Dad's condition

It seems to me things are going down faster than expected. I cant prove this yet but i am afraid that the MRI on the 29th will prove it. If I haven't mentioned it before, here's the story: On February 13th, after weeks of odd behavior and speech and three days of headaches so severe he couldn't work or eat, I forced Dad to the doctors office. They refused to  treat his "migraine". I took the nurse aside and told her it was more than a migraine and went on to describe his symptoms. She spoke to the doc and he said that the ER was still the best bet as they could run more test. At the hospital, I done the same thing, pulled the nurse aside and explained all the symptoms. Dad had no complaint other than a headache. Well, they ran a CAT scan and immediately started talking about shipping him to Erlanger, a much bigger hospital about 60 miles from here. They said they found a small lesion and a small bleed in the left frontal lobe. This explained the strange speech and mood changes. So off we go to Chattanooga, he in an ambulance and me in the car. At Erlanger that small "lesion" turned into a tumor and swelling on the brain, sever enough to shift his brain. He remained in Erlanger from the 13th through the 15th the came home the night of the 15th to spend my sons birthday with us and attend my middle daughters play. This is also the day the doctor told me that what he had was a GBM tumor, or glioblastoma. A little research and I was official freaked  out. Friday the 17th he went back into the hospital to have the 4cm tumor removed. I was so afraid that he wasn't coming out of surgery, but when he ask " Will I wake up from this?" I told him yes he would. When the surgeon called to tell us everything went well, he also informed us that they wouldn't actually know what it was till the pathology report came back. He also said that because of the area where the tumor was located, we wouldn't know till he woke up whether or not it would affect his speech. But he woke up asking for food and feeling fine. Things seemed to be looking up. He was cranky the next day but alive and having no apparent problems talking. There was a chance he would be fine. He got out Sunday night and seemed to improve as the days went on. Twelve days later he went back to get the staples out and we were informed that what he had was grade 4 brain cancer. Specifically Gliosarcoma. A rare and deadly form of aggressive brain cancer. Research says one year with good response to treatment. Now onto 6 weeks of radiation and chemo. Five days a week radiation, seven days a week chemo in the form of a pill taken at home. His doc tells us  3 to 6 months without treatment, 18 months with good response to treatment. But here we are, just over three months past discovery finished with radiation and starting the first round of maintenance Chemo, twice the original dose but taken only five days out of every 28. I'm worried that he is already having regrowth. He's tired all the time and I think his speech may be acting up again. Statistics say two year survival is 9 percent, five year is 2 percent. I keep trying to tell myself that what is terminal today may not be in 6 months, that advances are made everyday, and that someone has to be in the 2 percent so why not him? I know this is unrealistic however, and I ache at the thought of losing my Dad. I cant imagine life without him. I lost my Grandma in December ( my Dads mom) and it's still not sunk in. I cant imagine losing Dad too. And the wondering if causing me so much anxiety. On the 29th we go back for his first post treatment scan. I don't know what will be offered if there has been regrowth. More surgery? And if so, will he take it? I cant even began to wonder what it is like for him, but true to his nature, he don't let on to what he is thinking or feeling. Will he be here for Christmas? Emily's next birthday or even mine? All the questions are driving me crazy. And just like Dad, I hide a way my sadness and fear. I focus on his treatments. I make sure he takes his meds. And I try to keep him focused. Sometimes it all seems so unreal. Just as it did, ( and still does) when Grandma died. Then sometimes it hits me like a ton of bricks and I cant breath.

Disociate Identity Disorder

So what is Dissociate Identity Disorder?  It's actually what use to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. When people hear this, they think of the extreme causes they have heard about on the news and the outrageous Hollywood portrayal. And on top of this, many doctors don't even believe it exists. But here I sit, with my own diagnosis of it. And it does NOT look like it does on TV. Also, I don't usually lose large spaces of time or not know when I "change" over.  Often my changes are subtle. I start to feel small. I speak in  a child's voice with a child's words. I know what is happening but I don't have control of it. Sometimes I become angry and spiteful. I feel as if I am watching what is happening. The different parts of me sometimes fight among themselves. It can get loud in my head. Often times I hear opinions other than mine slipping out. I work hard to stay present. Sometimes Dissociating is as simple as staring into space. sometimes I come back into conversations and have no clue what has been said or what I am talking about. In the movies the host often has no knowledge of the other personalities. They always show them losing days at a time and often living a double life. One in which is normal and sane and another where they are wild or evil. Its not often like that. Though there have been occasions where I completely lost time.  At one point in my life, I went crazy. I have very few memories of about 6 months. And the ones I do have are mostly fuzzy. Every now and then a memory from that time will hit me and I am literally sick to my stomach at some of the things that happened and things that I did. I was literally a different person then. Now I have more control over it and the voices are quieter. Most the time. But they are still there. I always felt them there. But because I didn't "change' like people on TV do, I never really believed they were real. When I began with my present therapist she helped me to realize that they are real. And they are all a part of me. Not separate people. Although they are "separate". But they are part of me. They were born from a need to protect myself when i was a child. From many things. But apparently they are now more of a hindrance than a help. sometimes I like having them here. They keep me from feeling so alone. But at the same time, part of me is a real bitch and I don't like her But she stands up for me. And the child part of me can be whinny and demanding but also loves to play with the kids. And then part of me is wild, loves attention and is a tease. I have no use for her anymore. She is my rebellion. This is my life. This is real to me. and though it is not TV worthy, it can really interfere with my life. I am working to make myself whole again. keep what is needed and let go of what is not. I am not crazy nor do I make this up. The ones who know me best recognize the changes. Even when I don't myself.  Support is important. If your family, know that your support means everything. That does not mean you have to enable the bad behavior but when your loved one is having a hard time and trying, your support means everything and if you have mental problems of any kind and you have a support system cause the people you know suck and are not willing to help, well, I'm here.

The Ungrateful

So here I am sitting and waiting. Worried and angry. Let me start from the beginning. A few weeks ago, right around the time my dad got sick, a friend of mine showed up on my doorstep unexpectedly. I just came home and there he was, homeless once again and needing somewhere to stay. Well, it just so happened I was in desperate need of some help. I needed help keeping up with the house and someone to take dad for treatment in case of bad weather or me being to sick to drive. So I struck a deal with him. You can stay with me if you work for me. Now I must note here that the guy has never held a job longer than a few months and jumps from one bad long term relationship to another. And so he agreed. It didnt take long for me to realize that he has a true addiction to the internet. And it also didnt take long to realize what he was doing on there. Now I also have to state that there were rules set up as part of the deal. He would be home on the nights where my husband had to work the next day so that I didnt have to drag all the kids out to take him to work. He would be home no later than 10pm and if he wasnt comming home he would call before that time and let me know. I am a worry wart. I think of all the worste possible things that could go wrong. He walks everywhere. So I am terrified that he is gonna get run over and I am never gonna know what happened. Hes gonna lie bleeding to death in a ditch somewhere. You get the picture. Well Wednesday he decided he was going to meet this chic he had just met online and spent the week end with her. Its not the first time this has happened since hes been staying here. But he said he would be back by thursday night. Well thursday evening he called to let me know it was raining and he would not be back. I have not heard from him since. I have always been there for him. Always stuck by him even when his family deserted him. He knows how much I worry and at the moment how much I depend on his help. For 8 weeks now I have made sure he had food, a roof over his head, clean clothes and provided internet use. Now he has just went off with some slut hes met online that will soon tire of the fact that he is truely a bum and Ill be left to decided if I want to let him come back or severe ties for good. He only cares about himself. Its always been that way. Hes selfish and self centered. He has no manners and no sense of duty. But I love him. Ive known him my whole life. He is litterally like a brother to me. But Im angry and hurt and really want to hurt him. So what do I do when he finally shows? Opinions anyone?

My children and me

I have four children. Each of them have their own personalities and special qualities. I watch them growing, day by day, changing. I look at my oldest and see so much of myself. She's emotional and hot tempered. But she's also so caring and considerate of others. People say she looks just like me and I think she acts like me ( the way I do now, not the way i was as a child.) We butt heads alot because of this. I worry because I'm afraid I'm already seeing signs of bipolar in her. I don't want her to be like me. I want her to be normal. To be happy and sane and never have to worry about ending up in the pysch ward. My second child, also a girl, is talkative and headstrong. She's full of energy and always on the go. She has ADHD which can be a challange. But she too is caring and loving and very bright. My son was an unexpected suprise, but a great one, though I didnt feel that way in the beginning. My husband and I had just bought a house and I was working as a maid at a hotel. My second child was 5 days shy of her 2 birthday when I found out. It was just not the right time. When I confirmed my suspitions with a pregnancy test, I cried. Not tears of joy as I had with my first, but of fear. Then came the shock of him being a he. I never thought I'd have a boy. That brought more fears as the men in my family are violent and abusive and often have drug and alchohol addictions. But it didnt take me long to get excited about the pregnancy or come to terms with the thought of having a boy. My husband was to thank for alot of that. He was excited from the moment he found out and was even more so when he found out he was going to have a son. And he convinced me that my genetics would have less to do with how my son turned out than how we raised him. He truely believes that if we don't raise him in violence, he will not abuse his potiental wife and children. I have alot of guilt for those early feelings now because I couldnt imagine life without my son. He's sweet and loving and adorable. I still worry that he may be like the men in my family, but alot less now. Then came my youngest child. She was born four weeks and a day early. From about 20 weeks they started telling me she was growing to small. Started sending me to specialist. I dont think anyone thought she would make it long enough to be able to survive outside the womb. But she spend six days in the NICU mostly for monitoring. She never needed oxygen or a feeding tube. Just needed to be kept warm cause she was so small, then she had jaundice, which she came home with. Now she is just over a year old and just started walking good over the last week. All of my children are a blessing to me. But i worry. I worry that I am not good enough. I worry that my mental issues will carry over to them. Sometimes I think they would be best off if I just left. If they had just their dad to raise them. I love them so much. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. A good one. You know, super mom, Mrs Brady. Up at 5 in the morning to cook a hot breakfast before school, perfectly clean kids and house at all times, and dinners that look like they came from the cooking channel. Junk food only on special occasions and healthy snacks everyday after school. This is not my reality. Or theirs. The truth is, they eat breakfast at school, I try to limit their sugar intake and make sure they get veggies with every meal. Or at least most of them. But Im still not the mother I want to be. Im still not sure that my kids wont turn out damaged from their mentally ill mother. So the question remains, would they be better off without me? Or is my presents, even through my mood shifts and off ways of thinking, still what they need? I guess only time will tell.

Testing One...Two....Three

Is any body out there? Sometimes it seems that I am sitting in the middle of a crowded room, screaming my head off and no one even looks up. It feels like that alot lately. I have become so adepted at hiding my emotions, that most of the time I have no clue what I am really feeling. The only emotion that really shows through is anger. And alot of it. I feel so much rage sometimes I think I may burst into tiny peices and scatter. and speaking of scattering, my thoughts like to run ninety to nothing and in circles. Sometimes they move so fast I can't finish one subject before I am speaking for another and with in a few minutes, I have no clue where I started.
Things have been rough lately. In Febuary, I took my dad to the hospital. He had been acting kinda off hand and his speach had been mixed up. Then the headaches started. Finally they got so bad that after three days of immense pain, I talked him into getting checked out. He was sent straight from our local hospital to Erlanger where we were informed he had a mass in his left frontal lobe along with swelling on his brain. He stayed for three nights, came home for a little more than 24 hours, then went back in for surgery to remove the mass. That "mass" turned out to be a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer know as Gliosarcoma. So from there we started radiation 5 days a week for 6 weeks aproximately 60 miles from where we live. He also took chemo pills at home. We have just completed the first round of treatment and now we wait. wait for the tumor to return, wait for them to tell us treatment will no longer help. Wait for what will most certainly come with in the next 12 to 18 months. The 2 year survival rate is 9 percent. The five year 2 percent. But I don't want to think about it. For as bad as things was growing up, I love my dad. He is not the same man to day as he was all those years ago. I want my children to remember him well. I have four children. One just turned 1 one is about to turn 7 one just turned 4 and one is 10. I want him to live long enough they will all remember him and how much he adores them. And I dont want to lose him. So, we skirt around whats to come and we consider the possibity that he may be that 2 percent still alive five years from now. But thats enough of that. Tune in next time for another addition of Life In My World.