Tears of a clown

My mom and I can't complete a conversation without making each other cry.

We're overwhelmed with life changes ~ and we are the strong ones!

I LOVE...

my new iMac.
I thought my learning curve would be greater but me and the kid have it all figured out!

I've been busy with:

iMac and saving computer files from the (not so) old computer. I may pull the hard drive out of that one and pop in a new one - that's a great P.C.

College research, visits, applications, resumes, etc.

Work and the craziness that entails - reorgs

Committees for senior year all night party next June - I want to work on the decorations committee and get in touch with my inner creativity - they transform the school into something entirely different - the theme is a secret until the evening the kids step into the building - the party starts around 8:30pm until 5 a.m. the next morning (as if I don't already have enough going on!)

Dad, Mom, sis - visiting Dad, keeping Mom balanced, keeping sis sane

the potential of moving next Spring/Summer once the kid goes off to school and more...

and because there will be reorgs at work, I think about reorg-ing me - might be time

Life happens

I'd like to catch up on reading blogs and replying to people but I'm having serious computer issues at home. I'm not able to get on at all but hopefully by Wednesday I'll have everything up and running.

I've been researching and if I have to buy a new computer I'm buying an iMac! I fell in love in the Apple store on the weekend.

Dad is doing okay. We've had a lot of ups and downs these past 10 days but we're trying and trying again.

There are incredibly sad moments. I have such admiration for him throughout this ordeal. A lot has been thrown his way. My mother too, has had so much to deal with, some of it extremely difficult but we're taking care of everything as it comes our way.

My mom is with dad every single day from Noon to 6:30 p.m. If visting hours were earlier on this unit, she'd be there longer. When he was in ICU at the hospital, she was there from the time I dropped her off every morning at 7:30 a.m. until 7:30 p.m. When there were tough days, she slept there overnight right by his side to help him through the night.

My sister and I are there every day visiting. It's not too often that we miss a day. It's important to be there to support mom. She's his advocate, she's his physical therapist, she's his encouragement, she's his aide and/or respiratory therapist when one is not readily available.

All days are not sad. But last week was tough.

Imagine yourself in a bed for 5 months and you feel pretty good with the exception that you're on a ventilator to breathe and your body won't allow you to be off that vent for more than 7 days without having to get placed back on the vent. You haven't had anything to eat or drink in those 5 months. You're unable to have physical therapy to walk and move around because it exhausts your body and every ounce of energy is being reserved for a successful outcome in getting off that vent.

We were so close 10 days ago and he ended up back on the vent. It's difficult but you have to stay positive. I think we all go off into our corners and have our meltdowns in private so as not to upset one another.

Mom takes the brunt. My sister and I still get to have a life outside of all of that and go to work and have recreation time. Mom does not.

I refuse to feel defeated. It's not how I was raised by these parents of mine who every day face struggle and who keep pushing forward.

Torn

I watched dad have a good week last week as he was once again weaned off the ventilator. He became vibrant and had promise. He seemed giddy at the prospect of doing so well and looking forward to getting rehab for his tired limbs.

Each time he has been weaned he reaches 7 days and CO2 builds up in his system preventing him from breathing without the machine. This week was no exception although their approach was slow in order for the best outcome. Everyone, the doctor, nurses, our family were so happy that he was doing so well and we really thought it would be a success.

On Saturday when I went to visit and he was in a deep sleep all during the day, I knew immediately that this was not a good sign. To me in meant that the CO2 was creeping up inside him making him sleep. On Sunday, he looked lethargic and slept some more. The blood gases were borderline which confirmed my fear.

Today, early in the wee hours he was placed on the venitlator once again, unfortunately, proving he is unable to breathe on his own.

I've been angry the past few days leading up to this. Not angry at dad, because I know he's tried. Not angry at God. Just angry. Angry that we can all breathe effortlessly...and dad cannot.

I was torn the past couple days because I could tell he needed to be placed back on the vent. Watching him sleep was like watching his body fail him and I felt like it was doing damage.

I sat with mom today from Noon to 1 p.m. as she wept, and I tried not to, as dad slept. I think this is a different sleep from the past couple days. I worry that these breathing trials, when they fail toward the end might be doing more damage.

His body is becoming more tired. His heart, his lungs, his kidneys. I worry that when he wakes he will become despondent upon learning that he just cannot do this. They indicated that they could try again.

I'm not sure.

I get instant headaches that won't go away no matter what I take.

Last night my mother felt a signal in the middle of the night and woke. This happened to her alot in the beginning and the signals were always right on.

I too felt a signal last night. It was difficult to ignore.

I will shower now to try to feel better and try to act normal the rest of the day. There's an air of gloom hanging over all of us.

Mom doesn't want dad to live on a ventilator. It's not either of their wishes. She made sure I knew this today in case this ever happens to her. She's strong. I know when she says it, she means it.