Phen0m20
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2016
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Hoo boy. So, my life's... well, I need to vent. Probably since the first time since I was a teenager, I'm in a situation where I don't feel like I'm in control and at least know what my next course of action is.
And, may as well cast this out there if only just to de-frazzle some nerves. Because I really don't have people to talk to, I've never needed people to talk to.
Also: don't worry about the whole 'wellwishing' thing. That's always felt hollow to me, I'm just here to ramble a bit.
So, as some percentage of you know, I've been looking after my grandmother for the last, oh, let's say about eighteen years now. At the time, I really was the only one who could. While my uncle or a couple of my cousins might have been able to move her into their homes, I was the only one really in a position to move in with her. All I had to do was move out of an apartment. In the same town, even.
The years went by, this became a pretty happy normal. Save money, do all the man stuff around the place like mow a damn acre that's more swamp than land. Be a failed writer.
All very comfortable, all very normal. I was happy, and more than that, I was content.
Hey, I found what I love, and am still willing to let it kill me.
And then this week happened. Grandma gets sick, we take her to the hospital. Not the first time. Not the first time this summer. Looked like UTI infection #20-ish at this point.
Listeria. Fucking. Listeria. Which I find out about when the health department calls me up to play 200 questions. Because why would the hospital tell me anything? I'm only the one who's spent the last couple decades looking after her.
Side note: there's been a listeria outbreak in the USA since July. And somehow I didn't hear a thing about it.
As much as I bitched at her for not watching her diet, not doing her exercises to keep up her strength, not taking care of her kidney issues, and later skipping her dialysis treatments... this is what's probably going to kill her. Something she had absolutely no power to prevent.
Of course, I ate all the same stuff she did. But apparently my immune system proves its demigod status yet again and I'm perfectly unharmed.
They had to do a surgery to put a port in her heart to supply the antibiotic directly because her circulatory system isn't strong enough. There's a very real chance she dies tonight, since the surgery weakened her already frail condition.
If not- an eight week long antibiotic regimen. She'll need her dialysis done almost every day rather than three times a week. And if that happens, it's likely she's going to refuse treatment and go on hospice.
I wouldn't even blame her.
Fucking lysteria.
And I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'll probably get this property. The swamp. That I don't want. In a neighborhood where I'm the only resident under the age of seventy. Full of houses that are at least fifty years older than the residents. Made of such illustrious building materials as lead paints, asbestos, and creosote-soaked railroad ties that someone probably stole.
I've spent functionally my entire adult life looking after this one person. Wake up, make sure Grandma's okay, set up something for lunch. Go to work. Come home. Check on grandma. Cook dinner. Make sure Grandma took her meds.
Called profanities and told to go to hell because I won't let her slop a solid inch of condiments on a burger. Or when I would throw away the bags of candy she'd get. I never figured out who kept giving them to her.
I made a point of doing so while she was watching, you know.
Because I am almost as stubborn as she is, and significantly more ambulatory. Why, yes, there are people more stubborn than me. I'm related to quite a few of them.
All that effort into trying to get her to take better care of herself, all her effort in resisting... and none of it mattered.
Because listeria. Spread because some produce company screwed something up, probably halfway across the country.
And I'm sitting here asking "now what do I do with my life?" Because even if she gets through this, it's taken most of what's left off the inevitable countdown to the end.
And on that day, one of the parts of my life I'd just taken for granted will be gone.
Guess this is what empty nesters feel like. Except if I get woken up at 3AM to her needing to crash on the couch, I'm calling a priest.
Just reading this made my jaw drop simply because of how relatable it is to me.
Much like you I spent more than half my life caring for my parent, in this case, my adoptive dad. He had a slew of health problems due to his advanced age, and I was to care for him through both the (very few) good times and (very, very many) bad times because the rest of my family couldn't be bothered. As time went on I saw him change. Watching dementia and parkinson's disease slowly and viciously erase what was once him was soul crushing for me. Eventually, he needed to be entered into a nursing home because his condition was way beyond what I, at the time a 21-year-old C student with no ambition could treat. He passed away from an aortic anyurism 8 months later. That was 10 years ago, and a lot has changed for me since that time.
Just wanted to share this to let you know you're not alone. If you ever want to talk about it, feel free to hit me up in DMs.