Ramblings of a mental patient

Today I think I’m going to rewire the lan. I’ve decided that the tivo has been keeping me from using a properly secured wireless setup for too long. So, I’ll be running cat 5 to the TV.

The real motivator behind this is my recent purchase of VisualHub. Its a nice, easy to use video format converter. This, combined with tivo desktop means its a very simple operation to take downloaded movies/videos and convert them for the tivo. For $24, it was a no brainer.

The cat 5 means video/media transfers will be faster than it was when I was using wireless. It also means I don’t need to worry about someone snooping around on my network.

Additionally it can take multi part movies and stitch them together. Or convert them into a dvd image ready for burning. This technology has staggering implications with regard to the fine art of internet pornography. Please feed the cam whores.

Cracked my windshield coming home yesterday. A truck kicked up a stone or something flew off the back. Why tractor trailers need to be in the left lane doing 80 I’ll never know. I’ll need to get that fixed soon.

I’ve been dealing with some pretty dramatic stuff over the last couple of days.

My mother has mislead me with regard to the severity of her illness. I found out thursday that my mother had a brain tumor.

I took the day off on friday and went to the hospital to talk to the doctor. He made it clear that my mother is not recovering from lung cancer. In fact, her cancer had already spread to her lymph nodes before she was diagnosed. She was never in remission. They were just trying to slow down the spread of the disease. Over the past month since I last saw her, she looks dramatically worse. The cancer has spread from her lungs to her brain. They want to give her 2 weeks of radiation to slow the brain tumors down so that she can be lucid. The doctor estimates she has a couple months to live. Then again, with cancer who knows?

So, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do. This week will be spent getting my mother’s affairs in order. I’ll talk to her lawyer, make sure I have her will and a handle on her property.

After the 2 weeks of treatment I’m taking her to pittsburgh where other family members can care for her.

She has a 5 year old great dane I’m going to be looking for a home for. I’m not %100 sure on the time frame, but eventually the dog will need a home.

I need to talk to the social worker at the hospital a bit more so I can figure out what help/benefits I can get for my mother. She’s talking about law suits against philip morris and the big tobacco companies in between her 4 packs a day. My grandmother is talking about ‘why does god do this?’. I’m the only one who is sorry that the choices she made are resulting in her current situation, but I’ll just shut up about it. Personal responsibility is an unpopular sentiment.

So, if anyone has any recommendations on how to best prepare for the death of a parent/deal with a terminally ill cancer patient, I’m happy to hear about it. I’m more or less making things up as I go along. Fortunately for me I have a supportive workplace who is showing understanding and supportive friends who’ve listened to me loose my mind over the last few days.

What follows is a cathartic eruption of some of the emotional demons currently inside me. I feel malice toward the world.

I discovered today that my mother has been ’sparing’ me from the details of her illness. She is not, as I was lead to believe, getting better. Its pretty much standard Maggie shit. Live in denial of reality until things reach epic proportions then let all the shit hit the fan at once.

My mother is not recovering from lung cancer. The cancer is getting worse. It has spread to her brain at this point. This (besides the oxycontin) does explain a few conversations I’ve had with her. She’s been fucked up lately, even by my standards.

I got half the story at lunch when she called me and announced she was starting radiation treatment on friday for a brain tumor. I couldn’t get any answers out of her about the specifics. I had her have the doctor call me.

Talking to him was a bit more insightful. I now understand that the 2 weeks of radiation are to reduce the size of the tumor so she’s a little more comfortable. The doctor seems to think she has months to live. They’re no longer talking about cures. They’re talking about slowing it down.

So, is this fact more distressing than the fact that I discussed it like it was the weather? We talked about travel. She’ll probably want to pay my brother a visit in florida to see her grandson. Brain tumors make flight uncomfortable (thus the desire to reduce the size). I’ll need to discuss the logistics with her medical coverage people to ensure she can get her meds when she’s away. Its probably a non issue.

I can almost feel this. Its just under the surface, I think. The sad reality of it is, I’m still laughing and cracking dark jokes with Kat. I’m numb to pain most of the time. Its there. I acknowledge it and thats usually the extent of things.

I think that in part, that’s why I mutilate myself. I think on some level its me trying to cut a hole through the wall thats separating me from a large chunk of my emotions. I sit and I cut and I saw and I just want to feel something, anything instead of feeling like a reptile. Usually what I feel is the burn of razor cuts and a dark, warm wet sensation as my body weeps.

So there it is. My mother is dying and I’m annoyed because now is a very inconvenient time for me. Its a pain in the ass to have to drive all the way to her house to listen to her own negativity about the world while she lingers and I have to take time off work to hear it.

I’m pissed that she thinks I should give a flying fuck after being essentially abandoned as a teenager and raising myself. Its like I’m supposed to forget that some of the mistakes I made for lack of guidance were in any way related to her drug addicted, alcoholic past. Sure, she lent me a hand when I was 25 and had gotten my life at least to the point where I wasn’t drifting from home to home. But if you ask me that was irrelevant at that point. The damage was done. I had already sacrificed my education and watched ‘peers’ die at that point. I was a high school dropout. I was completely lost.

Even that is an over simplification. Things started coming apart when my grandmother had an illegitimate daughter. The social stigma and lack of stability produced a daughter incapable of making sound, rational decisions. In turn there was an illegitimate son, me. My mother made it up as she went along. There was no example to learn from. There was an abusive, alcoholic dead beat father to deal with too. I suppose I should just content myself knowing I escaped.

I think I understand now why I’ve distanced myself so far from my family. My genetic line is just so much flotsam that I need to divest myself of. As I’ve withdrawn from my family, my life has gotten better. I think what I need to do is take my brother up on his offer to have her come down and stay with him a while.

Mom, I’m sending you to Ivan to die. Visit your grand son, say good bye to your youngest son. I am lost. I am no longer family and no longer attached. While you wither and die I will be taking care of my real family. The ones who nurture me and in turn those whom I care for.

Our relationship has always been a psychological drain. I think I was never really your son so much as a broken condom that wouldn’t go away. Obligation is an apt word. Unfortunately I no longer feel obligated to play the part of the loving son. If you’re going to die, please do so in an expedient and efficient manner. I will arrange your cremation and see that your will is followed.

Even this vitriol gets me no closer to reaching the other side of my feelings on this matter. There is no other hand. There is only reason. Emotion, it seems, is on holiday.

I’m still in pain, but I’m able to walk and have most of my mobility.

I’ll be going 3 more times this week for adjustments to continue to relieve pressure/restore curvature. I really need to pay more attention to my physical well being.

Blah.

I woke up today unable to walk. After crawling to the kitchen to feed the cats, I finally listened to my wife and made an appointment to see the chiropractor.

I’m happy to say I’m not tottering about like an old man anymore, but there’s a ways left to go. I’m not sure what my resistance was really. When my mother had a skiing accident she spent a great deal of time at a chiropractor during her recovery. I guess I just didn’t want to admit that my sedentary lifestyle and bad posture had taken its toll.

So, for the next couple months I’ll be going 3x a week for more forced reposturing. Go me.

I forgot in all the events recently that on saturday when I was at the club I got to catch up with Dana & Kyle. I hadn’t seen them since summer.

Kyle informed me that I was less bloated. So, yay for me looking less like the dead, fat Elvis!

I checked. My gut is smaller than it was before. Evidently losing my taste for soda at work has helped a little. Now if I could just motivate and actually force myself to get back in the habit of getting actual exercise I may lose more of the layer of jelly Josh laughed at….

Saturday saw me with Kat having a great time wishing a friend a happy birthday at a victorian garden party at the Laurel Hill Cemetary. As usual, Kat looked great.

Then it was home for a nap (damn this cold) before the club.

Ah, the club. The chaos lords were in full effect. Kat ran into a friend she hadn’t seen in about 7 years. This guy, Steve. He seemed nice enough, so I spent a little time being drunk at him. As the night wore on, the plot sickened. It seems that Steve is very religious and spent several years very involved in the church.

Evidently he’d grown so frustrated by problems with the church that he was moved to sell all his material possessions and take up street evangelism. Queue me sharing my feelings on god. Despite this, he was very civil to me.

It turns out he’s been wandering for weeks. Recently he’d been up in west chester where the police were called because someone was nervous about him hanging around a church.

This made him rethink his plans. He decided he didn’t want to scare anyone and that he was perhaps going about things the wrong way.

At this point its abundantly clear that he has no where to go and quite literally has the clothes on his back. He’s now talking about wanting to figure out a way to get back on his feet so he can make money to help others with.

Kat and I let him stay with us for the night.

Sunday morning found me driving to a place I hadn’t been to in years. I went to talk to the pastor at the church where the devil would drag me on those long ago weekend fights of fancy. The guys over at hope community church are essentially nice people. They’re not hardcore. They’re not pushy. I figured they’d know more about shelters, etc than I do.

After talking with George a bit and explaining what was going on, he was going to make some calls. He offered a place for Steve that night, but we were ok with him spending one more night on the sofa. We went to the mall, he got himself a phone so he was at least reachable.

Steve is reluctant to rely too much on the church again due to unspecified previous issues. I can respect that. So, while talking to someone at the salvation army he wound up deciding to contact another shelter in philly. That seemed to go well. He was also job hunting on monster.com looking for jobs he could take in the short term.

During the day it was pretty clear that he really thinks that god is watching and judging. He is driven by fear that he will be judged and found to have been not compassionate enough. I bit my tongue over the whole terror based religion rant that was brewing inside me and contented myself that at least he’s trying to get back on his feet.

Today Kat talked briefly with George about Steve. She thinks (and I agree) that he’s probably bipolar and could use a little psychiatric help. He’s not dangerous, but he could use a hand.

Today he left on the bus to head down to the shelter.

I hope he can find a way to operate in the world and still feel that he’s following his moral compass. He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s really mixed up. I hope he decides to get the help he’s talking about seeking.

Cradle of Filth has a new album coming out with a guest appearance by epic love rocker Ville Valo (from H.I.M). Two horrible sounds that go badly together… I love it.

I think Napalm Death should do a track with David Lee Roth as a follow up. That’d rock.

Or how bout Dimmu Borgir and Alice Cooper? That’d work too.

I let my cold, stress from work and frustration at human incompetence get to me. I slipped and fell and landed on a bad habit I thought I was finished with.

Naturally Kat thinks its something she did or can somehow prevent/control or do something about. It isn’t. To my credit I curbed it. To my shame it happened.

Hello, I’m a bastard and I’m a scar riddled jackass. Just as you can count the rings on a tree to see its age, so can you enumerate my mistakes.

So, Kat, I love you and I’m sorry. Never think I’m unhappy with you, if it weren’t for you I’d be in a much darker place. You gave me a gift no one else ever had. You give me hope.