Monday, October 15, 2007
second blog
It is not early and I wish it were earlier. Every morning I feel late, as if the one hour of time I missed would have been the most productive one. This feeling usually dissolves at some point during the day and I’m able to tell myself that tomorrow will be different; I will wake up early, I will have that hour in which all things I have not done will get done. This is only my second blog. Every day I think about my mom and most days write blogs in my head about her but I haven’t written any of them down yet. And I don’t really know why. Writing about how I feel about my mom’s Carcinoid isn’t one of those things I ever plan to do in that one elusive hour. My feelings couldn’t fit in that hour, they hang over and around me like a damp cold day when it’s cold outside and inside – maybe like Russia in the late fall or Nova Scotia in the spring. So I try to keep this feeling away. I go home more, talk to my mom on the phone more. Getting lost for a while in the normalcy of every day activities can usually make me feel like Carcinoid is just the name of some strange great-aunt who always threatens to visit but never does – so we’ve heard stories about her but never actually seen her. But despite the fact that my mom continues to live her life in so many of the ways she always has (swimming, working, organizing, gardening, looking after everything), I can see that Carcinoid is there, in all these things and it makes me scared. So scared. But whether I look at it or not it doesn’t go away; I know why my mom is doing certain things, why she is taking a special care in things, why she can’t waste the hours in a day that I do. I also know why she feels bad on Tuedays and frequently throughout the week at any given time. So I don’t like to talk about and I don’t really like to think about it, because to be honest I don’t really know how. (Can someone please tell me what I will do without my mom?).
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Naomi,
So we've only meet once...I waited 7 years to meet you so the "Blackood 10" would be complete. Don't feel bad, it took me that long to remember everyone's names. None the less it was a pleasure talking with you.
I'll have you know that I absolutley adore your family. Your parents constantly open up their home to Karen, Jordyn, and I and for that we are forever grateful. I will not pretend to know what you are going through. I can only offer my experience and some heartfelt advise so here goes:
You asked in your blog,"would someone please tell you what you will ever do without your mom." Please allow me to share my story....
I grew up in a small town outside of Boiling Springs, SC. My parents were not weathly. My parents were not educated. We struggled to make ends meet. My brother passed from a battle with Lueikemia when he was 14 year old (separate story if you care to hear it one day). I was 10 years old. To young to understand. Somehow I made it through high school (wasn't the greatest student back then) and decided to go to college. My parents, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel
decided to take their first vacation since there honeymoon, some 22 years after they married they booked a cruise to the carribean. I was so happy for
them. They could never afford to do something like that. They were gone a week while I was still working and going to school. They returned, me anxious to find out how the trip was, came to find out that there trip was not all that great b/c my dad started getting
severe headaches a couple of days into the cruise. headaches that no asprin or motrin could cure. He
tried to go back to work but couldnt' make it through
an entire day b/c the headaches were so intenese. Finally convinced from my mom that he needed to be checked out my dad went to the doctor. Came home that
day after a cat scan to later find out that he had a brain tumor, approx the size of a grapefruit.
Now here's this man, that I had know my entire life, looked up to as my dad for 18 years, and was the
strongest bravest person I knew. Forget the rough, stern upbringing, thru all the bullshit I still respected my dad for what he was and what he stood
for. True red white and blue collar working american
man. I then proceeded to watch that man turn into a frail child trapped in a man's body, uncapabable of doing anything for himself. It took about 6 months
for the decline to happen and it happened fast. He recieved radiation treatments but it didn't stop the growth. They needed to do brain surgery to try and remove as much as they could but wouldn't know if it was malignet until they went in, did the procedure and
were able to run tests on the growth. My dad has the
surgery, and the test results were devistating. It was malignent and the tumor would now come back twice
as fast, 5 times as aggressive. There was simply nothing more they could do. Another surgery would do
more harm than good and probably leave him a vegetable....no one involved wanted that. I watched all of this from afar....a far distance. I was still busy with school, work, and my bullshit social life that wasn't. Looking back on it now, I was running
from the problem. I didn't want to be home, didn't want to see this man I knew as my father in a state of disarray. It was bad, really bad. He would get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom
and fall...almost every night. My mom wasn't strong enough to pick him up. My mom would wake me up to get my dad up out of the floor and help him to the bathroom. What the hell was that? I couldn't fathom
it...here's my 44 year old dad, helplessly lying in the floor, needing his 18 year old son to help him up out of the floor, walk with to the bathroom and help him
back to bed? I could not handle that...and choose to ignore it....which was the wrong thing to do. I did it b/c it needed to be done but I didn't want to. I
remember putting my dad back in bed almost every night and him looking up at me in a frail and almost silent voice, simply saying,"Thank you son." That meant alot to me, now more than then.
My dad would sit out on the porch (he was a smoker and my mom wouldn't let him smoke in the house) and halucinate...he would swear he saw things going down
the road, like a truck with the bed up front and the
cab in the rear....180 degrees out if you will.....being towed by horses....in 1995???? When we
would politely disagree with him he would get angry. We finally just started agreeing with him. The list goes on and on.
This went on for a year and a half. I graduated from ITT Technical Institute June 3rd, 1995..........my dad wasn't physically
able to make the graduation. Broke my heart...I now understand why but did not then. Eight days later my dad died in a hospital bed in my
mother's arms(2 days before my birthday). Want to know where I was? Playing in a golf tournament.....again didn't want to face the truth. My mom told me it was going to be days if not
hours....she told me I should be there. I didn't listen. I finished my round of golf and got to the hospital as fast as I could. I sensed something wasn't right. I got to the hospital only to
be greeted by my entire family, both sides of my family were there....I walked into my dad's room with only my mom and a nurse waiting........with my father
lying in the bed, lifeless. He had been dead for several hours. I freaked. I was like,"What the hell
is going on here, why isn't anyone doing anything!!!!" My mom calmly glanced up at me and said,"Son they
were waiting on you to come say goodbye before they took him away!" I lost it...had a nervous breakdown right there on the hospital floor. My family picked
me up, my aunt and uncle took me out of the room and told me it was going to be okay, told me it wasn't my fault and there was nothing I could do. I felt about
an inch tall.....and then it hit me: I could have been there with my dad. I could have been there for
those final days, those final hours to spend with him. To say my last goodbye. I wasn't.
You can never buy back time. You never get a do over or a second chance in that situation. That moment haunts me to this day and I miss my dad......I wished
he was here. I miss that fatherly connection to share my trials and tribulations with.....there is a void inside me that will never be filled.
Now....I told you all that to tell you this: Your mother is a fighter. Your mother is the most honest, driven, caring, thought worthy person I know. Your mom will do everything in her power to beat this disease and she has a small Army behind her to help. You need to know that. You need to embrace this situation and be there for your mom when it is possible. Realizing you live a distance away your mom understands. The phone calls and emails will mean more than if you do nothing. Again, unbiased advice here. I'm telling you this so you don't make my mistake. Don't let a day pass by that, if you have a thought to post a blog on here or you want to call your mom that you don't do it.
And one more thing....remember your brothers have 7 other boys they can turn to. Your sister has no one and she needs you. She needs someone to talk thru this. She has a bright future ahead of here but she needs to know that. Reach out to here, even if it's just to listen. She needs that connection....I can see it in her eyes.
So to attempt to answer your question I will tread lightly. Your mom will do everything in her power to beat this. If she does not beat this you will feel the same void as I have. I will not tell you that gets better in time. All I can tell you is to pray for the best and if that day comes you must cherish the memories that you had while she was here and always know, no matter where she might be, she'll always be looking down proudly on the wonderful family that she created. I know my dad looks down on me....I feel him from time to time.......
Till next time, I hope this helps....feel free to post back on here or drop me a line at jeffkeenan23@yahoo.com. I'm here for support if you need it.
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