Gary Chronicles - Event 16 - The Boat Batteries & Coffee Tables

Remember: $14K.......

So there was a boat.  A car, too but this is about batteries.

Remote control drones, remote control cars, remote control boats.  The boat.

The boat was pretty big and designed so it could be out on the water in the lake, obviously.  Guntersville Lake. (GO! It is beautiful.) It was pretty cool, I have to admit.  I am 5'3".  The boat was probably 4' long.  I didn't lay next to it for exact numbers.

NOW, the boat had been ordered and so had the remote control car.  This kid had reviewed the batteries and connections. The batteries I'm talking about are about 8" long x 1.5" thick.  This is an estimate I can't prove, but it's close enough for who it's for.  He decided that some of the batteries wouldn't connect and special batteries needed to be purchased.  Also, connection attachments to connect them.  He was right on a couple, but he was largely wrong about it. They nearly all fit.  Now he had a zillion batteries. I am betting this group of purchases were WAY more expensive than any legos.....

The boat came and the unboxing started.  It was my turn to be on the floor taking orders and putting things together.  Even the directions on how to put the boat together weren't needed. ...Ahem... G started pulling the boat apart.  The outer shell was taken off so he could get to the guts.  He thought THIS gadget was the one that regular batteries wouldn't fit. He works in his order, a combination of engineer and metastatic brain.  I just tried to follow along.

He started working the batteries and couldn't connect them.  See, he need the adapter.  Can I try, says the big sister who isn't mechanically inclined.  He hands it off, I turn the battery to change connection directions and it connects like butter. High five from the boy.  I feel I appear super smart at this point.  He's surprised I knew something, I feel certain.

Later, when we aren't on the floor anymore, the plethora of batteries and connectors needed to charge.  Remember, the boy likes everything around him.  Underfoot, around him.  Kristy comes back to start plugging in all the things.  NOW the boy was bent set on charging all of them and then organizing them somewhere.  What he really meant was to charge them and keep them somewhere they wouldn't loose charge quickly.

G: KRISTY?! Will you go get that little cooler that is in the garage?  The blue and white one.  

K: You mean the one that is Hopie's? 

G: is that your's Hopie? 

H: yes but you can use it.

As batteries charge, he put them all in a stack.  He asks for a couple freezer packs.  He then delicately stacks batteries, freezer packs, rinse repeat, until all the batteries are in the cooler.  The cooler has to be open though because it won't close, says he.  So I went over and closed it.  Big eyes, probably surprised that I am smart enough to judge the space well enough to know it will close. Smart two whole times in a row!

I put the boat in his office.  It took up nearly all of the space that was left to walk in the office.  It should be noted that in every story told, Meg's house is a jumbled mess where no surface is blank.  I am pretty sure she walks through the house looking only straight ahead so as not to start swinging an ax and kill every inanimate object in the living room.  She was ridiculously gracious to have the sisters in her house for 2 months.  Kristy and I were living in the guest room and couch.  Things get cluttered.  They coffee table was a mess.  Kristy and I even discussed that today was the day we needed to clean it off and start fresh again.

G had anxiety issues his whole life.  As you may imagine, his anxiety was slightly heightened with his diagnosis.  A little.  A smidge.

Remember that everything in the world is around his chair.  Tables, metal arms, monitors, drinks OH and dip cups.  How did I forget that?  Ick. Moving on, a cooler full of batteries and all of his blankets.  

If he was in his recliner, he was covered.  There were 3 blankets that had to be on him in a certain order.  The bigger thing about the blankets was he would get out of his chair and just let them fall to the floor and step over them.  They never tripped him.  I have NO idea how he avoided that.  The point of this is to tell you that the mess around him, regularly, in varying states of gross was profound.

I asked him if I could take anything away, put it away.  NO, he wanted all of it around him.  This turned into a mildly spirited conversation about the abundance of shit and blankets around him.  As he is "discussing" and walking through his obstacle course he starts this conversation.  Me not wanting him to trip and all.  I'm probably stupid on this one.

G: Hopie I've been anxious and you know what you could do for me?  

H: Sure. What?

G: The coffee table is really bothering me.  Could you clean it off?

H: (know that my voice will be increasing in volume) The table?!  The coffee table?

G: yes

H: The coffee table is the thing stressing you out?  You have every half done thing taking up space, sure to make you trip?  The coffee table is what's got you worked up?  The coffee table!?

I think I blacked out for a minute because I can remember the face he was making but I don't remember what else was said or whether or not smacked him.  I think the coffee table was cleaned off by Kristy and me and I think this is where I moved some things from around him.  I also figured out I hadn't smacked him.

I wanted to kill him but I didn't want him die from a fall.  That makes perfect sense.

And so go the stories of the lunatic on the floor with legos, can't put batteries in straight, tangled blanket having, running through the woods with cancer, $14K spending, smart ass. 

That's it.  The batteries and the coffee table.

Gary Chronicles - Event 15 - He broke my car (Related to Event 2 - the Fob)

Did your mother ever say you have busy hands?  Mine didn't.  She just smacked the shit out of them.

The Louk men have busy hands.  If there is a gadget, FOB, dial, shifter, computer, chair, do-da, thingambob,...blah blah blah, they have to touch and play with it and figure it out.

Remember the Fob?  Here is the back story of Gary breaking my car.  Which is why the car didn't start in Florida and it still wasn't the fob.

A perfect sibling car ride.  I, the oldest was driving.  Gary, the next was shotgun.  Kristy, little sister in the back.  Keep that picture in your mind, you'll need it later.

Maybe a 1/4 mile from Gary's house is a gas station and convenience store.  This isn't a convenience store story, this time.  Alabama sits on the surface of the sun so when I pull up to get gas and turn off the car.  I make sure the windows are down.  Gary is moving around a lot.  I peek in the driver's side and ask him if he needs anything.  No, Hopie, I am just looking at everything.  Busy hands.

I get in the car all filled up.  Foot on brake, push button to start. Nothing.  Not one thing.  No flash from the computer, completely dead.  I turn immediately and say LOUK, what did you do?  Nothing Hopie I was just looking at stuff.  (Here is where you need remember where we are all located in the car.) Just as you would expect the little sister from the back seat says HOPIE he pressed the start button like 25 times.  My teeth were gritted, for a visual.

We argue back in forth some, voice(s) raised, at lease mine.  Well, we obvious need to jump start the car.  Of course, we had to do the required, engineer girlsplain and the nurse mansplain. Little sister staying out of it.  She's a smart girl.  It comes to the flash point.

G says he has a little do-da that you charge up and it holds charge and you keep it in the car.  It's awesome.  I said, clearly I don't have that do-da. G says he does, back at the house.  I said, go get it.  Big eyes first.  G says there is a short cut through the woods,  I say, get going, we will be right here.

So 90 lbs soaking wet with a brick in his pock trounces through the woods.  You're probably thinking, she made her dying of cancer wisp of a brother go through the woods to walk home?!  Umm...yeah!  I sure did!  Just because he's dying he isn't any less a busy hands breaking shit.  You broke it.  You fix it.  Also, there was exactly ZERO guilt on my part. 

He rode back on one of his 4-wheelers and the do-dah jump starts the car.  Kristy and I go to Advanced Auto and whatever the other one that is popular. They read codes to see what's up.  I know what's up.  Busy GD hands!  That's what up!  Of course, by the time we got to either of these places the battery had a chance to charge back up a bit.  No codes thrown.  I knew he had shorted out the battery with his busy hands.  We were to leave for Florida the next day.  We would be driving all day and that would keep the battery charged up.  It did.

Anyway, Kristy and I get home from the places and G starts.  This back and forth with comments and questions. It wasn't a calm ask a question, give an answer....nope.

G: what did they say?  What codes came up?  I guarantee some code should come up.  There is a guy I know down the road and that sumbitch will put it on his computer and the right codes will come up.

Me: the battery had time to charge back up some.  No codes came up because of that.  They have the same machine as your guy, I feel certain it is the battery.....then I start to lose a millimeter of control and come undone....

I'm yelling in an escalating fashion: Is it so difficult to believe that perhaps, MAYBE, on an off chance, that you fucking around with it created this problem????  

I need for all of you to know...I was holding so much back.  I really was trying.  I wanted to slap him and shake him cartoon style.

While this is happening Kristy is backing out of the room, Meg takes the dogs and goes into her room and shuts the door.  I'm the only mama left and no one else can talk to him that way.  Poor Meg.  She has been the girl taking the brunt of his labile moods for 2 years. 

So we yell and then don't and then are fine.  Later he is talking to a friend on the phone and I am out of the room.  Kristy hears him say I guess I broke Hopie's car.  YOU SURE DID YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Busy. Hands.

Gary Chronicles - Event 14 - Lego's

Remember last event I mentioned $14K spent in a month?  30 days to be exact.  $14K

So, 6 sets of Lego's.  Apparently the boy loved lego's (this is the first Meg has ever heard of this in25 years) and had always wanted to build things with them.  Who even knows how much these sets contributed to the $14K.  Relatively little in the great scheme, probably.  Know how lego building kits come as a specific thing to build?  A dump truck, plane, tank, something or another Star Wars?  Anyway, 6 sets.

Next were doweled shelving and plastic bins for the lego's to be stored in.  I couldn't understand it.  I don't think the sisters (in-laws and out-laws this time) understood what he was doing either.  So to review we have so far:

    6 builder sets of lego's

    2 tall dowel shelving sets

    Multiple plastic bins

Keep up here.  There will be twists and turns, I promise.  We awoke one morning to find that he had ordered one of those standing tool shelving units.  You know the Craftsman ones with a smaller one on the top and a large one with casters on the bottom?  Those. They are only ancillary to the story, just know they were there.  There was a contentious moment between one of his friends, our sister Kristy and anyone else who was in the room where he wanted the upper tool shelf placed on one of his desks WIDTH length. 

He said long ways on the depth, people who were reasonable said it would hang partly over the edge because the desk wasn't that deep.  Anyway, it ended up the way he wanted.  Now back to our story.

Lego's.  Right.  Boxes were coming in every day.  The three women in the house were irritated on the regular about things coming in from Amazon, but there we were!  The lego sets started coming in.  We would start unboxing these for a few days and there would be these 6 boxes of lego sets.  He wanted everything around him.  Around the recliner that already had two tables with various arms and implements to bring a monitor directly in front of him, drinks in varying stages of waste, a small stand for his phone.  He was surrounded. He wanted the kits around him.  And so it was.

He decided one day that he would start unpacking them.  The outlaw and inlaw and I were having nightmares of little lego's everywhere and one of the dogs eating one and surgery and calamity!  He was still going to unpack them.  He told KRISTY?! to go and get the plastic bins.  She did.  He proceeded to sit on the floor with Kristy and start unpacking all of them.  Envision yourself with each bag of separated parts for you to pull from "a" bag for this part and "b" bag for that part.  You know, separated.  To build it more easily.  Separated.

He began to pull bags apart and start loading lego's into plastic bins.  The women in the room scratching their heads as he just opened each bag and cavalierly tossed them in this bin or that.  When he had done that for an entire building set, he pushed the box aside and opened the next.  THEN he started with the bags again and started pouring them into the plastic bins!  OK, WAIT.  None of the parts were being labeled and he was arranging them in the bins by like pieces.  Kristy had that "WTF are you doing" look on her face.  We asked, why in the world was he removing the organization of these kits and mixing everything up?  There was a good answer, he didn't want to make any of the things in the boxes.  He wanted to build his own things out of the lego's.  WHAT?  It should be said here that he was brilliant and a mechanical engineer.  In another time every woman in the room would have rolled her eyes, lamented his intelligence and walked away.  Right now, though...not so much.

While he and KRISTY!? kept unpacking parts, Meg would hide an unopened box and Kristy did the same when she could get away from the lunatic on the floor with lego's. He managed to get 4 of the 6 boxes open and taken apart before the hiding had concluded.

Those bins needed to be up in his office so the dogs couldn't get into them.  They took up residence next to the big read Craftsman tool box that was hanging off the edge of the desk because he got his way.  They couldn't be around his chair.  Thank the stars.  

Fast forward to me coming home after he died.  I was doing some straightening up.  I got the dust buster out for one reason or another and went to empty the collection chamber.  As it poured into the trash can a yellow lego came rushing out with the dust. The picture was taken and Meg and Kristy got their smile for the day.  That guy.....

Gary Chronicles - Event 13 - The Morning He Decided - Hospice House

My sweet sister just finally read through these.  She said she was back in the room.  We both go back to the room from time to time.

Kristy and I were gone from our homes for 2 months.  2!  That's a long time to not sleep in your own bed. Meg, Kristy and I danced around the question....Jesus Christ how much longer!?

No one wants to have someone die faster, usually.  This is the hospice lesson, questioning how much longer you can keep pace is a very reasonable question.  The whole village, it took all of us to take care of him.  He spent $14K in the last 30 days of his life.  He had brain metastasis meaning the cancer spread to his brain.  He lost sight in one eye.  His hearing was fine one day, for shit the next day, complete with turning the TV up so loud the dust wanted to leave the house!

Getting him to accept hospice was an uphill push.  He kept asking why I was so gung-ho about it.  So, I dropped it until he was ready.  Everyone who came by from hospice was very nice.  He wasn't a huge fan of the social worker.  I think, she thought that social working was social time.  She answered her phone for clearly non-work related calls and he was all done with her.  His consistent nurse case manager was excellent.  She had a great way of making things his idea and presented with options always.  (Married men, you should know that this is a woman skill that has been used on you, repeatedly, and will continue to be, because it works.  This or hearing it out of another man's mouth.) We talked about the in-patient unit for when he was ready.  He stayed resistant to the in-patient unit until he didn't.

On a Sunday, he was having increased pain.  We weren't able to keep up with it and he was frustrated.  We called the hospice and the nurse called us back to triage over the phone.  Luckily, it was his case manager who was on call that weekend so she called us back.  I stayed out of the way and the conversation. The nurse spoke to my sister (the go-between as assigned by Gary) about his pain and getting it getting worse and all the things.  Somehow I got the phone in my hands.  I asked the nurse if she would talk to him directly about the need for the in-patient unit.  She did and she convinced him.  I took the phone back and we scheduled the time we would arrive at the in-patient unit.

So I mentioned to everyone that our scheduled time in would be in about 4-ish hours.  You see, the boy couldn't do anything quickly.  He had to ease into the idea.  Then he had to ease into the idea of the idea happening.  Then he needed to ease into it happening.  Then he had to ease into it being done in a certain time.  Then he had to ease into the idea of getting ready.  You get what I am saying.... this was an amplification of him usually, it wasn't just after cancer came along, that just made it worse.  Ask anyone who knew him...Did Gary need amplification?.... go ahead, take your time, you'll come up with the answer.

Meg asked him if he would like her to pack his backpack for him and he said yes.  She knew what he would want, knew what to pack and did it.  In true Louk form, he then questioned every damned thing she could possibly put in it.  Headphones, pjs, phone charger, on and on.  I won't tell you about the computer equipment he thought he would need.  It's too much.

On the way there he wanted to stop at a convenience store.  Apparently, when he was traveling for work he would stop at these gas station convenience stores and buy an egg salad or tuna salad sandwich.  You know the ones that come in a little triangle package?  So those.  When I look at one of those all I can think about is the misery of a mayo induced case of food poisoning.  **shiver**. So he opted for 2 sandwiches, egg and tuna. I'm still shivering and almost gagging.

Once we arrived at the in-patient unit, Shepherd's Cove, he proceeded to eat BOTH sandwiches in the car before we could go in.  He was riding with Meg so I don't know the conversation around all that, BUT I bet Meg was just doing a lot of nodding.  Just nod and smile and get to the place.  Rinse...repeat.  2 sandwiches.  2.  This is the kid who couldn't drink a whole boost.  2 sandwiches.  Gross ones.  With mayo.  From the convenience store.  Down the hatch like a pelican with its beak strait up and swallowing furiously.  I don't know if he thought no one would ever feed him again or what but, 2.

Louk men are all the same.  They are fun, funny, infuriating, fun loving, infuriating, clever, infuriating, witty.  He walks into the Cove and struts up to the end of the hallway where the nurses station is.  Along the way folks have been telling him that is room is BACK that way.  We passed it. His reply was that he needed to get the lay of the land and find the exits.  **3 sets of eyes rolling**

Once we were in his room, he got settled, the staff came in to introduce themselves and HE told them all the rules.

He knew when he walked through the door he wasn't coming out.  The three of us knew it, too.

Gary Chronicles - Event 12 - Ativan and getting neat and tidy

I will be adding some more funny ones soon.  Promise. This one is but frustrating.

 

Gary’s 43 yo heart doesn’t know to stop.  It just doesn’t.  Also, Louk.  For the last few days he has been agitated.  His tailbone is taking a lot of pressure but he is just confused enough to not stay on a side to help relieve the pressure.  No skin is broken…yet.

 

G was started on Ativan a couple of days ago.  For all my nursing friends, we all know what it looks like when Ativan is NOT your drug.  Instead of being calmer and relaxed, he has been awake for about 12-14 hours a day.  Agitated, pleasantly, but agitated.  It’s like he has been catholic for a couple of days….stand up, sit down, kneel, stand up, sit down, kneel, …..  Yesterday while I was here (SIL and Kristy and I are alternating) and he was wiggly.  We were able to get the nurse in to see his tail feathers during one of his standing acrobatics episodes.  He either leans on me and puts his head on my shoulder or we stand forehead to forehead.  This time he was looking at me, while standing.  He’s been confused and wiggly with busy hands.  He puts his hands up to my shoulders and starts to straighten my shirt.  You know, how the shoulders get off balance and they need to be fixed before you can pull the shirt straight.  He smiled and continued to straighten.  By pleasantly confused you can see that was a pleasant moment between us.

 

A couple of hours later he wanted to stand again. This time we pivoted to the chair so we could straighten out the bed before putting him back in it.  He is sitting in front of me, I’m rubbing his back.  Well, his spine, you can’t go back and forth across his back because his scapulars stick out so far it is impossible to do so.  SO, if you are a pudgy girl, like me, when you sit down in a chair for a long time and you have shorts on, the shorts tend to bunch up.  Then you get up and straighten them up.  Sit down, rinse, repeat.  OK…back to the story.  He’s sitting in front of me.  I feel something on my leg and look down. He is straightening my shorts!  He looks up and says, silently, *wrinkled*.  So he got me all straightened around and back to bed he went.

 

This kid…..

So when you have family who stays with the patient who takes care of all the issues with the patient in the catholic exercise agitation, the staff don't have to deal with it.  The doc and staff here have been great.  They have been trying to get to the sweet spot, truly.  The Ativan was a wild card.  Anyway, I talked to the doc this morning and said we are leaving around 1p because we are all exhausted.  Just letting him know.  My SIL, Meg had been up with him allllll night.  Leaving him altogether wasn't really the plan BUT as Gary said, only lessons that cause a little bit of pain sink in.  The staff needs to feel the pain of the agitation going on in here.

As I said, the doc has been great and he decided to double up on medication to keep him calm.  Was it my convo or Meg's convo that did that?  I feel it was Meg's.  He had the orders and he was putting in while I was talking to him.  Looking across Gary at Meg's face and exhaustion made an impact.  Very articulate, is she and her face backed her up.  Gary told me once that Meg is way smarter than he is and he is a smart motherfucker.  Just like that.  No embellishment.

Hopefully the efforts made by staff and doc today will be effective. He needs the rest as much as we do.

Gary & Dad Chronicles - Kristy - Event 11

 "Kristy!" "Kristy!" "Kristy!"..... these men.

You should know that if there is a heaven anywhere at all, Kristy is going.  No question and no having to account for any transgressions.  Nope.

Dad got sick about 13 years ago.  He had an abscess on his spine that was operated on and cleaned out, twice.  The first one was 17 days from pain starting and after the man went to 5 different ERs.  Finally a doc admitted him to see what was what.  After that he went to a nursing home for some rehab.  He went home with Kristy after that.  Blah Blah Blah, second surgery (they told us it would likely be back for another wash out) to the nursing home on killer antibiotics.  Again, he went to live with Kristy.  Fast forward 12 years.  She had taken care of everything she possibly could.  Series of out-patient surgeries, stents in various arteries, neurology, VA doctors, kidneys, eyes, teeth....  I won't be able to name all of them.  Just know that it was the longest 12 years of her life, in my opinion.  The last few years he was alive were particular challenging with conspiracy theories and forgetting things and forgetting that he even was told something he shouldn't forget.  

The refrain above is the sound track of her life.  The voice of Dad, and now Gary, saying her name is laced with the same inflection, the barrage of orders, the impossibility of finishing one order before moving to the next.

As most of you know, Dad died on February 1.  Gary is slated to go pretty soon.  We have been in AL for about 6 weeks going into the 7th.

So these 2. Phew. Which way was better:

Dad.  He couldn't hear.  One ear in particular was troublesome. He was forever leaning in with...beg your pardon?....I'm sorry I didn't hear you?....come again?....  Consequently, everything he did was loud.  He would call for her and she would be on her way and he is calling for her again.  He woke our mother up at 0430 every damned day and said...Brenda, have you seen my keys?  I don't know why SHE didn't' kill him! I don't know how Kristy did it all those years, but for anyone who loved Wes Louk, you have her to thank for keeping him alive for another 12 years.  You're Welcome.

Kristy and I knew that Dad was not doing well on a couple of fronts, medically.  Of course, Gary was about 1.5 years in to a 2 year diagnosis with Colon Cancer.  We discussed the shittier situation that was facing us.

1.  Dad dies first - Shitty for Gary to lose Dad. BUT we would be able to concentrate on nothing but Gary and managing one Louk man would be quite enough for all of us. If they were both alive when Gary needed help, well I can't imagine how many people she or I would have killed by now.

2.  Gary dies first - Shitty because Dad would lose a child.  I can't possibly think of anyone to wish that on.  Dad wasn't super good with emotions.  He was good with a "love you". "you alright, baby". "it'll be fine, baby".  Losing someone in this way and having to deal with those deep emotions for himself would have been impossible.

So when you are trying to think about how every event should go, the option #1 was the better option. Selfishly, it made things easier to handle without Dad here.  I've already been short with Kristy and with Gary at one point, if Dad had been in the mix AND Kristy or Gary wanted to murder him,  I can't.

It is still shitty that Gary had to lose Dad in addition to all he is going through.  He is about as good as Dad handling hard stuff.  Gave us the opportunity to just be with Gary.

The beginning phrase of "Kristy!" "Kristy!" "Kristy!" started again when we got to AL.  Same inflection.  Same need for full throttle answers and actions.  Not sustainable.  She was here the last time we came down and I stayed for about a week.  Kristy stayed for a couple of weeks after I left.  She was wrung the fuck out.  I think she would have walked home rather than stay longer.

This phrase from Gary was her spine flashbacks of Dad.  Gary and Dad were alike in every way.  I'm not cutting this one thing out that was better in either of them.  Full tilt.  Her exhaustion was 12 years old already.  This time when we came back, I'm not leaving with out her and it will only be hours to days for Gary now.  This is shitty to everyone in every way.

Gary Chronicles - Entry 9 - you have to laugh....

You have to laugh.  You just have to laugh in these situations.  There really isn’t another way to survive it.  The last few days have been exhausting, needing to be finished with it all, all the while, needing him not to die.  

 

Gary is in the inpatient unit for the hospice he is with.  The inpatient unit is incredibly beautiful and save for exactly one nurse, all staff members have been wonderful.  The nurse I am speaking of is medically exact but her approach leaves a lot to be desired.  Not talkative and minimizes what the family is telling her. Now I have seen families who are hindering the care of the patient.  We aren’t them.  They set up a neb treatment, I take it off and turn off the machine.  Needs to have new water or sprite? We do that.  If they try to give him food we make sure everything is set up and take care of doing whatever he needs, which is sip of chicken broth, if he gets anything down.

 

Anyway, Gary is so frail.  He fell about a month ago and didn’t break anything.  I just can’t understand how, but he didn’t.  Right along he has wanted to get out of the bed and go to the bathroom.  Even got a bath one day!  The walking to the bathroom was getting harder and harder.   Night before last he was walking to the bathroom.  I stand in front of him, he puts a hand on each of my shoulders and we walk carefully to the bathroom.  My job is to hold on to his PCA and the medication bag.  Once we are in the bathroom, my job is to continue holding the PCA and bag AND hold the back of his shirt back so he can see what he is doing.  This time in particular, all things had been accomplished and it was time to go back to the bed.  Queue the circus music and everyone gets ready to walk through the room.  He puts his hands on my shoulders and we start walking.  I know I am going to slow for him.  Know how I know that?  I’m glad you asked.  He smacked my ass and said giddy-up!  AND…queue that circus music again!

 

He woke up a little while later and Kristy was by the side of his bed where his drinks, dip and dip cup are setting.  Everything needs to be just so.  The sprite should be in one position, the dip cup in another location, dip ahead of the dip cup, water should be put a little further away from him.  Kristy moves his sprite cup closer to him and he takes it and drinks some.  Kristy is fussing with his table, and he goes to put the sprite down, then he moves it to another spot on the table, then another.  All the while she is trying to take it back from him.  At this point she looks up and he has the wicked gleam he gets when everyone realizes that he was just being an ass.  He was being a fun ass.

 

Quick to say something rude or sarcastic has disappeared.  As we go, the further his communication decreases to strictly necessary sentences and then just words.  We were still getting little glimpses of the man, but today the communication is just mumbles where he likely isn’t talking to us. It’s the skeleton in the bed who looks worse than ever and skinner than we ever could have imagined.  Meg, Kristy and I have shared some photos between each other.  We delete them after.  They are really meant for us to try to chase down some timing that won’t involve our decisions.  No one needs to see any of that.

So, we eat together here and there.  Check the next update for the hilarity of eating together. 

Gary Chronicles - Event 8 - Sarcasm

 Disclaimer:  I am irreverent and have nursing humor.  Take it as it's intended to be, funny and sarcastic.

I've seen it a hundred times.  A family is in agony because they thought their loved one would die quickly. Sometimes that just ain't so.  They move to comfort care and then second guess.  Ok...irreverent and sarcastic, buckle up.

This kid.  Do you know who Jeff Dunham is?  The ventriloquist who has Ahmed The Terrorist as one of his characters?  Well, look.  It's what he looks like, ravaged as he is.

This kid.  For the last month he has done nothing but order things from amazon.  North of $10K in a month!  Buying what you ask?  I'm glad you asked. 

    Remote control car

    Remote control boat

    Legos

    Large tool boxes that he was going to make up a complete set of tools for Meg

    There is so much more....

At leased,7 BIG lego sets for building some car or another, some military vehicle or another, blah, blah, blah...lego set.  NOW each of these things comes as a kit, with me?  This guy, this fucking guy takes every lego piece out of every set, that could have been sent BACK, and organizes them by their commonality.  In organizers that he ordered.  To go on shelving units that he ordered.  Why did he pull them all apart, you ask?  I'm glad you asked.  Because he wants to build whatever he wants to build.  So it is done.  Thank the stars my BIL came into town and helped to organize everything.  I told you that this guy is an engineer, yes?  He is.  He is absolutely brilliant.  Just like the minds of all geniuses, lunacy!  Absolute coordinator of chaos. 

So all that is enough. NOW imagine a living room in a lovely little house where it is decorated cute with plants and inviting couch and blankets to stay a while and snuggle in.  ***Screech!!*** every god damned box on the planet with shit he will never use is by his chair.  It oozes out of his immediate orbit and starts to take over.  Boxes and organizers for the boxes and....exhausting.  Finally my sister tripped and fell so he would get them message to get his shit out of the way.

But none of that was what I wanted to tell you.  The last 3-4 days have been more exhausting.  He was not getting good management of symptoms, mainly pain, so he was taken to the inpatient center.  It's called Shepherds Cove and it is stunningly beautiful, built to give families room and time to smile and greave together.  They set him up on a PCA-Patient Controlled Analgesia - that will give him continuous pain medication and will allow for him to give himself more every 15 minutes, if necessary.  The night they were getting it started he was wild, pisssed and ready to see fueled with straight adrenaline and leave the building.  We worked all that out.

So this guy is on elephant amounts of medication and we have been getting him up to the bathroom.  Have to go with him because he can't hold his PCA and the bag of medicine and hold his shirt up to see what he is doing (more to make sure he doesn't pee on his shirt) and to be sure he is steady.  Well, today he does all of these things and decides he wants to sit in the chair (my sleeping chair) and try to eat some lunch.  So this guy is as alert as he has been in weeks, sips of this, small bite of that and then he is finished.

Stick with me. Couple things here.  In Alabama those signs that let folks know that it is a no smoking campus?  You know like we have at home.  Well, in Alabama there is a cigarette AND a skoal tin.  So the boy dips.  Put-in a dip and falls to sleep.  Someone will come in and need to do something for him and its, I need to take out my dip, can I pee first, can you just leave that one here., heat my heating pad, fix my bed, I need my sprite and dip cup, the sprite is flat - will you go get me a new one.  OMG.... this guy.

When he is asleep it's hard to know for sure if he is alive.  I won't bore you with the details, just trust me.

So they increased his medication and here is the rub.  The second guessing piece.  He perks up.  Talking to us, audibly clear as a bell.  My first thought was OMG what if they want to send him home.  I know how to take care of him but I don't wanna.  The medical director came in and he was right on the page with this being a mysterious rally and that we were days away.  He doesn't think he should go anywhere and we should be able to the sisters (Meg calls us "the sisters") rather than 100% caregiving.  He's not going anywhere.

Don't you get up and talk to me like you are going to walk out of here and go do something fun.  Don't do that.  I know the rally.  I know the time after the rally.

Now.....real talk for families who have loved ones who are dying.  I give you permission for the following:

1.    Being bone fucking, back breaking and emotionally exhausted 

2.    Feeling like you want it to end because you would could go home and sleep in your own bed.  Then it's dammit, he is 43.  It's bullshit.

3.     In the case of Meg, I am quite sure she will like having her house back from all the space invaders.  I want to me in my own house and no one has even been there!

4.     Just getting the news that it is over.  It's done.  Finally.  2 years of anticipation of the nightmare to come.

And many times over we are thankful that Dad died first and didn't have to lose a child.  To see Gary like this would kill him.  Kristy and I went back and forth with who should go first.  This is the way it turned out and it has allowed us to focus just on Gary.  Worded out the way it needed to.

OK...no more bitching about being tired while I am up at midnight with THIS GUY.

Gary Chronicles - Entry 7 - Emotion

 The Gary Chronicles – Entry 7 – Emotion

 

This is going to be a sad one.  No dripping sarcasm or ridiculous quips.

 

Gary is a marvel, sometimes in a good way and sometimes not.  He is every inch Dad.  100%. I’ve mentioned before that they are so much alike, and Gary didn’t see Dad for a long while when Gary was young. It’s genetic.  I have a 70/30 theory.  Kids come as 70% who they will be.  Parents only have about 30% they can succeed with or fail miserably in molding the young brain.  But this is different.  Gary and Dad… they have the same frame of their bodies, crooked and the left side a little higher than the other.  When they would argue, I promise you it was hysterical.  I asked them what it was like arguing with the guy in the mirror.  Hand gestures, same side eye.  Most of all they were true to themselves.  Both of them would say fuck you and move on if crossed.  They meant that shit to the core.  If one of you were cut off by either it would be final and it would not be recoverable.  They loved just as fiercely.

 

The more we meet friends of Gary’s the more we understand the guy he’s been in his everyday existence.  My impressions of the men in his life are as follows.

 

1.     Shane & Amy.  They are a matched set.  They love tenaciously and without fear.  But, Shane.  He is like Gary, without malice, quick to laugh, wicked sense of humor.  Shane has said in no uncertain terms that there are escapades with Gary that he will take to his grave.  Not everyone needs to know everything. Shane & Amy came to the rescue when Gary was in particularly strange situation and their house was sanctuary.  Shane came and indulged Gary’s manic flight of ideas; patient with him, knowing he was going to be pulled and pushed in different ways.  Shane is like the rest of us, he doesn’t like people, but he loves Gary without hesitation and with a willingness to announce to the world, as he tells Gary, I love you man.

 

2.     Daniel.  Another good man who will take some things to his grave that relate to Gary. Daniel has no malice.  He did let one story out from their carefree days.  A memory shared with laughter.  Gary has always played things close to the vest.  No one really knows what has gone on in Gary’s head, he doesn’t ever give everyone all the information.  Today I saw the most ridiculously tender moment between Gary and Daniel.  Gary and Daniel have known each other likely for more years than they were strangers.  A testament to Daniel being able to just have an easy friendship with Gary.  As Daniel talked to me today, he said he hadn’t known Gary was an engineer until recently.  What he did agree with us is, Gary is brilliant. To that I also say, Gary wouldn’t have been able to really hang with someone who didn’t have any brain power.  It wouldn’t have been possible.  As Daniel sat with Gary, they were both quiet.  Gary reached out and put his hand on Daniel’s head.  Daniel stayed right there in the moment, stick still.  And then the tears came for both he and Gary.   I love you buddy.  It was genuine.  **is there anything worse than a man crying?  Impossible to go without tears of you who are seeing it**

 

3.     John, my BIL.  John is younger than Gary.  Just by a couple of years. I feel curtain this has been a difficult thing to deal with.  Gary was around when John and Kristy started dating.  That’s a long time.  John drove 10+ hours to come to Alabama and see Gary.  He was a godsend for one thing… he understands Gary’s language with tools and organizing the 7 zillion things Gary has purchased in the last month.  John patiently listened to Gary’s requests.  Then he got up and did things that needed doing while Gary slept and got the hell out of the house if I was giving Gary tough love.  That tough love typically equals me yelling at him with a quick “I’ve had it” moment.  It’s been hard on John already and hearing the raising of voices is just the cherry on top.  John fixed or fixed as much as possible, around the house.  He also moved around furniture to suit Gary’s manic flight of ideas and an inability to stay on task.  John was so patient with him.  He knew all of the right spots to joke or agree with Gary.  He understood when Gary was worn out and needed to rest and took Gary’s queues innately.  John and I learned to speak with only our eyes. Had to be done!  Moral to this story is no one can be more appreciative of his kindness.  Another good man.  John is a good cut up too.  Never a dull moment but also a good example of someone who must be pretty smart.  You have to be to stand on the same level with Gary.

 

Gary and John have a unique relationship.  They both lost Dad. Dad lived with John and Kristy for the last 12 years.  For Dad being a pain in the ass, he was like the other men I have listed, without malice, he was good to have around.  Even though John isn’t blood surely doesn’t mean that John didn’t lose some one important.  Gary wanted more time with Dad and we couldn’t quite get there.

 

Each of these men love fiercely and love Gary that way.  He may have played things close to the vest, but you always knew where you stood with him.  Gary stood with these men.

Gary & Dad Chronicles - Nails - Entry 6

 The Gary & Dad Chronicles – Getting my nails done

 

When Dad was in the hospital in January, we couldn’t go visit.  We were finally allowed but my sister and my brother were at my house.  There was so much going on.  I typically have a nail appointment late Monday every other week.  So, we knew that Dad was going to be transferred to my center on that Monday, I rescheduled my appointment.  I think I had been without nails for 3 weeks for some reason.  So, I made an appointment for Tuesday morning at 8:30a.  Both Kristy and I had moved all kinds of things around at that point. Nearly all of the time Gary was in was spent dealing with Dad day.

 

So, Dad gets to my center at about 5pm.  Rolled in and my sister, brother and I got all gowned and gloved up and went in to see him once he was settled.  He had COVID so we had to get dressed up like little yellow PEEPs.

 

We all got time with him, he looked just like he was sleeping according to Gary.  He did.  We hadn’t done any live saving stuff, so he wasn’t jacked up from all the “do everything” interventions.. 

 

7:30am the next morning the nurses called to let us know he had died.  The three of us were standing there frozen in time.  I asked if the other two wanted to go in and see him.  Gary said hell no.  Kristy didn’t know what the right thing to do was.  I told her there was no right and no wrong.

 

Kristy asked what I was going to do.  I said go and get my nails done, then I would be into the center.  No more cancelling nail appointments.  Dad would be in the exact same shape when I got there as he was currently.

 

Fast forward to present day and this brother of mine coming into the inpatient unit to get pain and anxiety managed.  He wants me to stay tonight.  Tomorrow, too and for days to come.  So, I say to my sister, I need to get my nails done.

 

Then it occurred to me these Louk men keep messing up my nail schedule. It’s rude.

 

Gary Chronicles - Entry 5 - This bitch....

What folks tell you about a patient who is your family is nothing.  Just all of it. No one can prepare the family who thinks they know what it's going to be.  It is the hospice nurse who knows to the ground she is nothing but office help at this point and doesn't know what is up or down.  My sister Kristy is the real powerhouse in the caretaking business.

So drugs.  They are a beautiful thing except for the time when they decided to have a upside down and sideways effect.  It wildly swings from funny to infuriating and begging for quiet while he is in his mania!

Comedy was this evening's menu.  All things are extra from him.  He asks for something to drink, you get up to get it and he calls your name and says it again.  Well, Kristy's the name he calls.  He doesn't get that he JUST asked the question.

Tonight was the progression of him being willing to take us at our teasing as teasing.  Sometimes he has to be reminded that there is still sarcasm in this life and that we are not out to get him.  He is the WORST with his partner of 25+/- years.  If there is something weird that happens while Meg is in the house, he will lash out and think the worst of her, first thing.  Not deserved, btw.  You know I would say if it were!!

When the yellow/tan skeleton decides that he needs to be walking around, everyone holds their breath!  He is off balance and has fallen, held up by my BIL, John to avert another fall.  He likely weighs 90 lbs.

Non-sense comes out of his mouth.  Sometimes he can weave a story and then provide us clarity on the one piece that is missing.  Then we catch up.  He turns something on TV (which has to run all the time) and becomes agitated because Kristy is on her phone, I am on my computer or my phone and it doesn't feel like anyone is watching WITH him.  Irritated.  If he is watching and listening he shushes us.  If we watch with him and are into it, he wants to tell every story with every distraction and then roll back for the TV show and start over.  It's nuts.

He had an infection in his eye.  He could barely open it and was in pain.  We got abx and eye drops for him from hospice.  Ornery, no on the abx, they don't taste good.  No, he's tired and doesn't want to do eye drops.  

Fast forward to today.  Can hospice get me to an EN&T to check my ears, says he.  My eyes are getting better but my ears still have fluid and are stuffed.  So I say.....remember that abx we got from hospice?  If you had actually taken that you would likely be over.  Now, he's taking it.  Also he had 2 contacts in.  Refused to take it out.  Either of them; until a friend came over and took it out for him.

Had me make him an eye doctor appointment.  His prescription isn't updated so he needs order new contacts. Ahem.  New contacts?  OK...what are you gonna do? How long will you live to wear them?  I'm the one who delivers the bad news.

His ability to swallow is on the brink of not being a thing.  He is on so much medication that the use of the liquid meds we have in the house is going to be so insignificant.  The hospice has an inpatient unit.  We are hoping to get him in there for some IV medications continuously.  We will see.  We call and check in daily to see if there is a bed.

His belly is starting to swell.  He will likely need to be tapped.  It is starting to make it hard for him to deep breathe.

So we are in the confusion/sort of crazy/paranoid/funny/grouchy/needy/demanding/whispering/yelling/asshole/LOUK man!

Just keep swimming.....

Gary Chronicles - Entry 4 - Muskrat

 So...Gary has had 100 lives.  He has been in car accidents, so drunk he has fallen asleep on his 4-wheeler,  and I could go on and on.  It started when he was 3 and his mom got in a car accident that was impressive in its severity.  Gary was in a body cast for a bit.  But now, our story.

Once upon a time, around a year ago plus or minus a few months, Gary was in a car accident.  He was so much more than drunk it was crazy to me.  I have never been drunk that way.  Not ever.  Not once.  I don't know what he drank but he ran into the ditch.  He ran into a BIG ditch.  He totaled his car.  He hit so hard the steering wheel SNAPPED the fuck IN HALF!  That's pretty hard.  Have any of you ever been in an accident and snapped the wheel in half?  Ever?  Have you ever been drunk enough to snap the steering wheel in half?  How about not wearing a seat belt and end up only with an egg on the forehead?  This kid did.  He was drunk enough to be a rubber band and just bounce.

A friend came out to help my SIL to get him somewhere, keep him calm, really to help him not do anything stupid.  I'm help him not to another stupid thing.

Of course the police came.  They asked him what happened.  He told them he saw a muskrat and swerved to miss him.  A muskrat.  That's the animal he picked.  Of all the critters that could be out in the road.  A muskrat.  What in the thundering blue hell is a muskrat, for the love?!?!?

My SIL called me because most times I can calm him down and he listens to me.  Not this time.  He was telling hospital staff they didn't know who he was, and he was going to call the mayor!  Dialing and they whole deal.  I got on the phone and told him all the calm down things.  He said he wasn't going to calm down and said goodbye with a "love you long time" and hung up on me.

OK, so let's get back to the muskrat.  When the laughter came back enough times he looked up the muskrat.  Gary lives in north Alabama.  There are wetlands rodents.  They look like a cross between a gopher and beaver.  Anyway, they are all over the U.S.  For his convenience he decided that they live in north Alabama and southeast Tennessee.  It fit his narrative.

So, in honor of him, every critter on the side of the road or we see scamper and can't recognize, is a muskrat.

That was the backstory. Someone came to house and he was telling the story about the muskrat and the snapped steering wheel and said, "the car swerved, the ditch did not."

Gary Chronicles - Entry 3 - Lobster

 For those of you who don't know, the dying process is pretty consistent.  No longer wanting food or water or anything else to drink is all part and parcel.  Gary is at that stage.

Each night when we girls, either 2 or 3, go somewhere to eat he askes for us to take a picture of the menu so he can have us bring something back.  We have pretty successfully gone no where except the hotel restaurant.  It's tasty, consistently good and the service is fantastic.  We go and send the menu to Gary and he puts in his order for 7 or 8 things.  We bring it back to him, he takes 2 bites and is finished.  This is consistent, no harm no foul.  Until....

H2O is the name of the restaurant.  It's pricey but I have explained the reasons why we still go.  Last night he decides he wants the Lobster Fettuccini.  This meal includes a full pound of lobster incorporated into the pasta and fancy sauce.  Gary decides this is what he would like to have.  He sends through his order.

In writing...

Gary: Bring me the Lobster Fettuccini.

Me: How about some buttered noodles.

Gary: I want the Lobster Fettuccini.

Me: How about some buttered noodles.

He calls me.  He wants to know why he can't have the Lobster Fettuccini.  I tell him what happens with food.  He orders a shit load, we bring a shit load back, he takes 2 bites and is done.  Meg, his partner of 23 years already knows all of this.  She has spent the last 2 years eating whatever crazy thing he orders.  No sense in ordering 2 meals when she knows the one will feed both of them.

So I tell him I will not by $43 plate of Lobster Fettuccini for him to take one bite.  He is quiet for a minute and says, I see what you are saying.  He got buttered noodles.

Now before all of you hospice-y types start to say it is what he wants, just get it.  No.  We have indulged his every whim to this point.  Lobster is the cut off.

So, here we are in the hotel room.  Calamari, part of some fish or another sandwich, other pasta, chocolate cake, ice cream, cookies, churros, ginger ale, apple juice, water, milk, gatorade and Malibu Rum are present in our kitchenette.  If he can't find something that suits him in all of that, he's just not trying.  He also isn't trying!  He's dying.  He wants tactile stimulation.  Nothing tastes right.  Eat something else that doesn't taste like Lobster that won't taste like Lobster.

Eat that. 

The girls contented that I am in the only one who could tell him no Lobster and he wouldn't be bent out of shape.  Whatever it is, still no Lobster! 

Gary Chronicles - Entry 2 - The Fob

So you know, these things may not be in chronological order for happening.  They are consistent with the times I think of them!

Gary is a smart ass.  I can't imagine where he came from as none of his other family members are.  Ahem.

We have taken Gary to Pensacola Beach this week.  We were going to go to a movie last night and my car broke down.  Well, the battery decided that it was no longer capable of running this challenge. 

Gary decided the reason my car wasn't starting, in fact we couldn't even unlock it, was because of the fob needing a battery.  He's stubborn.  Also a trait I am quite sure you would never find in our family.  Ahem, again.

Here is the run down on the car.  I parked it on Sunday afternoon when we got here.  I went to try to start it again on Wednesday evening when we were going to see Top Gun.  The car was completely and totally dead.  Like the Wicked Witch in Oz, most sincerely dead.  Ford has this neat thing on the side of the door where you can program a combination and get into the car when needed.  The light up wasn't even lighting up.  It refused to be locked or unlocked. Again, red slippers, black & white stripped leggings. Dead.

I am a wretched evil person about a car breaking down.  My sister and/or I could regale you with stories of being stranded.  Dad did it.  Ever hear "the cobbler's sons go shoeless?" That is us.  The cobbler's daughters.  Dad was a good guy and helped everyone.  Could work on anything and fix it.  Genius really.  Just not as much brain power put into our cars.  So they broke down.  He knew how to fix them but had some kind of metal block with the word "preventative" regarding maintenance.  The added feature of me having had the fob come apart in another bag and the inside key being in that bag, in Virginia, doesn't help me today.

Just like Scarlett swore she would never go hungry again, I have refused in my adult life to have a vehicle that I wasn't sure about, every single time.  This is my first experience like this in roughly 26 years.  Yes, I can describe the exact moment I experienced this previously.  That's not what the story is about but you now know it is one of my pain points.

Gary: It has to be the fob

Me: It isn't the fob

Gary: Yes it is.  There is a key inside the fob.

Me: I know, there should be but it fell out and is in another bag.

Gary: No you need to take the fob apart.

Me: I know that.  I know about this key.  I know it should be there.  I also know it is in the bottom of another bag because the fob, this fob, this one right here, kept coming open and the key fell out.

Gary: So you don't have the key. **blink, blink**  There is a battery in the fob that we will need to replace.

Me: It isn't the fob. The entire car is dead.  All of it, no signs of life, zero, none. No little numbers on the door to enter the lock pin, even.  Done.  Dead.

The banter about the fob continues along this way.  Then Kristy gets into the act.  She has been the lone ranger of management of crisis for so long she autopilots into what needs to be done.  All the Louk children are youtubing and researching and, and, and.

Today I called the insurance company and entered service for someone to come and unlocked the door.  That key we talked about, that would have opened the door but it wasn't here, because it's in another bag, in Virginia.  Someone came out, popped the lock, jumped the car and I drove straight to Ford.  The battery was completely shot, a new one replaced it's sad predecessor and bing, bang, boom, Trixie is back on her pretty black wheels.  

It's a relief!  The aforementioned mood/attitude I caught was defused.

Fast forward to tonight.  Gary asks, "was it the fob?" Nope.  Not the fob.  The fob is fine.  Except for that key in my other bag, in Virginia, the fob is fine.

Upshot.  We added an extra night to the vacation in case the car would be stuck under a house for a while, ruby slippers outstretched.  That gave us time to figure things out.  Now the car works.  The fob, the one that was never broken...the one that had a key in it that fell out in my bag, the bag in Virginia...that fob is in perfect working order.  The battery is now in perfect working order.  We have an extra day on the beach. Perfect.  At least it was simple....

Dad Chronicles - July 2021 - Feb 1, 2022

 Much like the Gary Chronicles, these are the musings of time spent, ridiculous happenings, fun things, infuriating things and things that never could have happened had I not gotten divorced.  I'm so thankful for that one thing.  For many reasons, but one of the most important is that my house is open to my family and friends once again.

The X and I called it quits.  He moved out in June of  2020.  I sold our house in July 2021 and moved to the condo that had been my MIL's right across the sidewalk.  Yes, that MIL....where all the chronicles originated. My life has been a series of chronicles, it would seem.

July of 2021 equaled my dad calling me at 5pm on a Saturday and saying, 

Dad: "Hi, baby.  What are you doing?"

Me: "Nothing, just sitting here with Noodle"

Dad: "I'm going to come by and see you."

Me: "Ok, see you when you get here." or words to that effect.

This Saturday night call wasn't just for the evening.  It was him coming over for the evening for about a week.  He would come over, we would shoot the shit, get something to eat, talk until the wee hours and snuggle with Noodle.  He probably came and did that about 1-ish times a month.

If someone had been man enough to take care of me and not to cheat on me, I would never have had this time with my dad.  Well worth it.  100% the better outcome all the way around.

Dad would always drink to much and listen to the TV on 7000 decibels and talk about the old days.  Some stories I had heard before, some I hadn't.  I'm sure they were embellished, but it was his right to embellish.  Some stories I would recount he would remember and other things he had never been told before or couldn't remember.

My sister is a saint.  Straight up, heaven bound if there is such a thing.  She's in easy!  Dad was sick about 10-12 years ago with an abscess on his spine.  It was the beginning of an odyssey that lasted until Feb 1 2022 for her.  After he had been sick he moved in with her and my BIL's family.  He was hard on her.  He was something.  Woke my mother up EVERY morning at 4:30a and said, "Brenda, have you seen my keys?"  Every.  Day.  I don't know how she didn't smother him in his sleep. Truly.  His eccentricities changed, came and went, got better, got worse.  It was a new day every day.  Kristy had to manage that for 12 years.  She'd do it again, probably.  That doesn't mean it wasn't herculean. Because it sure was.  

This is the place where I tell all of you that relief is not only ok but a reality for just about anyone losing someone they love.  Especially if  they have had to take continuous care of the person.  It just is.

And so I was able to have dad around more often.  He had a room, a bathroom to himself.  He knew he was welcome anytime for as long as he wanted.  Some times he stayed more than one week.

And that is the real beginning of the Dad Chronicles and these intersecting with the Gary Chronicles. 

Gary Chronicles - Entry 1 - Here is Why and What

So here is the thing.  I don't want to put this stuff on my facebook.  He's on my facebook and for as long as he is alive the stories belong to him.  Once they are mine completely, maybe.

These are the chronicles of my brother Gary.  As we speak Gary is 43 years old.  He will never be older than that.  Gary and I don't share blood.  He is half brother to my sister.  They have the same dad.  My sister, Kristy is my half sister.  We have the same mom.  Still, I love him.  That's that.

March of 2020 brought a diagnosis of Stage 4 Colon Cancer.  It had already metastasized to his liver.  His oncologist ( I refer to him as my boyfriend, you'll find out) told him there was no getting out of it.  Turns out there was a half of a flipped switch from his mom and half a flipped switch from dad that made this cancer absolutely unavoidable.  At some point it was just going to be there. Down the line we discover that his doc and others had been prompting him to go to the doc over some symptoms and he didn't.  Times years.  So no surprise it was already in his liver.

Sharing a dad made it important for my sister to get checked out before she could turn 40.  She's fine, thank the stars, but she will be vigilant.

Gary said from the start he wanted to travel and for all of us to go with him so he could spend time with us.  The following trips happened:

April 2021 - Gaitlinburg, TN.  Whole family, the whole mess of us.  Dad, Kristy and my BIL John, Gary and my SIL Megan, me and all the dogs.  Gary & Megan's Lola and Atlas.  My Noodle.  Good times for sure.

September 2021 - Jekyll Island, GA.  Just the two of us.  It was a great trip.  We laughed and ate good food and drank good drinks.

Now we are at June 2022 and we are in Pensacola Beach, FL.  Me, Kristy, Gary & Megan.  He is perched on the absolute edge of death.  We are just waiting for it and trying to get his final bucket list items in.  I don't think he really wanted to go to the beach.  He doesn't like the beach.  He does like restaurants and bars and shops and the whole thing.  We have been here for 3.5 days and he has walked downstairs twice and been on the patio maybe 2 times at most.  He has been on the couch 20 out of 24 hours of every day.  Sleeping for much of it.

He has a 43 year old heart and lungs that aren't sure what they need to do, but they are pretty convinced it is not time to die.  So is he.  Still.  He's coming around to it and knows where he is.  He doesn't like it.  That makes all of us.

We put him on hospice and promptly left for the beach.  That was a rough day.  He could have had hospice WAY before this but he has an oncologist (I struggle to respect this breed) who doesn't understand the regulations and how they could have coexisted.  Also not willing to learn.

This is the back story on the Gary Chronicles.  More to follow.....