I am nearing the end of my rope. Or at least it feels that way. I think back at the times I felt this way before and I remember that it passes. It WILL pass. As far as Lyme. I don't F$&*@* know. I really don't. I finished IV therapy for now. My bloodwork was still positive during week 5 with everyday IV treatments. "That may be a good thing, it may be a bad thing." Yep, that's the answer I got. It may be because Lyme has a half life and takes awhile to die in the system (good). It may also be that it is becoming resistant to antibiotics (bad). I don't understand it. I really don't. The cognitive stuff seems to be better again :-). The rest is not. I hurt all of the time, have chronic migraines and am really fatigued. I am trying to continue to push through and live life. I have been told that a few other conditions need to be ruled out. So, I have an appointment set up with a specialist. Not till July of course. Grrr. Okay, whining over.
The last couple of years have been so challenging and while I have been very open here about much of it, there is a huge piece I have been unable to share. I have come to a place I feel I am ready to do that.
It was Father's Day this weekend and that was extremely bittersweet. I cried for a large part of the day. And now I will tell you why. Let's go back in time first. I was adopted between my fifth and sixth birthday. I shared on here a couple of years ago about my trip to forgive my birth father. Now I want to talk about my "real" father. I call him that because he is the father that was 'real' to me, that loved me, that made me laugh and feel safe, that bandaged my wounds rather than inflict them, that was a guiding force and a constant strength. I will never forget the day that I first laid eyes on him. I had been told by my foster mother a few days before that I was going to finally get a family and they were coming to meet me. I waited in anticipation and fear. Excitement and dread. While I remember being relieved to have a family want to adopt me, I really was afraid to leave my current foster home. They were my family and I was very attached to my foster mother and my siblings. My birth brother had already been adopted and I questioned why I hadn't been. I wondered what was wrong with me. But, I also didn't want to leave my beloved Mamma Jean, my sister Jenny, and my favorite foster brothers. Anyway, the day arrived for me to meet my new family. Mamma Jean helped me get ready. We chose my favorite dress, pulled my hair up in two pig tails, curled them and tied bows around them to finish the job.I was so nervous. I went up and down the stairs, clung to my favorite doll and waited. When they arrived, I peeked around the corner to see the couple in the doorway and there he was. I looked both parents up and down and took mental notes. But, the thing that sticks out most is the thought that went through my head when I saw my new father. "They found me the PERFECT dad." He was the right age, the right height, he looked gentle but strong, kind, he looked fun and not serious, and his eyes.... His eyes were so full of life. A stark difference from the void I would often see behind my birthfather's eyes. I am just going to share this part of seeing my parents now. Obviously there was a lot going on and much to tell about that experience, but I am just sharing about my father now. I was scared of men after I was first adopted, but I was still very drawn to my new Dad. He played with me. He helped me learn things I really needed to learn, he always told me how much he loved me, he made me feel so safe in a world I really didn't feel safe in. The years passed and our bond strengthened with each passing day. He has always been such an amazing man, balancing out all the negativity that I held about other men and things that I underwent because of them. He helped heal so many wounds. He gave me hope where there was little. I was always proud of him, his heart, his compassion and strength. I still am. I miss him though. Even though I see him constantly. He has slowly been slipping away with an illness. When I came back to Monterey, it was supposed to be temporary. But, when I arrived I knew something was terribly wrong with my Dad. I didn't want to leave his side. And, of course my health became an issue too. I have been helping take care of him over the last few years and it has been a blessing to have the time with him, but a very difficult undertaking as well. He has been diagnosed with moderate to sever Alzheimer's and it is awful. It is unfair. It is ridiculous. I haven't felt comfortable to share in any type of a public forum until now. Part of me just wasn't ready. But, mostly it was because I didn't ever want him to run across it, or for family members or friends to see it and feel upset about me writing about it. Some family members didn't really know. It has been a long, painful, complicated journey. But, everyone knows now. Denial is no longer an option for anyone and I if I want to write about it, I will. I am in the trenches, and quite frankly I feel it's my right to share the experience. He can no longer be hurt by it, because there is absolutely no way he could ever log onto a computer to somehow find this. He can't even turn on a television. So, there is no way that this can hurt him. It's such a weird illness. He knows something is 'wrong' with him, but he does not know he is sick or that he has Alzheimer's. My poor mother. This is not how we planned this part of our lives. What can you do other than just push through and try to make the most of everyday? Humor helps. Sometimes. Some days I just want to pull out my hair. I feel so angry. Anger is not an emotion I have done very well and I have been less than graceful at times. I can not explain the magnitude of watching someone you love slip away, even though they may be sitting in a room with you. People are so weird about it. They act scared when they see something is wrong with him, they often flee as quickly as possible or say stupid things. But, I get it. It's scary. It's uncomfortable. It's sad. There have been some amazing people that have offered a hand, kind words, resources and for that I am grateful. The people who have been through it are god sends. Maybe someday I can be one of those people for someone else. For now, a day at a time is all my mother and I can manage. A week or two ago when I was picking him up from a day program we have him going to, I stood in the doorway and secretly watched him interact with the group. It felt a little like peeking around that corner when I was so young. Getting a look at him in a different light. My heart sank as I thought about 'this' being my Dad. But, then I looked more deeply and I saw that light in his eyes as he interacted with the other people in the group. That life I saw the first day. Radiating kindness. Despite it all, I had this thought again - "I have the perfect Dad". I hate that I can't "fix' him, that I can't undo this. So, what I DO do is - I try to hold his hand as often as possible. I try to put aside my frustration and anger and remember to tell him how much I love him, even if he's driving me crazy :-). I try to remember something beautiful or funny from growing up with him when something difficult happens because of his disease. I am thinking about creating a "memory room" for him and having all the family members write about a memory, give pictures, etc and filling one room with all the happy memories I can. The world is so unfamiliar to him now. Maybe, I can help him feel safe the way he made me feel safe when the world was so unfamiliar to me.
He isn't allowed to as much, but he still takes walks around PG sometimes when he slips out. If you see him, give him a wave. Coach Gardner is in there. He deserves all the smiles possible.
Another journal-like, jumbled entry. I needed to just write the words. To just put it down. I will write more about it when I can. My health is frustrating. Luckily I am finding a way to do things that I love. I am working with a Griefbuster child who is amazing. His teenage sister was killed unexpectedly. I am also helping with an art class for abused foster children on Saturdays at CASA. I am constantly surrounded by animals. Thank GOD! And, I have an amazing companion and a handful of inspirational, amazing friends that help me get through it all. There is so much suffering in this world, but there is so much beauty too. The only way I know how to not go totally crazy over all the suffering is to do something to try and alleviate some of it, in anyway I can. In the grand scheme of things, making dream catchers with children isn't 'fixing' anything I suppose, but hopefully it adds some color and life to someone's day. It certainly does for me.
One last thought- Be kind to one another. I have been dealing with some silly drama in life that seems so pointless, but it does still sting a bit... There is enough pain out there without adding unnecessary pain to others through gossip, negativity and exclusivity. It's just silly.
Here is a picture the day I met my Dad. :)
