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texchanBleh. I am definitely not as young as I used to be. We had pizza for dinner last night. In my younger years, I was a pizza-holic. I mean, I could have lived on the stuff. But, over the years, things change ... and tastes change. The upshot of all that being that we rarely have pizza any more. Last night, though, it sounded good. Plus, I had a rough day yesterday with the kiddo, which meant I wasn't able to slip into "writing mode" until pretty late in the evening. Having to cook dinner would have left me totally screwed. So, I agreed to the pizza quite readily.
Man, was that a mistake. It made me So Sick. I only ate three pieces, but I can't remember the last time I felt so awful. Maybe the cheese was bad or something. I kind of prefer thinking that to having to face the realization that I truly am an "old fart". What they say is true: Getting older isn't for sissies.
Needless to say, I did not sleep well. I wasn't able to get to bed until around 5 AM. Usually late nights don't bother me, but it pisses me off when I'm forced to stay up late because of something like this ... particularly when I don't get anything constructive done with the time. If I'm going to lose sleep, I want it to be worth it, you know? But, no ... I was feeling too bad to concentrate on anything other than mindless web surfing or anime watching. I settled for anime watching, and saw the first DVD for Full Metal Panic!TSR. I finally fell asleep around 6 AM, and got up at 10, still feeling a bit "ick". I'm not a happy camper today.
I did manage to get most of chapter 3 written yesterday on my latest project. I have to finish, I think, two sections on it and it'll feel "done". I remain excited about this project, which is refreshing. As I mentioned before, it's been a long time since I was excited over any of my original story ideas. I'm trying to milk that feeling to keep my enjoyment of the process and my story momentum going. At the same time, I can't help but worry about the story a bit. I worry I'm doing things all wrong, or that I'm being too boring, or that the pacing is just completely off, or my characters are complete duds, or my story is a complete dud. Yeah, basically, worry over everything you could possibly worry about with regard to a story. It's not that overwhelming, in-your-face kind of worry -- just a constant niggling in the back of my mind. I'm not dwelling on it, by any means. But, it's still there, which is an irritation. At this stage of things, though, I feel it's important to dismiss those worries and just get the story out there in a first draft.
Speaking of "worry" ... My mom called yesterday. Just your average, wanted-to-see-how-you-were-doing call. And, then, in the middle of the conversation, she drops the bomb that she's going in for surgery on Thursday. She found out that her renal artery is severly blocked, and her doctor is going to put in a stint to clear it. I hate that she does this to me. Just drops shit on me like this out of the blue. It's like getting whacked upside the head with a two-by-four and no warning at all. I had known she had gone in for a checkup because of her blood pressure acting up, but, when I asked about it, she told me everything was "fine", and that they hadn't found anything. Obviously, that was an untruth. To say the least. -.-
She tried to blow this whole thing off, too. Like it's no big deal, and maybe, in the general scheme of things, it's not. Her doctor told her it was a fairly routine procedure, that they found nothing at all wrong with her heart, and that this should take care of the blood pressure problems she's having. Plus, she only has to stay overnight in the hospital. Still ... to me, it is a big deal. I don't care how many times the doctor does this operation in a day or week or whatever, this is my mother. That makes it a big deal. So, I"m trying not to be worried about it, but I can't help but be concerned, even though I made a good show to my mom of not being "unduly" upset over the news. I have to walk a fine line with her and be concerned without really showing it, if that makes any sense at all. Otherwise, she won't tell me at all until everything is over. I think they are going to leave my brother in the dark until after the operation. She mentioned it yesterday, saying that he always overreacts, and that she didn't want to bother him. It's like she doesn't get that we would both be more bothered to find out after the fact. Bleh.
Plus, I would like to go down there. At the very least, I would like to be with my dad for moral support, you know? And, just ... to be there. This is my mom. But, since she told me so late, there's no way I can go. The flights are too expensive, and I just can't afford it. *sigh*
This isn't the first time she's done this to me. When she was diagnosed with colon cancer, she didn't tell anyone. I didn't find out until the day she went in for surgery -- a surgery she had had scheduled for weeks, mind you -- and my dad called MY HUSBAND to tell him my mom was going into surgery in just a few minutes. (He didn't want to bother me at work. *sigh*) My Husband then called me at work. I wasn't at my desk, but he told my secretary what was happening and that he was coming by to pick me up to take me to the hospital. My secretary, of course, panicked, because of the situation (keep in mind my dad didn't mention what was going on ... or the situation as a whole ... just that she was at the hospital and going into surgery) and because I was away from my desk in a meeting. My boss happened to walk by and overheard her calling around to double-check the meeting location. He asked what was going on, and she told him. Then, he went to the meeting and pulled me out to tell me. Let me repeat that -- MY BOSS ran down to my meeting and told me to leave, that my hubby was picking me up, and my mom was in the hospital ... blah, blah, blah.
Needless to say, I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea anything was going on. I talked to my parents every day and saw them at least once a week. And, never had my mom mentioned having to go in for tests, or that the doctors had found cancer, or anything.
So, I grabbed some work-related stuff (for something to keep my mind occupied while waiting) and ran downstairs to wait for my hubby in front of the building. As I was waiting, I called my dad on his cell. No answer. But, I kept trying. Finally, after the third ring, he answered. And he was crying. To this day, I have the most vivid memory of that. It was like: "Holy fuck ... my dad is crying." My dad does not cry. At that point, I had seen him cry three times in my entire life: When my brother was in a motorcycle accident and not expected to live ... When I was in 8th grade, and some jackass ran over my dog ... and this. And, let me tell you, hearing him cry scared the piss out of me. Seriously. He managed to tell me most of what was going on, that she had colon cancer, that they were going to do the surgery, etc.
OK. So, we rushed to the hospital and found my dad in the waiting room. He was distraught and very happy to see me, but, of course, he told me I shouldn't have come ... At which point he mentioned that they had known about the cancer for a while, and that the surgery had been scheduled for weeks. I was SO MAD.
I thought, after the panic that little episode caused -- not only for me, but for my brother, too, since they did the same thing to him that they did to me -- my parents would have learned their lesson. But, no. Here we are, doing it all over again. Same song, second verse. Bleh.
I just hope everything works out OK. If it doesn't, I'm going to feel so awful for not being there. Even though I know my presence there wouldn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. It wouldn't change anything. And, there is no way I can get there. Still, guilt isn't rational. I should know. -.-
Man, was that a mistake. It made me So Sick. I only ate three pieces, but I can't remember the last time I felt so awful. Maybe the cheese was bad or something. I kind of prefer thinking that to having to face the realization that I truly am an "old fart". What they say is true: Getting older isn't for sissies.
Needless to say, I did not sleep well. I wasn't able to get to bed until around 5 AM. Usually late nights don't bother me, but it pisses me off when I'm forced to stay up late because of something like this ... particularly when I don't get anything constructive done with the time. If I'm going to lose sleep, I want it to be worth it, you know? But, no ... I was feeling too bad to concentrate on anything other than mindless web surfing or anime watching. I settled for anime watching, and saw the first DVD for Full Metal Panic!TSR. I finally fell asleep around 6 AM, and got up at 10, still feeling a bit "ick". I'm not a happy camper today.
I did manage to get most of chapter 3 written yesterday on my latest project. I have to finish, I think, two sections on it and it'll feel "done". I remain excited about this project, which is refreshing. As I mentioned before, it's been a long time since I was excited over any of my original story ideas. I'm trying to milk that feeling to keep my enjoyment of the process and my story momentum going. At the same time, I can't help but worry about the story a bit. I worry I'm doing things all wrong, or that I'm being too boring, or that the pacing is just completely off, or my characters are complete duds, or my story is a complete dud. Yeah, basically, worry over everything you could possibly worry about with regard to a story. It's not that overwhelming, in-your-face kind of worry -- just a constant niggling in the back of my mind. I'm not dwelling on it, by any means. But, it's still there, which is an irritation. At this stage of things, though, I feel it's important to dismiss those worries and just get the story out there in a first draft.
Speaking of "worry" ... My mom called yesterday. Just your average, wanted-to-see-how-you-were-doing call. And, then, in the middle of the conversation, she drops the bomb that she's going in for surgery on Thursday. She found out that her renal artery is severly blocked, and her doctor is going to put in a stint to clear it. I hate that she does this to me. Just drops shit on me like this out of the blue. It's like getting whacked upside the head with a two-by-four and no warning at all. I had known she had gone in for a checkup because of her blood pressure acting up, but, when I asked about it, she told me everything was "fine", and that they hadn't found anything. Obviously, that was an untruth. To say the least. -.-
She tried to blow this whole thing off, too. Like it's no big deal, and maybe, in the general scheme of things, it's not. Her doctor told her it was a fairly routine procedure, that they found nothing at all wrong with her heart, and that this should take care of the blood pressure problems she's having. Plus, she only has to stay overnight in the hospital. Still ... to me, it is a big deal. I don't care how many times the doctor does this operation in a day or week or whatever, this is my mother. That makes it a big deal. So, I"m trying not to be worried about it, but I can't help but be concerned, even though I made a good show to my mom of not being "unduly" upset over the news. I have to walk a fine line with her and be concerned without really showing it, if that makes any sense at all. Otherwise, she won't tell me at all until everything is over. I think they are going to leave my brother in the dark until after the operation. She mentioned it yesterday, saying that he always overreacts, and that she didn't want to bother him. It's like she doesn't get that we would both be more bothered to find out after the fact. Bleh.
Plus, I would like to go down there. At the very least, I would like to be with my dad for moral support, you know? And, just ... to be there. This is my mom. But, since she told me so late, there's no way I can go. The flights are too expensive, and I just can't afford it. *sigh*
This isn't the first time she's done this to me. When she was diagnosed with colon cancer, she didn't tell anyone. I didn't find out until the day she went in for surgery -- a surgery she had had scheduled for weeks, mind you -- and my dad called MY HUSBAND to tell him my mom was going into surgery in just a few minutes. (He didn't want to bother me at work. *sigh*) My Husband then called me at work. I wasn't at my desk, but he told my secretary what was happening and that he was coming by to pick me up to take me to the hospital. My secretary, of course, panicked, because of the situation (keep in mind my dad didn't mention what was going on ... or the situation as a whole ... just that she was at the hospital and going into surgery) and because I was away from my desk in a meeting. My boss happened to walk by and overheard her calling around to double-check the meeting location. He asked what was going on, and she told him. Then, he went to the meeting and pulled me out to tell me. Let me repeat that -- MY BOSS ran down to my meeting and told me to leave, that my hubby was picking me up, and my mom was in the hospital ... blah, blah, blah.
Needless to say, I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea anything was going on. I talked to my parents every day and saw them at least once a week. And, never had my mom mentioned having to go in for tests, or that the doctors had found cancer, or anything.
So, I grabbed some work-related stuff (for something to keep my mind occupied while waiting) and ran downstairs to wait for my hubby in front of the building. As I was waiting, I called my dad on his cell. No answer. But, I kept trying. Finally, after the third ring, he answered. And he was crying. To this day, I have the most vivid memory of that. It was like: "Holy fuck ... my dad is crying." My dad does not cry. At that point, I had seen him cry three times in my entire life: When my brother was in a motorcycle accident and not expected to live ... When I was in 8th grade, and some jackass ran over my dog ... and this. And, let me tell you, hearing him cry scared the piss out of me. Seriously. He managed to tell me most of what was going on, that she had colon cancer, that they were going to do the surgery, etc.
OK. So, we rushed to the hospital and found my dad in the waiting room. He was distraught and very happy to see me, but, of course, he told me I shouldn't have come ... At which point he mentioned that they had known about the cancer for a while, and that the surgery had been scheduled for weeks. I was SO MAD.
I thought, after the panic that little episode caused -- not only for me, but for my brother, too, since they did the same thing to him that they did to me -- my parents would have learned their lesson. But, no. Here we are, doing it all over again. Same song, second verse. Bleh.
I just hope everything works out OK. If it doesn't, I'm going to feel so awful for not being there. Even though I know my presence there wouldn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. It wouldn't change anything. And, there is no way I can get there. Still, guilt isn't rational. I should know. -.-
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-31 07:15 pm (UTC)I will hope for the best for you and your parents. I am here if you ever need an ear. You may not know me very well, but now is as good a time as any.
Stay strong. If not for your parents, if not for yourself, then for your little "kiddo". She probably won't understand why "mommy" is so upset.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-03 06:38 am (UTC)You are right that I have to suck a lot of things up for my daughter's sake. She is a very happy child, and I want her to stay that way. And, for her to feel safe and secure in her life. I do my best to give her that.
Thanks for the good wishes for my parents, and, also, for the insight regarding their motives. I know you are right -- they are very worried and a bit scared, too. It's natural they would be, as they are only human. And it is a frightening situation. Still, I wish they would handle things a little differently.
Good news is that everything turned out OK for my Mom. She had the surgery today, but her surgeon found that her artery was not as blocked as they had believed. They thought it was 60% blocked, but discovered it was only 30-40% once they were inside. They decided not to put in the stint, but just closed everything up and sent her home this afternoon. Good news, except she still has issues with her blood pressure that I hope they can get regulated. They thought the artery blockage was causing it, but, if the artery is not blocked, there has to be some other cause at work.
Thanks again for your support!! *hugs*