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Aug. 27th, 2007 07:40 amSo, I've been quiet. A couple of things about my really-real life.
Jen and I broke up. We're still friends and it's all fine, but I didn't specifically mention that - now I am. Some of you questioned if we were going out - well, as public as I am, she is private - so I wasn't at liberty to talk about anything to do with us without potentially hurting her feelings. A few hurt feelings into our relationship I gave up and stopped talking about us entirely, hence the quiet. I still won't talk about us, but I'm back to "subject to your criticism" status again, aka public. So that's one thing.
Nuther thing is my dad is in the hospital, probably dying. Every day I start or finish by visiting him in the hospital. He isn't conscious and may never be again. For a period of time I was racked with guilt because shortly after I left one morning he was put on a ventilator, I had stayed until 1:30 to avoid that. 2am is when he went on. Now after learning more about his condition and watching how the vital-stats change per treatment, I realize that if anything, they put it off because I was there but that I wasn't necessarily helping - he had to be placed on the machines or die shortly. I was the last to see him conscious, and then in varying stages of medicine land. I can and do spend lots of time questioning if I did enough, knowing I could always have done more, but not knowing what to do. I still don't know, no idea what he feels and doesn't, if and what the thinks, what his dreamland is like. From his furrowed brow and noises I suspect it's a scary place - a nightmare. It was and is hard, but the odd thing is like everything some part of you gets used to it.
I'm now fielding phone calls to the family, as my dad's wife has been a real trooper, but is tired of relaying the same bad news over and over. I had the great experience of talking to the aunt who is (was?) a catholic nun. I then had the annoying experience of talking to the non-nun aunt, who used the term sissy like 17 times, asked me about kids, recommended kids, again, and again, and godded this and godded that...her fear that I might be a sissy was obvious. Of course I'm offended, of course I want to publicly defecate in a catholic church for revenge, of course I'm not going to set the record straight for my aging aunt. I'm a sissy that my relatives should be damn proud of. Hell, dad was a sissy too. There's a bunch of us sissies and that's in the blood, get used to it. But for the aging - no need to educate them on their way out of life. I know she may mean well (how much is help and how much is addressing personal discomfort is always a debate).
So I'm kind of not doing much right now. I'm working out, mostly alone. I'm watching horrible movies and tv: mythbusters, dirty jobs, x2, mars attacks, kill bill, bulletproof monk, etc. Brain go bye-bye. I can't get drunk, I drink every couple of days perhaps, but I can't get ripped in case I get a phone call and have to run to the hospital without notice. I worry that if I released a bit of control how far I might want to go - numb is very appealing right now. However, unlike a USian, I have no urge to sue anyone or go to a shrink to get psyc-meds. I'm supposed to be sad right now, it's supposed to hurt. A sick part of me recognizes that for this experience I'll be stronger when it's over. And it will be over someday, someday soon.
I've had an interesting couple of years here with joy and learning. I learned, to my somewhat surprise, that I could fall in love. I learned that I can feel pain for people I love. I've learned that I can cry. It sounds crazy, but I didn't know these things about myself. I usually stay far enough away that I never get hurt - just angry-hurt. I'm growing, it hurts, and I'm facing that pain not all that different than extra reps in the gym. I'm also facing them alone. I very appreciate the offers and sympathies, but this is something I have to ride out alone and with family. Mostly alone.
