nannon  i love you so much because you are my best friend. happy mother's day