Praying for a Terminal Illness

Yesterday evening I got a very long message. This person thought I was talking about her in my Facebook post. While, I was upset that she ignored all my messages, my post was not about her. In her quest, she told me I was a rude, manipulative, bitter woman. I was told I treated my 22 year old like trash. The way I ran my house was extreme. I was told I talk down to people, and that is why I don’t have any real friends, and why no one wants to watch my kids or animals. I should just get over the past, and leave my daughter alone because she doesn’t need the drama.

The odd thing, this person knows first hand how my daughter is. She went to see her and she let her boyfriend verbally abuse her, when she was sick with Covid. She let her boyfriend threaten her.

I think, perhaps, she has no clue why my rules were extreme. Starting at age 8 when B stole a very large amount of money. The school called me as she had over $100 on her. Subsequent things has happened. She stole from both grandmother’s, aunts, cousins, and friends. I have darn good reasons for keeping my kids in line.

It boggles my mind, that this person who wrote telling me how awful of a person I am, also wrote that she thought I needed mental health help. So, in thinking that I was in a place of needing help, she chose to tell me how awful I am.

Is that what today’s people in their 20s do? Do they tell people they need help as they mentally rip them to shreds? To even say, she thinks I have the depression or something, but still feel the need to knock the breath out of you? Get over it? I wish I could. I wish I can dismiss pain so easily. Depression or something is actually, Depression and something… actually Major Depressive Disorder, Complex Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Avoidant Personality Disorder, and PTSD.

I definitely can not people. If this is what society has deemed as normal, I want no part of it. I had already unfriended this person on Facebook, so my daughter fed her my posts. My Facebook is private. In doing this, she crossed a line. For the first time ever, I unfriended my daughter. She has done it to me off and on as a kid, but this was a first for me.

I wonder if you can add pictures? I have no idea how to start this blog… I could screen shot pics of my evaluation, or the latest one this year. I guess there are people who would make this stuff up..

Then I hesitated… What do I have to prove? What am I still trying to people please in the midst of everything going on?

Why?

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This sounds awful, when it is so bluntly put. Who would do this? Especially someone who has sat by loved ones who slowly faded away? Who, as a CNA, has been there for families and clients during Hospice..? This sounds terrible. I know it is shocking and terrible. If you give a moment to hear the alternative, then perhaps it might give a deeper understanding of not only me, but for people who walk in simular shoes. I want to preface this by saying, this is not someone saying they are suicidal, or someone whose life is so terrible they would love to not wake up tomorrow. This is something totally different.

I am a mom of kids who span 21yrs. My oldest is 30, and my youngest is 9. Consequently, I do not fit in with all the Grandma’s out there, as they can not relate to raising young children at 50. There are some who actually do raise their grandchildren, but oftentimes they have established themselves in their community as a grandmother and are seen as being the “hero” for raising their grandchildren.

I also do not fit in with the parents of my young sons. At almost 11 and 9, their friends have parents well under 40 years old. Even though we share all the issues of raising children in this county and with all the social pressures around, I am considered a “Grandma” and shut out from those circles.

This is not just during school or ball (as in Dixie Youth Baseball), but this extends to Church. The place where I should be happy to go, is one of the most awkward and uncomfortable feelings I have. The few that I have addresses this to, try… they do try.. but they are a very well established family, and me be holding onto someone as they easily flit from one person to the next is, quite awkward.

As I get on with this, possibly cathartic, thing I am writing here, I will touch on each of my relationships with family, friends and well remembered moments.. but for now I will get to the name of this blog, and the title of this first post.

There are 2 days that I need help. One was so I could pick up my daughter. My very disabled daughter who is 14, by age, 16, by sight, but mentally 7. My brother in law is coming all the way from Maine to pick her up to stay in Maine for a week. It is my first break in 7 years. However, we need to meet for me to go and get her. I have asked multiple people, to stay here with the dogs, my son will even stay and take care of the dogs.. and he is begging for me to let him spend the night alone. Everyone has rejected this. People who have no income, who has stayed.. paid.. before won’t even return my calls. My own mother, who is elderly, won’t spend 12 hours at house to do this.

This dives right into the title. In late Sept. I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, kind of how you do when you get the wind knocked out of you. I woke up to Gallagher laying on me, which he never does, and barking in my face.

Gallagher is a Service Dog. He primary tasks are mobility, but he also has a natural alert to cardiac, seizure and migraine, two of those have been shaped into tasks. (He has also had some interesting reaction to cancer patients when I have gone there to see my hemotologist… something to explore in the future). I was seeing one doctor (pain management) the following week. I lessened meds known to depress breathing, and told her. However, I alsowas see my Pulmonologist the following week (COPD from Covid), and I told her that I would be bringing it up to him.

Which I did. He wanted me to do a sleep study (3rd one) and I told him I could not because I did not have anyone to watch the kids/dogs. He set me up for it to be done at home. I get hooked up, go home, bring it back next day. I was EXTREMELY RELIEVED. A week later, his office called me and told me that medical only covers it at the sleep lab. So, I told the lady from the office that I couldn’t get it done.

A couple days later, it happened again. Again I woke up by my Gallagher barking at me, licking my face, and gasping to breathe. I started looking to devices that will sound an alarm if you stop breathing. I can’t find one. They make things for infants, but since 2 dogs sleep on my bed, they would keep the bed moving, so a wearable device. (Note.. Gallagher sleeps on the floor. Maggie and Piper are in my bed. So twice Gallagher woke me up, and I have no idea.. how)

I then went to my PCP, and told her the whole story. She wanted me to get a sleep study and I explained everything above. No one near me, will step in my life for 12 hrs for this to happen.

4 days ago, it happened again. Gallagher woke me up again… are you seeing where this story is headed? I have 3 disabled kids in my house. So, I pray for a terminal illness, because the latter is for them to come into my room one morning to find me dead. Gallagher is a wonderful Service Dog 🐕‍🦺. He is not infallible, and one day he will miss waking me up. When that day happens, I hope I wake up ony own. If that is not to be, I do not want my kids to find me dead.

Because 12 hours is too much to ask of people today…