- 10 year old transgender girl in Phillipe’s family tried to commit suicide last night. Her family is in denial that she’s not a he. I think she’s also stressed with Phillipe dying.
- This is two years after I told the family to keep a close eye on her cause transgenders have a higher suicide rate.
- Phillipe’s family consists mainly of douchebags, addicts and abusers. (The children are wonderful.) Now they’re fighting over Pablo when my family has been taking care of him for well over two years with nary a word from anyone.
- P.S. The same family who came to ‘help him while he was in hospice’ abandoned him when he was not safe to be alone so they could “go have fun at a restaurant and maybe hit a museum.” because they wanted to have, “fun on this vacation.”
- P.P.S. The same family basically told my mom and I that, even though we’ve been caring for Phillipe since he was diagnosed with cancer 3 years ago (and knew him since before that), and mom is basically his POA and Significant Other——that we are not really family because we’re white.
- Thankfully Phillipe said that was douchey and wrong and we are family.
- Went to see a doctor for a second opinion since my GI keeps recommending a colectomy. Second opinion doctor also recommends colectomy. (Fuck.)
- Both of my knees are hella swollen for no reason and have been for days.
- Mom brought home a homeless scarred up cat. I’m training Pablo to be nice to her. She’s the sweetest.
- Phillipe’s family are so infuriating. They abandoned a man on hospice that shouldn’t be alone so they could “have fun” after making my mom already work a 12 hour shift.
- My second opinion GI said that surgery looks like the best option for me. Ugh.
I know I’ve been gone a lot lately but this past Friday I had my chemo session and I’m still rather out of it. Fortunately my pain meds got sorted out and I’m typing this on some hydrocodone as we speak.
Phillipe is officially on hospice today and he’s scrambling to get what he wants out to people he wants before he dies and, more importantly, keep it all out of the hands of his son who is a relentless douchebag. (The asshole broke into his father’s house when he knew he wasn’t there to steal and rifle and make a mess. Good job, stealing from someone with terminal cancer. You’re a real prince.) Not that the rest of P’s family isn’ t a bunch of winners. When we told most of them of his ER visit the first question most of them asked is, “Where is the car title?”
UGH. Both my mother and I wash our hands of them the moment he passes. We’ll let them squabble like the vultures they are. We don’t want or need anything from Phillipe. He’s family.
Gramp’s funeral in Philly went all right. I cried like a baby and there were no religious services because he wasn’t that religious but the flag-folding ceremony got to me. It’s still strangely quiet in the house now.
The flights on the other hand were TERRIBLE. I flew United at such short notice and I was abandoned repeatedly even though I opted to fly disabled. Several times my wheelchair didn’t show up or the person in charge of getting me from one gate to another abandoned me completely. I was also laughed at and ridiculed by a flight attendant. It was not fun. We will be writing a nasty-gram to them and a report to the Americans with Disabilities Act. It was something I really wasn’t in the mood for especially with how badly I was hurting.
For those of you who don’t know I get spinal and joint pain as a side effect from chemo. It’s rougher if I have to sit upright for periods longer than a half hour. I am usually reclined or laying down at home on a heating pad. Well, despite bringing heating pads and reclining my chair as much as it can in a plane, after the first 2 hour flight I was crippled up before my transfer. Even my pain meds weren’t cutting through it. It was a miserable experience—which is a shame because I love to fly and travel.
But that’s it. That’s everything. I miss all of you like crazy and I’ll probably post more pictures of knitting later because I stress-knit. I think it’s because when I’m stuffed in a situation where nothing I do can change the outcome or feels productive, I like to grab onto a hobby where I can visibly see progress and keep my hands busy. IDK mang. I love you all.
A minty cool breeze on my arse.
Super tired. Working on racoon eyes. NEW FLORAL SHIRT THO.
Had a heart attack scare. I’m waiting for my blood tests to come back but I had a pulsing chest pain, dizziness, headache and cold sweats. Mom thinks it was just indigestion or stress.
My grandfather just came home from the hospital with hospice care. We set up a hospital bed and an oxygen machine that is loud and constant in its rumbling. Gramps is happy to be home and we are happy to have him. Mom is taking it the hardest of all. And her boyfriend, who has stage 4 terminal cancer, seems to have gotten resentful for all the attention Pops is getting.
He had chemo today and is /finally/ on antidepressants. That’ll do all of us some good.
I’m tired as heck and I miss you all.
Chemo is kicking my butt.
But at least I’m making progress on my reading and sock knitting.
SUDDENLY ALLERGIC TO SOCKS
And the hand-knit safe ones that are free of elastics and rubbers are too expensive so I guess it’s time to learn how to knit socks!
By that reasoning I’m one of the coolest!