Usually, I am not an avoiding kind of person. I am very much an in-your-face, what's-wrong, let's-talk-it-out kind of person.
HOWEVER, there is one topic I have been avoiding on the blog--my mother. But, she can no longer be avoided.
While I was growing up, my mother was a vivacious, curious, busy woman who was quick to joke and dance. Then, she got sick and that mom I remember has been long gone. She has had legitimate health issues--her main being she had two brain aneurysms removed, one in 2002 and one in 2005. During the course of her treatment and recovery, she became addicted to prescription pain medicine. She is no longer the person I knew, loved, and respected. She became a person who slept all day in a dark room and didn't talk to anyone. There are weeks when I don't talk to her, which is odd because I communicate with my dad and my sister almost daily.
I am telling this because the pain medicine is an important factor in what I and my family have been dealing with acutely for the past couple of weeks.
My parents came up to visit in early January. A couple of days after they arrived, she started complaining of stomach pains, which I completely disregarded because she is always in some kind of pain. The pain became more severe as the night went on and, in the morning, I VERY begrudgingly took her to the ER with my dad. Well, it turns out that she had an ulcer that perforated her bowel and need emergency surgery. I would say that I felt bad that I didn't believe that she was in severe pain, but with her, she's the addict who cried wolf. She calls ambulances and goes to the ER for minor things. She is the kind of person when asked the very mundane question, "How are you today?" will go into the laundry list of aches and pains and make you sorry you asked.
She didn't even know she had an ulcer. The ulcer was caused by over medicating, although she denies it. On top of the transdermal Fentanyl patch she wears, she takes a prescription for arthritis and supplements them with over the counter meds (and a lot of them) that contain a great deal of aspirin. The combo of the arthritis med and the amount of aspirin ate a hole in her bowel. And then they gave her Percocet for the post-surgical pain. Sweet.
AND in the course of all this, the doctors find emphysema complicated with pneumonia, so she had to be in the ICU for a week and on 24 hour oxygen when she was released. Oh yes, have I mentioned she is a smoker? Fortunately, she hasn't smoked since her hospital stay, but she has been a steadfast, loyal smoker who has not been motivated in the least to quit. Not even my dad's heart attack in 2002 could stop her. My dad still smokes, too, so he is not blameless. She refused to quit and he wasn't strong enough to do it without her support. It's not her FAULT that my dad continues to smoke. That's a decision he has made, but she is a contributing factor in his failure. The loneliness and the stress of being her caregiver is wearing on my dad. Every time I see him, he looks more and more exhausted. Of course, I see this yet another example of her selfishness. Other examples I won't put in the blog. Let's just say there are many. We are not sure what stage the emphysema is because the lung function test done for that cannot be performed until she fully recovers from her surgery.
The doctor in the hospital reduced the amount of Fentanyl in her system (I could have kissed him for that, but I never saw him after the surgery) and we have not renewed her Percocet. Since coming home from the hospital, she has agreed to see a counselor. Mostly to shut me up about going to see a counselor or join a support group or simply to stop me from calling her an addict, but there are baby steps of progress being made. She is going through withdrawal right now (she's still on her Fentanyl patch. I'm not sure what kind of recovery she wants. So far, there has been no real realization of addiction for her and until that happens, we get nowhere) and we see her surgeon tomorrow.
The thing is our relationship has become so deteriorated that I don't believe her when she says she's going to stop smoking or that she's not addicted to pain med. And, more importantly, if she IS serious about recovery or stopping her addictions, I am so full of rage and disappointment that I am not sure I would accurately be able to support her recovery. I would just be waiting for her to fail or pounce on any setback she may have. Obviously, I need counseling myself if it gets to that point. I've already seen a counselor about my relationship with her--you can see it helped tremendously. :) I am getting way ahead of myself here, though.
Also, I haven't cried over her. That is saying something because I am a crier. I cry at everything--commercials, kids' movies, the Olympics, winners on game shows, songs on the radio. You name it, I've probably cried over it. And I sit and stare at her, dry-eyed. That she has been diagnosed with emphysema, a terminal disease, is almost a side note. I was not shocked or saddened by the diagnosis. I felt nothing. And that scares me. I will give her the benefit of the doubt and wish her all the luck and strength she will need to recover from her surgery and her addiction plus deal with the emphysema. However, I cannot continue to have her in my life if things do not change.
