Appointments

 I went to the doctor Wednesday for my consultation. I have a tear in the tendon on the front side of my shoulder, which also caused the upper anchor of my bicep to shift and the bicep muscle to come out of its groove. I have scheduled surgery for December 20th. December 19th will be the last day I work this year. This means I only have six work weeks left this year, and the week of Thanksgiving is not a whole week.

It was my first time seeing the doctor at this location. It happened to be the exact location of my father's oncologist. I don't know why doctors need to have several locations across the suburbs instead of just one. This surgeon has three. All are within twenty minutes of my office. He cannot be in three places on the same day. I guess he could, but it seems awfully inconvenient.

I had Alexis cut my hair on Wednesday night, and we went to dinner after. I uttered one word for every hundred of hers. Alexis was definitely wired on something. She told me tales from the funeral of her ex-boyfriend's mother and how his new girlfriend is short, clingy, and ugly. Honestly, Alexis has a lot of narcissistic tendencies herself.

Alexis went on about the shady doctor she was seeing. This doctor has lost his license in the past. He over-prescribes medication. Alexis walked out with five prescriptions she didn't need, including Adderal. I think the Adderal had her mouth running a mile a minute. 

Dwelling In the Past

The weekend left me moody and dwelling in the past. It is not where I want to be, but often the present is not where I want to be either. It is one thing to understand my motivations, but it is another to want to change. I am not changing. I am not sure how to reverse years of self-programming or what change is supposed to look like. What I do know is there hasn't been enough.

Sometimes, it is tough realizing I am the problem without being too hard on myself. I feel like I should take the month of March to identify which parts I need to change and which to keep.

Ava spent the night Friday, but the encounter felt hollow. It left me feeling empty. I would say I couldn't point to one thing that made me feel this way, but that wouldn't be true. In fact, there were several things. I told her she was spreading herself too thin, a point she agreed with, but I do not feel the need to guess at her motivations. 

Ava holds back details concerning herself. Other things she shares seem more like "shit tests," comments to elicit a response. Last week, we made plans to go to yoga Tuesday. I told her she would need to register on the yoga studio's website to sign us up for the class. Saturday, she did so using an alias. Something I felt was unnecessary yet telling. 

There is a mystery there, but I am losing interest in it. My time feels better spent elsewhere. If we make it to our road trip, perhaps I'll learn more. I feel like it would be time better spent taking Max on the road trip this morning.

Sunday, Max came over, and we changed the coil pack and spark plugs on his car. I asked him to look into a new computer for me. He has been playing a new version of Age of Empires, and I would like to play it too.

Saturday afternoon, I took Twin A to lunch. We went to the same restaurant that Billie, my dad, and I often frequented on Sunday mornings when Billie and I were still together, and my dad was alive. 

That brings us back to the past. I miss being with Billie even though I don't want her back. I don't dream about possible futures with her. She is the past, and I have accepted that. I am at a loss to describe what I am missing. I don't talk about it much anymore, but I still think about her every day. It isn't healthy, It holds me back. I think it always will.

From the Ashes

Saturday, Max, his girlfriend, and I braved the hot afternoon sun and headed to the cemetery to meet with my brothers and their wives to inter my father’s ashes.  It was an anticlimactic affair. We did not arrange for a service or rent a chapel.

We dressed casually, so did my older brother and his wife. My younger brother, his wife, and my nephew dressed up in matching purple with dress shirts and ties.  I find my younger brother’s family odd. They go everywhere as a unit. They are vegans but not the healthy kind.  They put on more than a few pounds during the covid lockdown, except for my nephew, who is vegan and has celiac disease. I imagine he doesn’t eat anything at all.

It was close to 90 degrees outside, but the cemetery was busy. I found that unusual. Mostly, they look empty when you drive by. Seems people were dying to get in this one.  I don’t understand why. It is costly to place even ashes on the site. I told Max, “When I am dead, just cremate me and toss the ashes under the nearest tree.”

It cost $850 to open the wall. Considering it only takes a step ladder, screw drive, and caulk gun, I would do it for half the price. My older brother and his wife said a prayer as the granite faceplate was replaced. The rest of us just stood around awkwardly. My father might not have approved, but I don’t believe his life force is attached to those ashes.

The family wanted to eat at Oliver Garden after. I m not close to my brothers. Now that dad is gone, I will probably see them once a year or less. I cannot explain why. I am sure it has to do with the way we were raised. When we arrived at Oliver Garden, they told us it would be an hour and a half wait for a party of eight. So I opted not to stay. We stopped at the Dairy Queen drive-through on the way home instead.

Late Saturday night, Firefly stopped by to pick up the few things she left behind. She has been gone since we returned from our Soaring Eagle vacation. She was on a bender adding a synthetic Xanax her pseudo boyfriend get off the dark web to her usual mix of fentanyl and crack.  Firefly brought him with her. He was only moderately less high. The boyfriend doesn’t think he has a problem because he functions. If you consider being unemployed and having a suspended license functioning.

Firefly was too fucked up to drive. She was full of lies and looked like hell. She has since dropped off from posting on social media. I figure she is either dead or back in rehab. Firefly was looking to go to a place in Florida. I was disappointed in how she left things.

“Take your shit. I am done with you,” was the last thing I text her.

This Time It's Different

Destroy my pain
Then capture life again
This time it's different...This Time It's Different, Evans Blue

The passed few weeks have pushed me far from center.  My father's death has left me feeling guilty and sad.  I had this fantasy in my head.  Billy would come to his memorial and I would be able to cry on her shoulder while holding her tight.  It did not happen.  She sent her condolences in a text and said she was sorry but she had to work. 

I invited her to get dinner this week but she said her new boyfriend would not be comfortable with that and she was trying to be considerate of his feelings.  Where was that attitude when she was cheating on me and denying it?

We got into a long exchange of text.  Too long to post here.  Besides I have already deleted it from my phone.  She said she was only a phone call away.  I reminded her she hated talking on the phone.  Billy told me she was living with the new guy (they have been dating for less than six months).  That explains why I have not seen her on Xbox in over a month.  I am sure there is more to the story.  Her parents probably kicked her out.

In the end, I told her she wasn't there for me.  The one time when I could have used her. That she never was despite all the times I was there for her.  I told her our relationship made us both better people but I wanted to say she was still pretty bad.  She was just a very shitty person in the beginning. 

She is living in a basement of her boyfriend's mother's house.  Still using.  Still broke. They live together and work together. I wonder how all that closeness is going.  Billy has an avoidant  personality she needs her space.  I know exactly how he is trying to "help" her.  Good luck asshole.  You are just banging your head against the wall.  You cannot help someone.  They have to want it. It is only the beginning.  Wait till you go through 4 or 5 failed attempts at quitting.  Billy has been trying to quit opioids the entire time I have known her.  That is also most nine years.  Most of that time she didn't really want to quit. Overdosing, several times in jail, being a stripper/prostitute didn't give her reasons to quit.  This abortion isn't going to either.  The only way it will work is if she surrenders to the process but she is not willing to do that. 

I don't want her back.  I am done with her issues.  I was trying to salvage a friendship with her because I do miss her.  But why?  The good times never really out weighed  the bad.  She cannot take care of herself let alone be there for someone else.

My friend Sam said to me months ago.  "Eventually you will get tired of getting kicked in the teeth."  She was referring to my desire to kept in touch with Billy.  She was right.  I won't be there when her next crisis hits.  This time it's different.

Billy. Another Wrong Turn

Bathwater: Dad is on hospice at his assisted living facility.   He is very weak.  No one knows for sure but I would guess a week or two.  I know you would want to know.

Billy: I am sorry to hear that.  I have been going through a lot myself.

Bathwater:  Are you okay? I am always concerned for you.  You can always reach out to me.  After all we have been through together I would hate to lose touch.

Billy:  No I'm not okay..  I'm still using and I got pregnant. Going through the abortion process now..I'm just lost. Everything I wanted came too fast.. now its gone.

Bathwater: I am so sorry Billy.  You always have my ear and my love.  You can email me or call me.  I will listen.

Billy did not share anymore information.  Initially I was surprised but looking back when ever we were not together Billy tended to get in trouble or do stupid things.  Even when we were together some drama would happen, usually at the worst time.  Without me propping her up it will just continue to happen.  She hasn't changed.

Do you think she is starting to regret choosing to leave me?  I miss what we had but I can see now it was a dead end for me.  What does she see?

I invited Billy to my father's memorial but she said she had to work and could not make it.  My friends think that is for the best.  I would like to see her.  She where she is at inside her head.  An abortion is not an easy decision for any woman but to want the baby and be unable to have it because of your own drug addiction is going to be hard for her to handle. 

The only difference that I see
Is you are exactly the same as you used to be.  The Difference, The Wallflowers

Passing

A low level hum motor and a rhythmic pumping noise from the oxygenator fill the room with sound.  From the hall strands of fifties and sixties music occasionally filter in.  I am in a green lounge chair in my father's room watching him go through the last days of his life.

He has been on hospice for three days.  It is a slow legal overdose if you ask me.  I have been around an addict for years, this is no different.   The nurse assures me it is, that they are just keeping him comfortable.  In reality he is floating in a drug induced haze while his breathing slows over time.

My dad passed away Sunday morning.  I was not there for his last breath.  I am not sure I would wanted that.  He died peacefully and quickly once he decided he was ready to go.  The one thing I will take away from this experience is that everyone who met my father adored him.

Dad, I hope you are with mom now in what ever awaits us.

Fighting to the End

Fighting to live is ingrained in my father’s generation.  He is not ready to die.  I still cannot understand his motives.  My father is back in the hospital.  They are saying even if they stabilize him in the hospital he will crash as soon as he leaves and he will be right back inside.  I am trying to make him understand this.  He is weak and being closely monitored in intensive care.  He did not bounce back to any extent from his last hospital stay just a week ago.  Getting out of bed, staying warm and eating are all an issue.  His heart is working at 15%.  The hospital is subtlety suggesting hospice care.  I am hoping to get him to agree to palliative care that can transition into hospice

. 

The things that make life worth living in my book have all been taken away at this point; his wife, sex, food, the internet and his dignity.  He is left with only struggling to live.  It is not easy to watch.

My mother was supposed to be here.  She was the stronger one.  But she is not.  Cancer got her 6 years ago. 

We live too long.  All the medication these companies come up with can prolong our body’s ability to function but they do not seem to improve the quality of that longer life.  We need to do that ourselves and early on through diet and exercise.  I am personally going to refuse to take medications.  If I cannot fix it through a change in lifestyle it won’t be fixed.  When my body decides to give out, I am going to let it. 

My father went back into the hospital Tuesday.  The doctor said he almost died.  He will die once they stop the life sustaining medications.  He is in ICU but we as a family have decided to stop the medications.  He is going into hospice tomorrow.  The doctors are telling us he heart is very weak and he won't last long.

Hospital Run

Monday morning the assisted living center where my dad is stay calls me.  My dad's oxygen level is low, he needs to go to the hospital.  I pack my computer warn my boss of my departure and head out of work.  This has become routine over the past year.

I get my dad dressed.  He is slumped in his wheel chair.  His false teeth are out and he is not making much sense.  I wheel him down to the Jeep and help him get inside the lifted vehicle.  It is a struggle for him but my younger brother still has dad's Buick and he is not prompt about such matters.  Fuck I cannot reach him by text half the time.  How is that possible in this day and age?

At the emergency room they get my father seen quickly.  They do not mess around when breathing or heart issues are present.  I watch them take dad's shirt off so they can get an EKG.  His arms and legs are so thin compared to his torso.  It reminds me of E.T.  I wonder to myself how can someones torso be so large when is arms and legs are so small.  It just reinforces in me how important exercise is as you get older and how I hate getting older.

My father's health is still fragile.  A cold can wipe out weeks of him building his strength up.  He wants to take more Chemo treatments.  I don't think the cancer doctor will recommend it.  The cancer is killing him but so is the treatment.  If dad gets out of the hospital I need to remind him that he should not wait to do anything at this point.  He is a fighter, but I think he tends to ignore the obvious.  He is weak and he could go anytime.

The Visit

Saturday was a beautiful fall day. I pulled up into a driveway in the neighborhood of identical condos where my dad has his own. This driveway belonged to a neighbor. Mary is an eighty-six-year-old woman. She considers my dad one of her best friends. It is a cute relationship.

Mary is still getting ready when I arrive. She adds the final touch of hair spray and puts on a sweater. She is in good spirits. She has not seen my dad in over a month. I escort her out to the Jeep. The height of my lifted vehicle is our first obstacle. She cannot lift her legs high enough to get in the passenger seat. "Do you think the back will be easier?"  She asks.

"I don't think so, Mary. Give me a second. I'll be right back."  I take off toward my father's house at a quick trot and return with a grey plastic step. This gives her the six inches she needs to get into the Jeep.

She asks if we can stop at the Krispy Kreme to pick up some donuts. "Your father likes donuts, you know."

"Yes, I know."  We roll through the drive-thru and pull into the assisted living facility. I park up front between two parked vehicles to minimize Mary's walk. I get out and run around to get the step in place. She waits by the door while I move the Jeep into a regular parking space. Mary has a limited range without her walker. She did not want to take it for this trip. Father's room is on the second floor, but the distance is not too far. I hold her hand the last few yards just to help her.

We knock on the door and enter. My dad is waiting in his wheelchair. He is dressed, and his hair is combed. It does not matter how old you are. You still want to look good for a date. I notice his room is clean and straightened. I plop into the green recliner in the corner and allow the two to talk.

They chat for an hour before it is time for his dinner. My dad planned it that way. He is reluctant to have Mary visit. I think he is embarrassed by his decline. Six months ago, he was driving himself around. I had to push the issue and offer to take her myself. 

The visit makes Mary happy. He looks better. She tells me dad never discusses his cancer. He is very private. I tell her he has stage four esophageal cancer. I think she should know the extent of his cancer. He probably thinks he is protecting her. I think he should cherish these moments while he is still feeling good.

I drop Mary back home. I reminder her that it is not out of my way to take her back again once I return from China. 

Sam says she hates old people. She is dealing with a difficult dad and a mother with cancer. It is hard on her. I sympathize with them. They still have the drive to live, but the body and mind do not always cooperate.

The Future

Currently I am taking care of my dying father.  I am focusing on making him happy.  He is often the reason I get out of bed each day.  I still believe unseen forces align our lives. They do not determine our destiny, but the give us the things we need, if we allow them. I have positive affirmations written out on cards. These are suppose to help me reprogram my mind and help me get over this break up.  The top card says, "Everything I need comes to me at the right time and place."

My co-worker would say we tend to give significance to random events in our lives.  I believe there is more to it all.  My friend Sam went to see a psychic last week.  This is the second psychic to tell her she will be getting married again.  The psychic said she would be meeting him soon.  Sam does not believe it.  She is twice divorced.  Both guys cheated on her.  Deep down I think she wants to meet someone.  Don't we all?

My dad is finding it harder to swallow certain foods.   I think the tumor in his throat is growing again.  It is hard to tell without testing.  I don't want him to die of starvation, unable to get anything passed the lump in his esophagus.  Other parts of his body are failing.  Any of them could be the final cause.  Getting old sucks.

I have a friend at work.  Her mother-in-law is dying from a disease that hardens the lungs.  Her mother-in-law is in hospice and has been for over a week.  My friend says it is agony watching her slowly die.  It scares me.  I am not ready to see this happen to my dad.