Not How It Was Meant To Be.

My mom’s cancer diagnosis has turned into my own waking fucking nightmare in every possible way. In the beginning, In the very beginning, I committed myself to going through her treatment regimen  with her, as a supportive and constant and compassionate presence for her to depend on. This was when she was living at home, before she got pneumonia, when she was still fairly physically mobile and very mentally capable. Since the ICU, everything about my mom’s situation has been altered abruptly and uncomfortably for me.
Suddenly, she can’t go home to her own house because it’s not safe for her to be there for various reasons respective to her ability to heal from chemo and now, pneumonia as well. This doesn’t even take into account, the C Dificil infection she is barely recovered from, either. Nor,  does it mention the 12 tanks of oxygen needed at all times now. I haven’t been able to sleep for going on two weeks already, and I feel like tonight  (the night my mom is released from her scary hospitalization) marks just the beginning of a fucking living hell. It has already begun. I am sitting in the kaiser parking lot fuming while the pharmacy fixes the nurse’s fuck-up on my mom’s meds so that we can finally get the fuck out of this horrendously miserable place. But its not as if that means anything to me, though, as its the aftermath of all this fucking bullshit that’s probably going to drive me to fucking kill myself, or die of a massive fucking coronary. The stress and pressure of so much misdirected responsibility is fucking immense, and I do not appreciate any of what’s happening at all. After this absolutely chaotic and miserable experience of becoming a full-time caregiver to a mother who is meaner now than she ever was, I will no longer be willing to be the compassionate person I wanted to be. I no longer want to bring my mom to all of her appointments and support her like I committed to, not when I’ve somehow been forced into becoming a fucking full time caretaker. This is fucking horseshit. I understand people cant prepare for things like cancer, but I am absolutely disgusted by the absolute lack of planning whatsoever for simply the event of a serious medical emergency or basic aging. As a result of her poor choice in a “mate”, her total lack of any kind of organizational skills, and her obsessive compulsive lifelong  hoarding, I have suddenly and completely been thrown into the very unwelcome role of being THE ONLY person to CONSTANTLY care for her like I am a personal fucking nurse. The worst part about all of this is that my mom is in full blown denial about everything. She is delusional. She is mean and shitty to me as I bend myself into a pretzel to not leave her on her own, as she will be without me. THIS is NOT how I want to remember her; I did NOT want to grow even more embittered and resentful towards her at the end of her fucking life. But guess what? It didn’t matter what I wanted when she was healthy; and it matters even less now. My stepfather literally disappeared, she cant find him and he has not seen her once since she got put into ICU. She suddenly wants to divorce him (though, understandably) but who do you think has to take care of all that paperwork and emailing, lawyering and mailing, etc? Mom sure can’t. My brother has been useless, as have any and all of my mother’s siblings save for one, who is only around at random and when her hair looks good or whatever; she does this so she can rub in my mom’s face how healthy she is. I don’t really like her, never have. And really, she hasn’t been here to help with my mom at all when I really think about it, she went ahead and had Xmas at her house (a 45 min drive from mine) and insisted we come, which was Hell. She says things like,

“You are so capable, you can do this, you don’t give yourself enough credit…”

She says these things to me from the other side of her champagne glass with her pinky finger stuck in the air, standing in her massive kitchen, built on a sprawling winery property that she owns. She says this to me as I am worrying nonstop about how I am going to pay rent this month, as I have not worked since my mama’s diagnosis, being so directly tied to her treatment and subsequent rapid decline.

Snuffed Out.

Easy Now


I sit here, chilled to the marrow of my bones, wondering if another innocent will die today.

In this war that rages against us, our powerful adversary has built armies of robotic, light-switch lovers who pose as the ones we commit ourselves to; who play the roles of the people we can trust and depend on – only to be remotely detonated from afar the instant we embrace them.

Will I lose another comrade today? Will I have to drag his battered, broken and lifeless body into the foxhole with me and try in vain to breathe his beautiful life back into him?

The war cries are slicing all around me as I watch, transfixed on his moments of truth; unable to turn away from my enveloping and morbid fears coming true before my eyes. Does he know he has removed his armor? Is he aware that he is a sitting duck, so vulnerable to the enemy only inches from his heart?

My body wracks with tremors of negative anticipation, my eyes pour tears of loss and pain down my muddy cheeks as I strain through the blur created by them; I am compelled to watch this macabre sacrifice that my comrade feels inclined to.

I silently pray to the Gods from my hole in the ground, pushing out all of the deafening sounds of warfare and death and destruction and despair:

May the Gods release my comrade from this gravitational pull he is caught in? I will do anything you ask of me, should you grant him safe return to our hole…he is special, he is rare, he is necessary to so many others in this battle. PLEASE CARRY HIM THROUGH TO THE LIGHT AND SAFETY.

My own spoken words startle me as I realize I have been hollering my prayer into the blackened skies overhead, at the top of my stinging lungs – in desperation. My comrade still stands too far from me, the distance between us – too great for my weapons to aid him at all. I am helpless in the hole we shared not long ago – helpless to force my comrade to survive through this epic battle of his…and I find myself tearfully asking the Gods:

  How could you snuff out such a beautiful light?
 I don’t want you to…