I'm home for the afternoon. This is the third day of school I've missed, although I was there this morning, at least long enough to be told that I wasn't going to be able to write my biology test, as I didn't phone my teacher personally on Monday. That's complete bullshit. How the fuck am I s'posed to phone, when I can bearly get myself out of bed...?
It's not just that tho. I prolly could've struggled through this afternoon, coughing and hacking and being disgustingly ill.
Geezuz, I know my entries have been so depressing lately. The nurse that comes to see my nan told us she's dying.. that she has about a month to live. And today, when she got out of bed, she collapsed. Along with Alzheimer's, she also has osteoporosis, so of course, moving her was more than a one-person effort, lest we break another bone. She's been on this medication for a while -- actually, numerous meds in blister packs that we have to distribute to her 4 times daily, but a particular partly-experimental drug that slows down the process of Alzheimers. I can't remember its name right now, but nonetheless, these past few weeks she's gotten extremely bad. The nurse explained that she's in the end stages of Alzheimer's.. apparently this drug works for 2-3 years, but after that, the stages come quicker, one after another, speeding up the disease.
She's been in bed for about 2 or 3 weeks now. After Christmas, she just sort of gave up. She's mentally and physically exhausted I know, and frightened because I don't think she really remember's any of us, or knows what's happening when the ambulances come, or the nurse or doctors inspect her.
I keep finding myself visiting her room, with this childish urge to climb up onto her bed and rest my head on her chest, and lie there for hours, listening to her breathe, and holding her hand. I have this awful feeling that despite all the activity happening around her, that she's dying alone.
She sleeps all day, and when she opens her eyes she moans, and cries. No one should have to die this way. And amongst it all is this fear that I'll have to go through it again, with maybe my mom, or my brother, or my aunts.. or myself.
I dunno. I'm just sad.
Tuesday, February 20, 2001 12:23 p.m.
When I open the door, I can't see anything. The black is such a shock to my eyes that I'm momentarily blinded, until I see that she's looking at me, her lids half closed, her long, thickly veined hands resting on her chest. A breathing shadow, she groans slowly as I approach. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out, she tries to wave, but she can't move her fingers. I pretend I don't notice, and paste a huge smile on my face, outwardly ignoring what I can no longer deny.
She's dying.
I walk over to the lamp and turn it on. She blinks her eyes several times, the light is too harsh. I'll remember that next time.
"Hi, Nanny."
"What?"
"Can I get you anything?"
Confusion
"Would you like some water? Or some juice?"
Silence
Drinking motion. "Water..?"
Nods.
I place the cup next to her mouth, and watch as she struggles to use the straw. She puts it between her lips and sits there for a moment, getting none of the liquid because she's forgotten how to. She looks up to me for help, her blue eyes watery, takes the straw out, and then puts it back in, and sucks, weakly and slowly, with her eyes closed as if the very motion causes her pain.
She stops, breathes heavily, and begins again.
When it seems like she's finished, she simply puts her head back, and moans.
I take the glass from her and set it on the tall wooden dresser.
"Goodnight Nanny."
"Bye."
"I love you."
Silence.
She's dying.
Sunday, February 18, 2001 08:55 p.m.
I am soooo sick. *COUGH*.. still, I have a lot to do today.. or, erm.. well, basically, I'm going to clean. There'll be a lot of cleaning going on.. nothing like actually having to sit amongst this mess for more than a few hours that makes someone just want to incinerate it, paint the walls a cleanly white, and install a purification system.
You know who is a total perv..? Leppy. Bleck.. Ew. Disgusting.. *shudders*.
You know what, I don't really have anything of interest here.. I'm just to sick to actually think of anything remotely fascinating to say. Our neighbour's coming in a week to gut our ugly ceiling. Its completely falling apart. The rec room is the worst room in the entire house.. everything else has some assemblance of order.. especially my room, of course. ;) my main problem is forcing Brad to do his half of the room..
Anyway, I'm going to go pop in some tunage and start cleaning [of course, cleaning with sporadic coughs and hacks and sniffles].. I'll be more interesting much later.. after I've inhaled cleaning fluids for a few hours. :)
Saturday, February 17, 2001 02:30 p.m.
I'm really a pisces :)
A Pisces!
It's sooo you!
The planets are very complex. Maybe your astrologer will disagree, and maybe a few tendencies will vary, but overall you're a PISCES. You've got that water-sign style which is characterized by an emotional and intuitive nature. You have a magical and spiritual presence, which is why Pisces people are said to be "old souls." As a Pisces, you are especially imaginative, artistic and sensitive. A loyal and generous friend, you are also known for being the quintessential romantic. You thrive on change and adapt quickly and effortlessly to new situations. But your tendency toward self-doubt and insecurity leaves you a little overly impressionable. You aim to please and hate to say "no" for fear of disappointing others. A true Pisces is a wonderfully caring and invaluable friend. You are most noted and admired for your abundance of genuine compassion.
-from Emode.com
Saturday, February 17, 2001 02:13 p.m.
Look Mom! It's Superman!
Who knows what hellish, unstoppable force made me write that.. I just don't know. What I *do* know is that I had to type it, fanatically and/or um.. non-fanatically.
I'm super bored tho.. I was s'posed to go out with Sar and Benny, but I got sick *cough cough* hence my mom isn't letting me leave the house *HACK*.. and so there they are (not literally of course, as I'm stuck at home, and therefore can't see them) but out, having the time of their lives.. BLAH. Stupid people. The least they could have done is come over to my house with chicken soup. Then again.. maybe not.. =s
Oops, gtg.. brad's snapping his fingers.. which means "OFF WITH YOU" .. eg, I got to get off his comp.
*Sniffle*
Friday, February 16, 2001 08:57 p.m.
The computer lab might possibly be one of the greyest areas of the school ever, and lunch hour is over in about eight minutes.. I got my Biology test back, on which I did worse than horrible.. I feel like the new science delinquent, which probably isn't good, cos I have this annoying built-in guilt complex, and therefore, couldn't be a rebel, even if I tried.
Which isn't exactly true uhm, really. Ok, no, I'm lying. I'm not a rebel. I'm not even close. I'm more bordering on wuss, but for now, lets just pretend I'm one,k?
*Dons black leather jacket*
Ok then. My fingers are covered in pencil, cos I was working on my art project today. We have to draw hands in different positions.. mine was my cast, drawn three times, with four hands surrounding it. Then I shaded the entire thing and added squiffy markers.
ACK!! The bell..!! I gtg.. Happy Valentine's Day!! YAY!!
Wednesday, February 14, 2001 01:36 p.m.
Irene Louise Valentine
I thought the upper left hand graphic of my tongue button for Oz was exquisite.. considering the nature of the day within.. oh, about 59 minutes and some odd seconds.. I love Valentine's Day.
Or, at least part of me does. These past few days I've been acutely and horribly depressed, sunk below my own self-made record, barely able to get out of bed and frozen; a numb, unmoving lump of nothing, staring straight ahead and huddled with my coffee, drinking sips intermittently whilst thinking about the unbearable shit that has recently unceremoniously dropped itself in my lap. Have you ever gotten the feeling that one of the Fates is sitting in Fateland, wickedly planning your demise through disappointment? That every time you turn another dream is captured, held and destroyed, under the very guise of hope and contentment..?
I get depressed every few weeks. I sometimes wonder if I'm some freaked out manic-depressive. I'm always either up or down.. so perky you'd like to shoot me, or so sad you'd like to put me out of my misery. However today, =today= I don't know what I am. I've had an in between day, perhaps in part because last night I decided to discontinue this ridiculous self-pity spiral. I had every reason to be happy -- my dad came home to visit, I was getting out early today, and I could wear my favourite jeans without looking like I was repeating my wardrobe TOO entirely much. (If I could, you see, I would wear my jeans everyday. Hell, I did during Christmas. Jeans or Purple Pj's.)
But why the depression..? I think it all stems from tomorrow. Prematurely of course. Perhaps the anticipation of tomorrow. Because I know it will bring a myriad of memories and will throw me into a whirlwind of nostalgia, that I probably won't emerge from for days. What's so special about tomorrow? No, its not that I don't have a date. Blah. Stupid person-not-dating-me. Its not that I'm going to be spending the evening dancing with old men at a Valentine's Social. It doesn't even have much to do with the fact that my Nanny is dying, and I'm watching her die.. perhaps this is the semi-Climax (is there such a thing?) to my depression.. perhaps this is the pinnacle, the turning point.. I can either linger in my sadness, or pull myself up, dust myself off, and go buy myself my own goddamn dozen roses. I don't know. Or I guess I do. Tomorrow, my grandmother would have been 73. We would have gone to her house. I would have given her the traditional gift: something, anything, heart-related. She had a fabulous name, you see, being born on Valentine's Day. Irene Louise Valentine, and because of the "Valentine", we would get her hearts, and lockets and lovely things that she would never, ever, *ever* throw away. When I was seven I gave her pink heart-shaped soap, and one of the last times I ever saw her, she still had it tucked away in her vanity drawer.
She loved primroses. And gardens. She wore big, straw hats for gardening, and aprons in the kitchen; when she went out, she'd always have her hair done, perfectly, and glamourously. She used to complain that the word gay was unusable. That it was once "such a lovely word", that she could no longer use in self-description.
I guess I'm already starting with the nostalgia. But I thought it was important for me to write about her here. You see, the woman upstairs is forgetting.. and I'm afraid I will too.
Blast. Happy Valentine's Day. Don't be sad. Think of hearts. :) I love you all, have a great day :) (If you really love me, you'll send me roses .. hehe..)
Tuesday, February 13, 2001 11:01 p.m.
Boycott Biology!!
pyra says:
hehehe.. i don't like brad smoking.. so i keep hiding all of his cigarettes
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
ewwwie
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
must be groossss
pyra says:
it is.. it makes me cough *cough cough*
pyra says:
anyway, i'm gonna go now hernie.. I hafta do my biology homework *UGH*
pyra says:
biology sucks
pyra says:
i hate biology
pyra says:
down with biology!!
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
lol
pyra says:
release the frogs!!
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
fun!
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
ewww
pyra says:
but not the worms!!
pyra says:
let the worms die slowly... mmmmhahahhahahah
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
yikes!
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
pyra says:
oh.. now i feel mean.. poor disgusting worms..
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
hahaha!
pyra says:
hehe
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
ewwwwie
RoXyQuIkSiLvEr says:
they deserve it
pyra says:
well, no kidding.. being all slimey and stuff..
pyra says:
serves them right, the bastards
pyra says:
stupid worms.. helping flowers grow...
pyra says:
hehehe
pyra says:
soooooo frightening.....
Tuesday, February 13, 2001 08:42 p.m.
