Try coming up with that grand illusion again. What I have feared:
1. My mother leaving our dad with us and moving us 1500 miles away, only to find out, two weeks later, she is dying from cancer.
2. I'm my little brother's godmother. I was raised Catholic, so that means something specific, and yet I was just born again, and on my mother's death bed she had me promise to raise my little brother in the RCC. Do I break my wrod or do I figure out how to raise him Catholic but have him realize what salvation in Christ is?
3. Mom dies, and I am forced back to live with a Dad who managed to avoid me all my life, because I have to take care of that little brother I promised I would.
4. I'm also facing one horrible fact, and I can't talk to anyone about it, becaise I'm moving 1500 miles away. WoFers (before there was such a phrase) promised me that, because they laid hands on Mom and prayed, she would be healed.I'm barely 16 years old, and they laid that on me and weren't around when Mom died.
5. Realizing I have four years of college to get a degree and yet I can't get the degree in the one an only job I know, because I stink at it.
6. Being raped by five guys.
7. Going through drug rehab, (because let's face it, by now God has certianly not lived up to his end of the bargain according to all those WoFers taught me.)
8. Trying to figure out what I do with my life with one very useless college degree.
9. Two years and two days after I married the dearest man, he breaks his back and cannot work. I've been trying the housewife thing, so I'm not working.
10. Being threatened by the IRS on a Friday night 5 minutes before their computers go down that if we don't give them the rest of the $10,000 we owe, (oh, and BTW they know about that because that's what they decided we owed after telling us we needed to show all our records for the last seven years. Try that some time, when three of those year's records were thrown out by the ex-wife. And we had been giving them $300 every two weeks for a year by then, as they promised us we could do) by Monday at 9 AM, (and this was back in the days when banks were closed for the weekend.)
11. Finding out husband's job will be terminated, after being promised you can keep your governmental job until you retire. (I had just started my own business, so it had to fly well before he was terminated.)
12. Having to give up my business because removing one little gallbladder came with taking me off the operating table and pinching my back in jkust the right spot that the pain radiated right to where the gall bladder used to be, and because no doctor wanted to admit their friend, the surgeon, might have screwed up, no one bothered telling me the cause of that pain for 15 years. By then it was too late in so many ways.
13. Realizing God's plan for our life was for us to live on 60% of what we were used to living on. (Sure enough, the business finally made money the same month the gallbladder was removed, and that was the same month my husband lost his governmental job.) Hubby got into the computer field then, which was fairly lively to fix the Y2K Bug.
14. Realizing that fixing the Y2K bug, plus many dotcom businesses failed, and then many more businesses failed when planes couldn't roam the skies for three days after terrorist demolished the Trade Center, all helped tank the computer field. I'm disabled and he can't find a new job.
15. Then he's too tired to go to job interviews. And then he had a blind spot in the center of his eye that bothered him enough that he went to the eye doctor, who immediately sent him to his primary, because that blind spot was a burst blood vessel. Any other burst blood vessels in his head would have been a stroke. He had high blood pressure.
16. Oh, and when the blood tests came back, he also had Hep C. The same day we ran out of savings! BUT, he wasn't depressed! His liver was being destroyed.
17. 24 weeks of chemo for him. He just started when our COBRA ran out. (AKA 18 months after his last job.) Got on Welfare which got us on Medicaid, so we had insurance, but the insurance really had to make sure all the I's wew dotted and the T's were crossed. If he missed any chemo treatments he had to start over again. (Welfare also gave us names of lawyers who did pro bono work. He got that delayed vial 7 AM on Christmas Eve, so he'd be too sick to celebrate Christmas, but he didn't have to start over.)
18. WHICH also happened to be when our foreclosure came in the mail. And the utility companies were getting upset that we weren't paying our full bills, because the onlt money we were living on was the $839 I got from Disability, plus the $258 food stamps.
19. Saved the house, mostly because I didn't want him to be on treatment while living in our car.
20. The chemo disables him by hiding another health problem -- diabetes. He got neuropathy, which causes him to have bad balance, plus he had something like Turret Syndrome, which tends to make idiots laugh at him, and he has something the VA refuses to acknowledge as a real disability called CFS. He's disabled too.
21. SSDI doctor lies about my husband's symptoms, so SSDI only gives him back pay for after he went through 24 WEEKS of treatment. (Most people treated for HepC don't make it through treatement, because it's that hard. It IS that hard!)
22. Dad comes down with dementia.
23. The VA catches a cyst on hubby's kidneys. 85% chance of it being cancer. They want to make a 14 inch incision to cut it out and then give him more chemo. (He knows what chemo is like by now.) The surgeon is reall a resident talking to him, and let's it slip about something calle "cryoblation." We have a week before the surgery to find out what that is and if he can get it. It's inserting a very long needle into him and freezing the cyst, befor removing it for biopsy. It's also an outpatient procedure. He gets that. Whew!
24. The cops call asking me if I know my dad. (They give me his name, of course.) He has been driving who-knows-where for 13 hours to get a haircut at the Senior Center half an hour from his house, but on the wrong day.
25. Dad tells me my older brother is over reacting over a little fire in his yard. Brother tells me that "little fire" was Dad's 16 foot long by 4 foot high woodpile burning completely down, so Dad had to have been watching it burn for hours. A neighbor called the fire department. Dad tips them ten bucks for helping him.
26. Hubby gets a strange case of indigestion one night, but he looks it up on Google and is sure it's indigestion. It sticks around. Two days later he tells me he can't breath when he lies down so he tries to sleep sitting up. Two days after that I finally take him to the VA's ER. He didn't just have a heart attack, he was still having a heart attack. They used the word "massive" and look at me odd for trying to explain that he said it was indigestion, because Google said. They tell him he's dying. If he isn't vented, immediately, he will die. The last words I heard hubby say for two months were "Holy Sh..!" Something something stents. Something something over at the next hospital. Not sure he'd make it and the other hospital is "a block away." (Two blocks. I wasn't allowed in the ambulance." Only thing hubby remembers is he was in a corridor and someone said, "This one won't make it." Hours later, something something, "how far do you want us to go." "As far as you would take it if it were you." Hours later, he was being wheeled into ICU.
27. Lived on an ECMO for nine days. The limit was ten. Pneumonia. An infection so bad it made the pneumonia look like good times. The Intensivist told me had 35 patients in critical condition but hubby was in the worse shape. He said, "that first night, he only had a 10% chance of surviving that night. He now has a 50% chance of surviving until tomorrow." He made it, but his kidneys shut down. Worse yet, they never told me they shut down. He was on dialysis for three days. And 31 days after I got him to the hospital, they finally replaced a blown valve in his heart. December 23.
28. Meanwhile, Dad is frantic. The laws in PA (where he lives) say that a person decides if they want to go into a mental facility. Dad needed two kinds. One to dry out. (He's an alcoholic, which is NOT a good thing to be with dementia, because you already forget if you have a drink, so he had eight drinks around the house at any given moment.) And one to live in after he dried out. And although he can't remember why or what, he knows something is up and maybe one of his kids will have pity on him. What's up is the oldest son, the one he told to do this if it ever needed doing, was taking the proper steps to protect Dad by getting him inpatient help. Dementia tells the patient that they have to stay in the familiar. And familiar to Dad is home. So while I'm waiting to here from the hospital when John's valve will be replaced, Dad's calling me 13 times a day. He doesn't know why other than something is wrong. And he can't remember he can't call me because I have to find out what's happening with John. Vague registry that something is wrong with him, but little does he know that vague memory is because I just told him that AGAIN a minute ago. For the first time in my life I did the impossible. I hung up on Dad. It was 1 AM and he still hadn't gotten I can't deal with him calling. When John's reconering from the operation Dad starts up again. This time he's mad at my brother for bringing cops to his house to take away his loaded gun (my brother thought he got all Dad's guns years before) after Dad threaded many times to use it. (We will never know if he was going to kill himself, my brother, or my sister.)
29. John has completely lost two months of his life. He doesn't even remember the indigestion. This is good, because during that two months he was getting a Stage Four Bedsore, and hurting his hip in a too small bed.
30. God was good one particular day. (Every day, but along with John's miracle of being alive, this was the other moment I saw God in action. I said the only thing Dad wanted was to stay in his house. He has no idea he had become a hoarder and that he was living in black mold. His lawyer went to court with him. And during that time in court, the judge got Dad to say four times that he was willing to go in for treatment and then go in for assited living. This is not Dad. Dad would never do that. This is a miracle from God.
31. And it happened right about the time John has his first memory. He learned David Bowie had died. (He couldn't talk with the vent still in him, and he was completely atrophied, so it took a lot of work for him to point at the right letters.)
32. In the seven months he was in the hospital, he received at least 50 units of blood. He was leaking from the blood thinners. The VA hospital is as bad as it was when it made it on the news. The VA nursing home is a bit better. He was put in the nursing home 4 months after being in the hospital, but was returned to the hospital four times in the three months he was in the nursing home.
33. He came home on June 23rd, supposedly well enough to take steps. He wasn't. Our bathroom is on the second floor. So is his bed.
34. He is now upstairs asleep in his bed. (I have insomnia.) Last February his heart worked at 100%. Last Tuesday we were told that it is only working at 80% now. Apparently, it's good that he has no chest pain, except he never had any chest pain. It felt like indigestion. This Thursday they're doing another test on his heart. We fear it means hie goes back into THAT hospital.
35. Burpees is having a sale on tomatoes. I'd like to buy some, because we love a good tasty tomato, (which you can't buy in stories anymore), except I remember not having time to play with my garden much last year, because of visiting John. Now I'm stuck deciding should I buy the tomatoes, or not.
THAT'S the stuff I fear. So want to go through that again, on how much power I personally have? The way I see it is no matter what I've gone through or am going through, God is with me taking me by the hand. There is no choice but to go through it. He knows me. He knows I much prefer the quiet life. Apparently I get that only at times. He's fixing me the hard way.