On the Calendar, it's the beginning of the Carnival/ Mardi Gras season. Twelfth Night celebrations, King Cake baking, the Krewes are doing their Krewish thing, and the parade season will be upon us soon. Get your party on, for soon enough it will be Lent, and if you're obedient, you'll be expected to abstain from something, or everything, depending on how you roll (or at least do it in private).
In my life- well, it's been a crazy few days, and "Epiphany" is a good word for that, too.
My dad is sick. You probably got that from an earlier posting and from Facebook updates, but he's really sick. He already was, truthfully. He's older, and had already been diagnosed with COPD and Emphysema, as well as Alzheimer's. Of course, being that breed of Southern Gentleman who doesn't take criticism lightly, there have been few lifestyle changes since these diagnoses came about, but now we're at a turning point and a big case of pneumonia is our catalyst. Something has got to give, or my father will cease to breathe. There is no sugarcoating his current situation. We're talking round-clock oxygen. A new, more forceful BiPap machine. An end to the vices that he loves so well, if either of these are going to do any good... and ideally, we're talking about him living with me because he's just not going to be strong enough to live on his own and while both of his other alternative locations for living are fine enough, neither of them can offer reliable supervision and assistance at the level that his doctors want, or at the level that I want. My dad is surrounded by people that love him and want him to be happy, but if what he wants defies what his doctors say he needs, he will still get what he wants. That's tough- what matters more, happiness or health? My dad is 71, and feels that his "good days" are all well behind him. I won't say he's ready to die but I don't think he has a lot left that he's looking forward to, and he's feeling pretty bleak. I will say, however, that I am just about the only person in his life who can out-stubborn him; I get it from him, and neither one of us back down lightly but I have more endurance. So, regardless of convenience and what I want to be doing with my own life, I really truly want him to just settle the hell down and take up bird watching, preferably on my back porch where I can keep tabs on him.
Of course, everything kind of hinges on the idea that my father is going to actually do what I ask of him, which isn't always going to be the case. He's still got his license and his truck and people in both Mississippi and Texas that will cater to his wants rather than his needs, and the chances that he's going to prefer to take those routes when I'm cooking without bacon and hiding his cigarettes is high. Before long, I suspect that I'm going to have the option of either letting him do what he wants to do or beating my head against the wall, and if he makes up his mind the end result will likely be the same. I'm frustrated by that. I'm annoyed that my own stress and sleep deprivation probably made me be a bit angsty with him when I should have found the way to the high road while I was with him this week... and I'm frustrated that due to the nature of my job I'm back in Louisiana rather than there. Juggling priorities sucks, especially when other people depend on you.
So, I'm coming to terms with a lot of things this week. My father's mortality being front and center, but also my own weak ability to adapt to the changes going on. The fact that my life may be changing drastically but that it depends upon the cooperation of somebody else to see where those changes go.
Within all this chaos I am feeling extremely blessed, though. I have good people who offered to drop their own lives to lend me support and even though it wasn't necessary, it's nice to be able to see your safety net when you think you might need it. I have friends who were able to sense when I needed to talk about it and when I just needed a distraction and who didn't take it personally when I just didn't feel like anything. I'd hoped that my siblings would step up and be strong for me- and I don't want to talk about how that played out- but once again, I'm shown that my chosen family takes their role so seriously that it isn't a big deal when the one I was given by blood doesn't necessarily do what I'd like for them to do.
So, on my immediate forecast- I'm back home. I'll be staying here, getting caught up on work and trying to stay sane until the hospital discharges my dad. His brothers and sister are capable of keeping him company and now that we're out of the woods, that's the main goal- keep him entertained and hear what the doctors say. Sometime next week he should be discharged and I'm planning on going to fetch him and bring him home with me to rest and recover, and then after that, we'll just have to see what the cards hold for us.
A final thought...
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