Letters to you

You would have been 90 years old today. It would have been some bash. Still hurting over early checkout. I hope somehow that you still are, and that it is good.

My mom's life insurance check arrived in the mail. At first I thought it was some sort of ad. You know, the kind that say, "This is not a check - you may have won this amount" or "Get this amount as a rebate if you buy our million-dollar product". But it was not an ad - it was a check. After the initial reaction of "I don't want this money from the insurance company. I want my mother back", it began to sink in that I had a Check (TM). I should have kept my thoughts more of a secret from my house. My house knows when something like this happens. It always knows.

The week after I received the check, my A/C died a dramatic death. We found oil under the unit, and no refrigerant in the unit (we don't exactly know where that went, because there was no refrigerant under the unit). The A/C man who came by replenished the refrigerant for which he charged me quite a bit, but failed to find the leak. Five minutes after he left, the fan died and the refrigerant was down two pounds. We called him back. Several hundreds of dollars worth of tests later, he still hadn't found the leak. He was going to do some more tests, and was starting to recommend a new unit. I'd about had it with him. He was strange, slow, and possibly trying to get more money. I called him back and told him we were giving up on getting more tests. He called back and dropped the price on his new unit proposal by a thousand dollars, and offered to do the last test for free. I thought it sounded like a good deal. Too good. No dice.

So... Rialian hired another company who had serviced laurelinde's unit when it went bad. I wanted to get a second opinion. Of course, this one was even worse (money-wise) than the last. He gave me a choice - try to fix this one (if he could) which would cost about the same as the last guy charged, and give it another 5 years of life (maybe), or get a new one. At first I wanted to try to fix the old one. But then, the prospect of never having to worry about this ancient appliance again began to look attractive. He examined the inside unit as well, and also the furnace, which came with the house in 84 when I got it. It's probably around 50 years old. No parts exist for it outside of a junkyard (reminds me of Smurf). It still works, it's not emitting noxious fumes, and there were no holes that he could see in the coils. However, the coils were layered with about 2 inches of rust, dust, and debris, so he couldn't really tell.

Of course, he said, "I'll give you a package deal on a new furnace and A/C unit".

I have the money now. I may not have it later when the furnace actually goes, which also could be a dangerous thing. If I do it now that's one more thing I don't have to worry about. So...

My house always knows when I can do something like this. How does it know? How can it know anything - it's just a bunch of old wood and plaster. Or is it...?

I went to Borders to use a birthday gift card from my brother. After staring at rows of useless books, I ordered a copy of Wild Fermentation so we can have a lending copy but retain one for everyday use. Then I walked toward the music section, hoping they'd have something there that I'd like. On the way to the music section, I passed through the audio books and noticed a copy of "The Fallen". This is a story about a detective who falls out a window, and from then on he has synesthesia. His particular form of synesthesia allows him to see people's emotions as form and color, which is useful to a detective if the emotions don't match the words. I figured this theme had been done before (Steven King?), but thought to myself, "Mom would probably like this - maybe I should pick it up for her". And then the next thought was, "that will lo longer be necessary".

I quickly left the store. Just as well. It was time to head back, and there was nothing there.

This poem was written by Arjun Janah (a.k.a., Babui), one of my college friends. He met my mother maybe 3 times 30 years ago. He remained in touch with me over the years (one of the two people who did -- the other one's in Switzerland).

Even though so much time has elapsed, and even though he only saw her a few times, he remembers my mother accurately.

He just sent me this poem:


Is She Gone, Then?

I knew her for a little while,
But still remember well her smile,
Her gentle wit, her calm, her grace,
Those eyes, so kind, that lit her face…

Where has she gone, those left behind
Now often ask, as in each mind
She lives, and does, with each, converse...
If only we could death reverse!

But no, she's gone, and won't return,
What's left is ashes in an urn…
And yet, and yet, she never died,
But only sleeps, from life untied…

Ah come, ah come, then wake again,
Feel sun and cold, and pleasure, pain…
This weekend, we will visit you,
Have coffee, yes, and cookies too…

Babui / Arjun Janah
2007 April 16th, Mon.
Berkeley, California

my mom was in an accident. broken pelvis. cracked ribs. admitted critical. cardiac arrest. didn't make it. I am shocked/sick now.

September 24 1917 to April 12 2007. Died when she was in good health (still doing exercises every day), never had to experience the disability and loss of freedom that many people in their 90s do. So I rationalize. I stop rationalizing now - there is no rational now.

Mom, was it time now?

Did you want to go yet? you were doing great..

I guess if there is an afterlife you can see Dad now.

I guess.

If there is.

Mom?

Can you hear me?

Mom???

Good night sweet saint who loved me all my life and who never said an unkind word to anyone.

I loved you. I love you. I'm glad I saw you last Sunday.

I guess the birthday party's off, huh. Just like it was when dad died on april 8.

4 days apart.

Just like you, twins that you were.

I miss you

Already

shock

goodnight

I went to visit my mom today to see how she was doing. She seems to be doing really well -- at least for now. She continued physical therapy, and is now able to raise her arm above her head, whereas they told her she never would be able to do that. The dizziness and unsteadiness that caused the falls in the first place has pretty much disappeared since going off the Liptor and the anti-seizure drug they gave her (she never had seizures and her cholesterol is fine).

The only problem now is, she has to have an injection on the 14th to stop macular degeneration in her right eye. in most cases the degeneration stops after three injections of this stuff and in 40% of cases vision actually improves. The only problem is, there are possible side effects. We reviewed the side effects, and she made the decision to go through with it, since the possible benefits would be worth it to her. Let's hope this works and that there are no side effects.

Other than that, everything seems good. To my surprise, she told me that she'd done 45 minutes of exercises this morning. Wow. I'm rather impressed. If she can do 45 minutes of exercises at age 89, then so can I. I do anyway, but that's added incentive to keep going. Maybe that's who I caught the exercise bug from.

Last night I dreamed that my mother told me that dad was selling our houses and they and I were packing up and taking a plane to "California".

When I realized that they were going to take a plane rather than drive, because it would be "a forty-hour drive and we don't have time for that," I started screaming that I refuse to ever get on an airplane again in this lifetime. I also asked "what about rialian"? Where is aekiy going to live? But they said they'd have to find an alternative because, you see, we were going. I also asked about my job, but was told that none of that mattered. We were moving to California and that was that.

The whole prospect disturbed me much more than a deceased person trying to sell our houses.

California - I've always wished to somehow be a part of that hotbed of ideas where it all seems to start. I have also wished we would have some of that attitude here. But it also represents death - falling into the ocean. Secession from the union. The unknown. The jumping off point. California...

Yesterday I found out that my mother's doctor had prescribed Lipitor to lower her cholesterol, because "her cholesterol was too high". Instead of recommending dietary changes, or higher fiber content in her food, he prescribed something that causes symptoms similar to muscular distrophy.

As a result, she was very wobbly on her legs, and a few days ago she lost her balance and fractured one or more ribs. The CAT scan showed that the fracture was angular, meaning it could puncture her heart or lung "if it's in the wrong place". She may require thoracic surgury.

Prior to the fall, she had been complaining of wobbliness, muscular weakness, and swelling ever since she started the Lipitor, which had increased when they added Plavix to her prescriptions. She had experienced some small blackouts over the past several years. They examined her, took an MRI, found nothing, and prescribed Plavix "to see if it would help".

Here are a few facts about Plavix. According to the above website, this fine medication can cause gastrointestinal bleeding or brain bleeding. Mixing with aspirin is very much not adviseable. Her doctor told her to increase her aspirin intake to make sure her blood pressure was low.

The drug store fact sheets that I read for both of these crugs said not to mix Lipitor and Plavix, and recommended not to give them to the elderly or the very young.

My conclusion is that the insurance companies don't want to pay for my mom to continue living any longer. She's taking out of their system more than she's coughing up. So they intend to kill her.

In stead of making a big splash about it by trying to convince old people to have an "assisted suicide", I think they're actually giving doctors kickbacks to prescribe drugs that are intended to, and will kill her. They prescribed the same stuff to my dad (Lipitor) and he had the same symptoms similar to muscular dystrophy. He could hardly hold a spoon toward the end. We thought he had a stroke, but there had never been any sign of a stroke. His muscles just slowly stopped working. LIPITOR IS BAD NEWS PEOPLE, DON'T TAKE IT, DON'T LET ANYONE PRESCRIBE IT TO YOU, IF YOUR PARENTS ARE TAKING IT TELL THEM TO STOP.

My family's main fallacy is to assume that doctors, though flawed, are basically good people and want to help those who are ill. While this may be true of some, I see now that it's not always true, and most of them are just interested in being accepted by the club and keeping on top of the bottom line.

f they continue to help her live a healthy life into her 90s, they'll go bankrupt. They want her to die, and they're prescribing medicine to make that happen in a timely fashion. They're trying to kill my mother.

I had told her to quit the Lipitor and Plavix before she fell, but she told me that it was to help her and she wanted to take it. After the fall she stopped taking them. As soon as she quit taking the Lipitor and Plavix she stopped feeling wobbly. I hope the thoracic surgeon says she doesn't need surgery - it doesn't hurt as much as before - but she has an appointment later today to make sure. Doctors are good at fixing bones and getting rid of bacterial or fungal infections, and that's about it.

God. They didn't even know what the blackouts were - at first they assumed "small strokes" and then they tought "seizures". They just prescribed Plavix "to see if it would help". Good god. I think I'm going to be sick. She has thalacemia and partially blocked neck arteries. It was probably a combination of those two things. But they used that as an excuse to prescribe something that would kill her. No, I think they should be the ones to go, because quite honestly I like her better than I like them.

Hence the title of this post.

My mom turned 88 today. At dinner, she told me she won't be driving anymore. The macular degeneration has progressed too far to correct with glasses, and one eye is getting a cataract. Also, the arm she broke a few months ago caused her to stop driving for a while, and that arm still isn't too strong (it's healed a lot but still needs therapy).
I suggested surgery for the cataract, but I don't think she thinks it's worth it.

I had always wanted the decision to stop driving to be her decision, and it was. I never said anything. She said it herself. My uncle had tried to pretend he was talking about something else when he whispered to my brother "the doctor said her vision is marginal". He was trying to get us to make her stop driving. What I guess he didn't know is that her doctor had already told her and she had told me.

Later she said that when she's feeling low, a little drink of Drambuie before bed helps.

Having no idea what Drambuie is, I looked it up...
http://www.drambuie.com/what.shtml
Ah, so it's a type of whisky. Its name derives from a Gaelic phrase meaning "The drink that satisfies". "An dram buidheach."

I just found out that my mom fell flat on her face, bruised her lip badly, broke her arm, and damaged her rotator cuff probably semi-permanently (will require therapy for a long time). I'm going over there now. See you when I resurface.