I am unhappy
Jul. 14th, 2003 04:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcPhone calls at 02h00 rarely bring glad tidings of great joy.
It turns out Ma nearly died last week. She was calling "to let me know she's out of the hospital and doing much better." Better than ???
Ma has advanced emphysema, the price paid for a 40 a day habit for nearly 40 years. Gawd I fucking hate tobacco companies, who are only rivaled by pharmaceuticals in terms of their odiousness. She's been pretty much an invalid for a couple of years, and has been on 16 hours of treatements (vapourized meds, as well as oxygen) for 3 or so years. Though the last few months she's been on oxygen virtually 24/7. About 10 days ago she woke up and couldn't get her breath. At all. She had a GP appointment that morning, but en route she diverted dad to emerge. Officer Paddy Boy Da floored, ran red lights, negotiated he was out of a speeding ticket and got her to Peninsual General lickety split.
Though I can't imagine it could ever be fast enough when you can't breathe. "I think I'm gonna die today," she told Da. Poor Da.
Poor Ma. Poor us.
I have very mixed feelings right now. Ma and Da aren't monsters, but they could probably write a book entitled "How to raise your effeminate son to loathe himself." Products of their environs, which contextualizes it but doesn't make it OK. A long time ago I had to let go of the notion that Ma could provide me the sort of emotional support/nurturing I need. She's always been a fiery advocate for her kids with the rest of the world, but in her interactions with me a lot to be desired. There's a bunch of stories here (her parents, alcoholism, religion), and I don't have the wherewithall to recount any of them now. Or here for that matter--her life, her privacy.
She's doing better now, but it's apparent that she may not make it until the end of 2003. So getting back to NY at least once before then has to become a priority. We have unfinished business--not necessarily any particular subjects--we have a lot to say to one another still. Including, despite everything, "I love you Ma."
No more right now...
It turns out Ma nearly died last week. She was calling "to let me know she's out of the hospital and doing much better." Better than ???
Ma has advanced emphysema, the price paid for a 40 a day habit for nearly 40 years. Gawd I fucking hate tobacco companies, who are only rivaled by pharmaceuticals in terms of their odiousness. She's been pretty much an invalid for a couple of years, and has been on 16 hours of treatements (vapourized meds, as well as oxygen) for 3 or so years. Though the last few months she's been on oxygen virtually 24/7. About 10 days ago she woke up and couldn't get her breath. At all. She had a GP appointment that morning, but en route she diverted dad to emerge. Officer Paddy Boy Da floored, ran red lights, negotiated he was out of a speeding ticket and got her to Peninsual General lickety split.
Though I can't imagine it could ever be fast enough when you can't breathe. "I think I'm gonna die today," she told Da. Poor Da.
Poor Ma. Poor us.
I have very mixed feelings right now. Ma and Da aren't monsters, but they could probably write a book entitled "How to raise your effeminate son to loathe himself." Products of their environs, which contextualizes it but doesn't make it OK. A long time ago I had to let go of the notion that Ma could provide me the sort of emotional support/nurturing I need. She's always been a fiery advocate for her kids with the rest of the world, but in her interactions with me a lot to be desired. There's a bunch of stories here (her parents, alcoholism, religion), and I don't have the wherewithall to recount any of them now. Or here for that matter--her life, her privacy.
She's doing better now, but it's apparent that she may not make it until the end of 2003. So getting back to NY at least once before then has to become a priority. We have unfinished business--not necessarily any particular subjects--we have a lot to say to one another still. Including, despite everything, "I love you Ma."
No more right now...
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Date: 2003-07-13 11:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 12:44 am (UTC)I too have dealt with a chronically, slowly spiraling toward terminal illness of a parent with whom the relationship was quite less than perfect. Very, very untidy business, and emotionally treacherous. Finishing business in those circumstances defies the rules.
I wish you much strength and healing for your journey. I am sure you have a bazillion friends who you actually know in RL to talk to, but if I can at all be of help, I'd be glad to do whatever I can.
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Date: 2003-07-14 06:42 pm (UTC)means a lot....merci
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Date: 2003-07-14 04:40 am (UTC)Your parents, my Dad. :(
I'm really sorry you got one of those calls. It sounds serious and I can hear it's raised a big mix of feelings. From the other side of the world, big hugs. I know about the ache when we love them and worry about them and don't get what we need from them and resent them and still love them.
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Date: 2003-07-14 06:43 pm (UTC)exactly....wow, thanks Pete
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Date: 2003-07-14 06:22 am (UTC)*HUG*
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Date: 2003-07-14 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 06:45 pm (UTC)Thanks 'jide
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Date: 2003-07-14 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 02:31 pm (UTC)I was always Mom's son. It makes me go all sniffly to contemplate a world without her. This doesn't relate that much to what you're going through, though, because my family is surpisingly free of drama.
I've been telling her I love her a lot more often, though.
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Date: 2003-07-14 06:47 pm (UTC)