No Words
I woke up an hour ago to the awkward silence all through the house. I’d fallen asleep in tears sometime around 3am, to the sound of Pogo’s raspy breathing, remembering her last day. She was teaching Chloe how to read, she wanted her to carry something with her always, something that she had given her. She had made out a last will and testament, though it’s not legal, I fully intend to do whatever it says. Like Jess, she refused pain medication at the last of it, as if she wanted to be alert, or possibly aware of what was happening. Maybe she knew that pain medication couldn’t stop the inevitable. I don’t know what her decision to be alert was, and I don’t know if I want to know. I woke up to silence and stillness, and I knew immediately that Pogo was gone. My father-in-law informed me that “they” had come and taken her at around 8am. He was going to go into more details, but I stopped him. I don’t need to know that just yet. Her room wasn’t covered in body fluids and her bed was only slightly messed up. I wasn’t awoken to her screams, so I assume she went peacefully and fairly painlessly, in her father’s arms.
Pogo will never have her own online journal or .com now (we were waiting for enom to let go of a name they were scalping that she wanted).
She will never see if Adam Lambert will be the next American Idol.
She will never go to middle school or no longer have to wear those bad private school jumpers.
She will never see me graduate with my PhD.
She will never get to see the two final Harry Potter movies.
She will never know if her little sister learned to read or not.
She will never get to see Rod Stewart at the BOK center.
I’ve spent the last few minutes trying to think of something positive that could come from this, but I can’t think of anything.
I think one of my boys might be autistic. Why:
Give him anything with colours and he matches them up according to colour and then eats it (if it’s food). His brother just eats when he’s given fruity Cherrios. That’s a sign of autism, right?
Pogo woke me up, crying, today. She woke me up at 4am in tears from the pain. I gave her some more pain medicine, but I don’t think it’s really doing any better for her. She just sleeps all the time. When she’s not on high levels of pain medication, she cries from the pain. It’s gotten to the point where Dennis and I don’t even speak to each other about this. I wish there was something else that I could do to prolong her life. It isn’t right that I have to sit by and watch my baby die a slow, painful death from cancer.
This is the part where you can leave your condolences. That little girl went down hill so fast. We knew she was terminal before her birthday, but she was doing great up until this past month. Now we don’t know if she’ll be here in the morning or not.
She tells us about ghosts that are visiting her. Ghosts of the family whom she was close to. “I seen Jess. She couldn’t pass over because of the bruises…” we never told her about her cousin’s bruises. There are many things we didn’t tell her that all of a sudden she knows about. I’m not extremely mad. When I worked at the pediatric oncology center, I watched parents being mad at the doctor, being mad at the staff, and it doesn’t do any good. Being mad at the doctor or the staff doesn’t give your baby anymore time. Killing the messenger doesn’t prevent the inevitable.
I need to go dig a splinter out of Dennis’ foot. This is going to go over well.
Less Than One Month
In less than one month, I will be 29 years old. If anyone wants to buy me anything, I have a wish list, and everything is under $50. All I ask is that if you buy me a journal, pen or planner, buy new, ok? I’d hate to get something like that and have it be written in or nearly out of ink.
Ok, back to my narcotics-induced sleep.
Adventures In Narcotics
I think I accidentally overdosed on my narcotics last night. I took three instead of two. The pain was just so bad. I slept for over 12 hours. I still feel funny. I had weird dreams about riding on a subway (though I’ve never been on a subway before) and then of being robbed and throwing a party afterwards. Narcotics do strange things to my dreaming habits. Maybe I should take some more tonight?
Cleaning Up The Family
We cleaned up Pogo’s room last night. There was stuff everywhere in her room. Things had been on the floor for days, it seemed. I also packed away some of her clothes. That girl has more clothes than a department store. Mostly I packed away her Christmas dresses and extra sheets and shoes. She insisted on keeping the Doc Martins and her school shoes. I found her violin stuffed under her bed, and her school supplies crammed under her armoire. There were stuffed toys and books littering her floor. It was a chore to clean all that up! I worked on it for three hours, finally coming to the conclusion that she needed to get rid of some of her clothes, either permanently or just for the season. Since we spend a lot of money on her Christmas dresses, I decided to just pack them away, but some of the other stuff is going to the GoodWill today. At least now we can see the floor of her room! But for how long…?
It was decided yesterday that my husband will under go surgery on June 1st. This surgery is directly related to the seizures he’s been having since November. The doctor said surgery would greatly reduce the number of seizures he’s having as well as increase his motor skills. We’ve decided to do this. Dennis can’t be having seizures all the time, and I can’t take care of him when he’s in post-seizure mode and can’t remember anything. I hope it goes as smoothly as the surgery he had in 2005, and we can get on with our lives. I’ll keep everyone posted on what happens.
I also need help with my layout, and a hosting decision. If anyone can help, leave a real email address in the comments and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
Spring Night Air Before The Storm
I took some more pain meds last night, and for the first time in several weeks, they didn’t make me drowsy or dizzy. I think that’s an improvement, even though I did sleep, but only for less than four hours. I took my pill bottles down to the drug store to have them refilled. Ten hours later, my pills still hadn’t been filled. I think it’s going to be Monday or later before I get them refilled now.
I went for a small ride tonight. Through the open, night spring air. Honeysuckle. Pine. Mint. The air was heavy with the coming storm. In the west, lightening lit up the sky. In the east, tiny stars danced and twinkled above the dark clouds that were looming in. I made it through the city before the rain started. It seemed like a perfect way to end the day. The thunderstorm stayed for over two hours, with hints of it still lingering in the distance.
Today I lied to a friend. I’m no better than the Chels-Beast who plagues the internets with her lies and misrepresentations. I asked my friend Matt for some money today. I told him I needed gas for my car and food for my kids. He gave me $200. What did I do with it? I went to Mayfest. Alone. Normally this is something the entire family is supposed to go to, but I just couldn’t stand being trapped with my family for another day. Yes, I really said ‘trapped’. That’s just how I feel. Trapped. Plus Dennis fights with my ex every single year, and for once I wanted to go and not see a riot.
Dennis wasn’t happy when I got home. He said he’d been trying to call me and text message me. I said the phone was turned off. He said he called AT&T and they said I was downtown. WTF? He called my carrier? I don’t see where I was so wrong in needing just a little time to myself to enjoy life. Lord knows I haven’t had a good life lately.
When I got home, my knee was bothering me, and I went to take some more pain pills. Dennis took the bottle from me and threw them across the room. “You’ve had enough of these!” he said. I actually dove for them. How dare he throw away my pills! He made me wear my brace in the store, and I really didn’t appreciate that. There were fat men all over the store. Several were ganged in the cosmetics isle. One was changing his kid’s diaper in the parking lot, and threw the dirty diaper down on the parking lot. Another parked next to us at the Burger King, and was blogging about me via his Acer. WTF?
Coming home was draining. Pogo told me her toys should go to specific kids, and she named names. I should not be having this discussion with my daughter. I should not be having this discussion with a ten year old. No one should. It’s cruel. It’s sad. Going back to the University to sell back my book, I stopped at the table Jess and I sat at for our interviews just three years ago. It seemed like yesterday everything in my life was perfect. Now there are changes taking place all around me. And I don’t like a single one of them.
New Page
100 Things about me. I was brutally honest there.
More when I’m not in a hurry.
Jamie aka: The being known as Wonder Girl, 30, mother of four, wife to one, she is a senior biomedicine student who is learning to fit in in the world around her. After nearly three decades on this planet, she still doesn't know where she belongs. Best friend of Matt, sarcastic, spoiled, apathetic, kutie brat, babe. Just your average woman, living in a not-so-average world, surviving by her incredible super power of being able to see right through you while
accomplishing more tasks than you ever thought imaginable. She is the being known as Wonder Girl and she is speaking, I believe. More? Aren't you brave!
