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I Am Dirt

I give up. I now know with certainty that I am nothing. I am a zero. Life is hopeless. I am dirt.

I am beyond my limit in feeling sad and frightened. My mind has broken and decayed into mush out of worry.

I feel my life is over.

Why won't people listen to me? Why will they not do what I say when I know it is right?

I went with my wife on a late morning shopping trip. We went to a new store that was having a grand opening. As is normal for me, I started my mother's day at 8:00am. She awoke and went into the bathroom to be weighed. Her weight was up, but it was up in a way that was intermediate. It was at a number that could mean nothing, or it could mean she needed an extra Butamex diuretic (and associated potassium). But the risk of giving her the extra medication was that she could become dehydrated and that could throw other parameters of her body out of homeostasis. My mother is unable to take a shower on her own, as she is not strong enough. So, we talked with her (actually I have talked with her three times since yesterday about it....) that the plan was we would help her take her shower when we returned home.

So, she said she felt fine and my wife and I left.

Shopping was enjoyable. We had a really pleasant time. We even laughed.

We go home and find my mother is sitting in a different seat in the family room and looks exhausted and out of breath.

She informs us that she decided to wash her hair in the sink and give herself a "bird" bath (a more labor intensive washing with a washcloth by the sink than a regular shower would be).

She then tells us she did it because her (left) arm hurts and she could not raise her arm above her shoulder so she decided to do this instead of have to "wash her head in the shower".

I grit my teeth and ask her when her arm started to hurt.

"Oh, during the middle of the night." she stated.

My blood pressure rose at least 40 points. I was livid. I leave the room, unable to speak unless I were to let loose with a barrage of explicatives. I walk around the various other rooms of the house and try to regain composure. It does not work. I tell my wife I cannot be here right now and go sit in the basement alone. I rant, I sob, I curse, I feel as if I am losing grip on reality.

Why is it she cannot simply work with me?

Why does she have to hide things?

She may think she is "not telling us things" to be kind and to keep us from worrying.... but damn it all to hell and back.... by NOT being truthful she makes things so much damn harder. Each and every minute has to be one where we are trying to assess whether she is "ok" or getting sicker. Whether she is fine to be at home or if she is drifting to another state where the options are a hospital stay or death.

So, I spend the next several hours trying to figure out what her "sore arm" means... is it simply due to a sore muscle from sleeping on it wrong? Or is it a sign of some additional damage to her heart and that her heart is going into failure again? Or is it a sign she could be dehydrated from too many diuretics and that her heart is receiving too toxic a dose of her arrythmia medication? Or is it something else that is going wrong that I have not yet considered?

I sit and wait and watch and try to figure it out. I am angry and I feel guilty and I feel p*sssed off and I feel bitter, and I feel embarassed at myself. I hate my life and I hate myself and I had everything. That is the rest of my day.

I cannot write more at the moment. I am more than livid again now as I type this, for it makes it all so vivid again. I feel hopeless. I feel unable to cope. I feel broken down, beaten. Worthless, void of life.

PipeTobacco