Saturday, January 3, 2009

April

From Tim, her beloved, as she was mine

I am making a decision on Cathy's behalf that I believe she would make herself if she were here to make it.
I am removing her last post, which concerned our daughter April.
April and Cathy have had their fair share of difficulties throughout this journey, maybe more than their share.
There are a myriad of reasons behind these troubles. April has certainly battled many personal demons in recent years, and some of the scars from those battles still surface occasionally. And some of Cathy's own struggles are well documented right here on this blog.
There is no denying that they both have always been very quick to voice their opinions, often without thinking as long as one might wish beforehand.
There is also no denying that the bond between them is strong. Strong enough to have survived any attempt to disolve it, no matter how hard they sometimes tried. Cathy herself actually defended April's actions, even as she felt the hurt they caused, by writing that she believed these actions were a sub-conscious self defense to make the inevitable loss of the one person who has always believed in her easier to bear.
Cathy's last post was a response to a letter she recieved from April. She wrote the response here because she knew how much I hated the conflicts between them, and almost always tried to keep me out of them, but needed to vent her frustration somewhere.
Cathy had no way of knowing that that post would be her last one on this blog, and I believe she would not have wanted it to remain, especially after the beautiful way that they ended their time together in this physical world. Just as with my beloved and me, I know that the seperation is only here in this world. The bond will always exist. I, along with April, Timmy, and Taylor, and our grandchildren as well, will always be connected to Cathy.
I started to simply delete this post, erase all signs of it, but it tells a part of the story that Cathy wanted to tell. And a couple of the comments that follow tell a more important part of the story. When the final chapter was written the bond between Mother and Daughter, even if that bond was not born of blood, was stronger than any force that tried to break it. April was right there with Taylor and myself every moment of Cathy's last few days on this earth and the two of them shared a lifetime's worth of love and reconciliation in that oh-too-short of a time.

Cathy started her post like this -

"I have tried so hard to not let this blog become a forum for anger towards anyone - I even wrote it a few days ago. In several posts I have mentioned April or " April's attacks". I have to say/ shout this out loud and I can't talk about it to anyone in the family."

She ended it with -

"I don't even know if I would want her to be around me as the last weeks and days come to an end - hopefully that won't be for a few more years."

She obviously had a change of heart, even though she did not get the few more years we were so hoping for.
So I have kept the last words she wrote here intact as she wrote them, but I know her better than anyone else could ever dream of, and I think I have done as she would have done herself, given the opportunity.

Her journey here has ended, and it ended as she would have wanted it to. With those she loved surrounding her, including her daughter April

Friday, January 2, 2009

I had another PET Scan today but it was too late in the day to get any results back. Last time I really felt like things would be OK and they were - kind of - the scan looked OK but my numbers were going up. I don't have a clue about this one - I don't want anything to show up but I want to know why I'm having so much trouble breathing, and why I keep loosing wait.

I'm so sick of all this - this constant feeling of someone / something is always just a step or two behind me. This has really bothered me since I got out of the hospital in Aug. I know that that whole experience shook my feeling of control and safety. Of course April's attack didn't help at all.
Also, I have never gotten back to my former energy levels.

If I was on the outside looking in and didn't know about all the physical things going on, I would simply see a very depressed person. So, am I depressed? Am I depressed because I'm so tired of all this crap and tired of not feeling well. Or, is it the other away around - depression is making me feel so bad.

I spend a lot of time feeling guilty - guilty that I don't cook but 1 or 2 night a week, I clean even less. I feel guilty that I can't keep Gage full time without becoming completely overwhelmed. He has been out of school for a while. I feel so bad for Tim - we can count on one hand how many times we have had sex in the past 2 years.

Then there's the shame, am I acting, is all of this really happening, I should be able to control this. Thoughts like " Get over it Cathy and put your big girl panties". "Cathy, why are you doing this to your family, to Tim, get a dam job". All this guilt and shame eventually turn into self hate. Then the thought process changes and sounds like this - "You deserve this, deserve to be treated this way by some family members". " This is you own fault". There are many more voices but they would not make any sense unless I spent about 2 days trying to explain.

Even though it has been several months since I was in the hospital, I have recently gotten new info about some of the things that were happening. First, I remember, vaguely, talking to Jeanine and another nurse about protocols for putting me on a vent. We were in some type procedure room - I never really put in real meaning to their question. Then I found out this week that the Dr's came in to talk to Tim and me about the possibility of placing me on a vent - I don't remember any of that. I also found out that when I woke up and couldn't remember why I was in the hospital - that it was several days before my memory came back. I thought I remembered as soon as some one explained it to me. I ask Jeanine about it on Xmas and she said that she felt that it was due to my declining kidney function.