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Money, a person’s worth, and stuff April 13, 2014

Posted by Stella☆LunaC in Heart Notes, Mike's Big Adventure in Liver Transplant.
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Yesterday, I went to my daughter’s best friend’s mothers funeral. It was a beautiful day, and a big turnout, as Sharon was a CPN which came with much respect within the community. And understandably, she would leave behind a dark hole in the lives of those under her care at Lakeland Healthcare Center, in town. One Resident was brought in by one of its staff, to see her friend, a tiny elderly slip of a woman with a thin windbreaker and a baseball cap, wheelchair-bound. A few of her closest co-workers came to see her. Brittany had come over the afternoon before, just to get away and spend time with my youngest. Natalie and her hubs Jake drove up the night before, to be here for BT. It was good to see my Twins back together, Buds to the end. Brittany talked about some of her new responsibilities; it was terribly overwhelming for her to absorb all the technical details of managing her mother’s affairs. When she spoke, it was matter-of-fact, she talked about errands at the bank, taking some of her things from the house, to her brother’s in town. Natalie was a good listener. Brittany finally told Nats to make sure I made out a will, for any unforeseen event. Natalie responded by telling her she knew for a fact, she would get nothing, if anything were to happen to Mike, myself, or both of us. She said that Mike’s kids would come first, and she would get nothing. I assured her that she would receive things that my mother and dad had left.  But when it came to the house, she flatly stated she would not be included in the distribution from any gain. It made me sick to hear this, to know how she was painfully aware of her status (and mine) within this family. We are not blood. When Mike was in the hospital recuperating from his liver transplant, things were not looking so well for him. He went through 1 rejection in the first 4 weeks post-op. They managed to stabilize his medications, telling us the whole while it was all a part of the recovery. Vitals and blood draws had to be taken constantly, 3 times a day, to monitor his levels. His meds were adjusted and we continued to watch for any signs of improvement. His Hepatic Encephalopathy had not cleared up yet, he was addled and confused, hallucinating and random fits of anger as he struggled to gain control back, and he was still unable to walk. 4 weeks after his surgery, he was transferred to a Nursing home. 4 days later he developed a raging fever and went back to the hospital to undergo another battery of medications and antibiotics to combat a 2nd rejection. We thought we were going to lose him, he was out of his mind in pain. His mother called one night, and we talked. I didn’t know what to tell her, as Mike was still not out of the woods yet. At one point in the conversation, she asked me what I would do if Mike did not come out of this. I told her I had not thought about anything but getting him through this, one way or the other. She seemed to doubt my conviction or to not understand it, and asked if I would want to go back to live with my kids. I told her that had not entered my mind, and I still felt I wanted to stay up here, regardless. This is my HOME, and I did not want to leave it. She backed down and let the subject die, and we talked a little while longer before she finally let me go. I feel like a stranger in my own home, no, NOT my own home, their house. It’s not mine anymore. I grieve silent, every time we pull into the driveway. I take Igor for walks, and when I remember the first time we laid eyes on the house, and how unbelievably lovely a place it was, I can’t stop the tears. It is not mine anymore, I am just taking up space in it. My dreams of growing comfortably old and at peace here, are just that, dreams. I feel empty and worthless now, that my time here is borrowed. I am just borrowing this place. I can’t even imagine how I will feel when our Igor has gone and I have no place to bury his ashes. I can’t lay him here and then leave him behind. I don’t know what I’ll do. Perhaps we won’t even be here when that day comes. I spent many nights alone here, my buddy at my side, unable to see any future, while Mike’s health declined. I didn’t know if he would survive to see a liver transplant. Then when he did get his donor liver, so many setbacks occurred and the future was still so far out of sight, the light at the end of the tunnel but a dim spot in the far ahead. As he lay in the hospital, his body fighting rejection, I fought my worst fear that after all we’d been trough, the fight to survive alcohol and liver disease, down to end-stage liver cirrhosis, I would end up alone, and then be turned out. Mike’s parents would take the house and their money back they had fronted 11 years ago. My worth was as plain as the writing on Mike’s daily  bulletin board in his hospital room, daily reminders that things can change in the blink of an eye. Nothing is safe and secure, no matter how much or how little money we have, or how hard we worked to get here. I’ve seen the ugliness that comes with having possessions and money. It’s only stuff. We will survive, we always will. I just want to fly free as Hawk, soar on a current,  no worries except where my next meal will come from. I will keep looking ahead, to the place where I belong. Image

Pueblo Bonito

 

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Comments»

1. purrcatlady - April 14, 2014

You & your family are in my prayers. Bleak as it seems, things occur that are out of our control; Keep hoping and praying & don’t look too far ahead, just concentrate on this moment of time. Mariana

Stella☆LunaC - April 14, 2014

Thank you Mariana….we do take each day as it comes and make the best of it. I am notorious for my positive attitude usually, but I let slip … Ahhhh…it will all be ok…


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