Category Archives: Family

Eldercare Round 3

Holy crap, it has been one hell of a week! On Tuesday night, after my father-in-law was admitted to the hospital following multiple incidents of falling and fainting, doctors ran a bunch of tests and concluded that the culprit was leukemia, specifically CMML. The physician suggested a series of chemo treatments (to start the very next day: Wednesday, January 25), with the goal of providing two years of “good quality of life.” Say, what? Just. like. that. Life changes in a flash.

On Tuesday evening, J used his United MileagePlus points (once again… the only airline that offers non-gouging award flights on zero notice) to fly out first thing Wednesday morning. He already had a trip planned back East for February 1, but given the complexity and severity of the situation, sooner seemed better. The family delayed the chemo start one more day so they could discuss the approach further amongst themselves and seek additional clarification from the doctor. My FIL was very apprehensive about undergoing such a plan with his advanced age, but after further consultation, chemo emerged as the only true option forward.

J’s presence has been instrumental in handling meals for his mom, shuttling her to the hospital to visit dad, and keeping track of all the medical info. Similar to my experience in May 2015 when my grandfather underwent brain surgery and was laid up in the ICU, J is exhausted doing all these things that fall under the generic yet inadequate umbrella term of “caretaking.” Jesus, that term totally does not do the role justice.

Anyway, so far the chemo has gone well. J says Dad goes in and out of lucidity (supposedly very common among old folks) and he is increasingly weak, but the doctor says the post scans and blood results show the treatment is performing as expected. Good news! 

Full Day of Research

As soon as I woke up this morning, I called my parents. I’m actually surprised I didn’t get the usual call from them on Friday or Saturday night… anyway, they are gearing up for another trip back to Asia, and honestly, my dad did not sound or look well. He is stressed.

He keeps saying there’s too much to do and he’s trying to simplify, but I dunno: I feel like it’s a year later and he still hasn’t offloaded multiple properties that were already pending last year… it’s complicated. And then when I asked him about the primary residence, again, he said the house behind them is for sale so there’s too much competition.

I repeated to him that we have limited time, and we lived and enjoyed the family home for many decades. It doesn’t have to have a high return on investment, bc it’s not an investment property. Ugh. He always agrees, but then when push comes to shove, he basically sticks with his original thinking. In other words, he verbally agrees, but then his actions don’t. It’s frustrating.

I also reiterated that he and mom need to decide where they want to live: Taiwan or the US, bc we are going to need to start researching places, esp given mom’s declining mental state. I asked if mom even likes living in Taiwan, and he said he didn’t know. See? That’s how damn detached my family is from their emotions. Everything is a pragmatic decision to the point that they don’t even recognize having preferences or wants. Argh!!

I then said I wanted to speak to mom, and as he walked the phone (Facetime) upstairs, he started to cry, saying yes, take the opportunity now to talk to her while she still knows who we are… And then my heart just kind of broke.

After all these years, I have only seen my father cry a handful of times. He didn’t even cry when his mother died. I tried to stay strong and focus on next actions. Last week, Johnny had emailed dad all this stuff about the benefits of meditation in combating dementia. I didn’t read the email, but I had seen the subject line since my dad has me monitor his email. I asked dad, and he just said he couldn’t ever rely on my brother and he didn’t read any of that. He didn’t print it out for mom either, bc she won’t be able to read and understand it. It’s true: Johnny linked to like medical abstracts and shit… I mean, I guess he’s trying to appeal to my dad’s medical background to convince/persuade him, but Jesus Christ, my father is no longer in that state. He is clearly overwhelmed.

Still, I’m glad Johnny brought up the topic, bc it is indeed true. So I told my dad that I would research meditation and yoga exercises and send them forward. I pretty much researched shit all day long: I combed through YouTube to find decent guided exercises— one in meditation and then several for chair yoga. My parents need to fucking get moving! Seriously, their isolation and sedentary lifestyle is only worsening their decline! And this is certainly a reminder that I need to get my own activity levels going…

After that research, I started looking into assisted living options. There are A LOT in this area, and I even found a Chinese community, but it’s kinda gross inside. And my dad likes shit new, clean, and fancy. I cross-referenced a bunch of sources: Yelp, Caring.com, US News & World Reports… I have a list now but shit, maybe I’ll just drop in and tour a few. Price-wise, holy shit that crap is expensive. We’re talking $7k-$9k/month and I don’t even know if that includes having to buy the property or what. Argh!! J also suggested looking a bit father out, like maybe Walnut Creek or Morgan Hill…

And then I suddenly felt so deflated. I mean, how scary to not know where to live and then to enter into a community where you don’t know anybody… My parents aren’t exactly social people, and… I dunno. Thinking about the whole thing just made me so sad. I mean, fortunately, my parents have resources, but shit, while they are rich in resources, they are certainly poor in friendships and in community. I was glad to find many of the places offering programs for dementia and Alzheimer’s, but then I was thinking: how uncomfortable will it be for dad if he has to hang out with all dementia people? Is it better then to have them buy a condo/residence and then we hire in-home care? I just don’t know, and I doubt that they even know. Then, it’s like: should they live with us? Seems unlikely and yet I worry about them finding a suitable place. And now I see the dilemmas they’ve been facing all along with my grandparents… This life shit really does come full circle, right? I’m feeling so overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, my father in-law fell multiple times last week. Then his feet started swelling and now he’s in the hospital until Tuesday. His bloodwork shows a serious infection: he received multiple blood transfusions and is now on oxygen. Before, doctors thought he had Parkinson’s bc he seemed to respond to those meds, but now they are suspecting leukemia or MDS. My mind is racing in a gabillion directions right now. I’m gonna have to start up on that meditation shit myself.

Vulnerability

So my father called me this morning about mom’s MRI results. Not good. While the contusions appear minor (at less than 1 cm2), there is definitely white matter that, coupled with her failed results on the cognitive tests, suggests something is def abnormal. The doctor suggested doing another MRI with contrast dye in another month to see if anything changes… At this point, there are further tests that can confirm whether this is Alzheimer’s or “regular” dementia (80% of dementia cases turn out to be Alzheimer’s), but Alzheimer’s seems to be the likely scenario (my maternal grandmother has it right now). There’s no cure for Alzheimer’s, just meds to slow its progression. And of course, those meds have side effects. My dad didn’t say specifically what those are… Dad’s doctor friend suggested that giving mom more things to do and handle would be good for her brain. I’m trying to think about what puzzles or such she would even have the capacity to do. I dunno.

Both dad and I were kinda matter-of-fact about everything on the phone. I suppose a part of me isn’t that surprised, but now I’m feeling regretful that so many times in the past, I reacted so angrily to her confusion. I really am the worst.

As soon as I got off the phone, J asked if she was afraid. I don’t even know. I didn’t ask. When I talked to her, it was our usual distant, random conversation. Forty years later, I still don’t know how to have a real relationship with my parents. And that makes me sad. I spend all this time and effort trying to build my emotional/social intelligence so I can connect better with friends and strangers and yet I am completely unable to exert the same effort for my parents. Why? I have interacted with them using frustration and anger and contempt for so fucking long, I don’t even know how to find the other emotions!

This evening, I was on the phone with dad doing tech support. He seemed more energetic than usual about learning how to do stuff… maybe he freshly motivated knowing he’ll need to step up his game to take care of my mom, or maybe he’s trying harder so as to not doubly frustrate me. Despite his new verve, I sensed a vulnerability in him that I hadn’t noticed before. I wonder about this process of spending your entire adult life loving one person, building and raising a family together, and then knowing that slowly, that person will become less and less recognizable. What must that decline and growing distance feel like? The loss of the mind. The loss of your best friend and life companion. It’s a very scary thing.

Earlier today, I did some weird mental exercise where I ranked possible illnesses and diseases for my mother. Would it be better if she had cancer? A stroke? kidney disease? I worry about my capacity for kindness and compassion towards my mother, especially since our communication has always been tenuous. If I can’t communicate with her, or she can’t grasp what’s happening, or she doesn’t know who we are… what do we do? And how incredibly lonely and harrowing a journey that will be for her. I don’t know how to be warm and loving. How will I dig deep and become the daughter I need to be?

CT Scan

So mom got a CAT scan done last week, and the scan def showed differences compared with the scan she had done about 18 months ago. The physician says one area looks like a possible contusion (bruise/injury) and the other area seems like grayish matter. Not exactly sure what the term was since I’m relying what he explained to my father. My father tends to get into all kinds of details, but I’m not the greatest listener, esp when I’m sick. The bottom line is, she’s scheduled now for an MRI and they’re hoping the higher resolution imagery coupled with contrast dyes to see brain circulation will give us more information.

I’m feeling pretty frustrated and vulnerable these days. I know how important it is to maintain a positive attitude… I mean, after all those damn courses I’ve taken, I of anyone, know how critical mental toughness is. And yet, I’m just not there today.

For one thing, I’m still fighting this cold. Our friend A during our trip to Pasadena spoke about constitutions– how some people are just more prone to sickness than others no matter how well they take care of themselves. Ugh. And I’m not exactly the greatest to my body and my health.

Yesterday, our neighbors had us over for dinner. It was really sweet of them: we hadn’t seen them since the day before we said goodbye to Marty. I was annoyed that they hadn’t said anything to me after knowing that we had put him down (in fact, when they were over visiting him one last time, the mom kept offering to care for him the one day she would be home over holiday break… after we had already told her our decision). I dunno. People say we all handle death and grief and loss differently.

I was also super disappointed by people who learned of Martin’s death and said absolutely nothing. Like my former boss from the university. She dropped me an email like “thinking of you and hoping all is good.” I replied within hours that we put Martin down and then no response. I mean, are you emailing me and then not reading the reply? Did you feel bad and want to take more time to craft a sensitive response and then just forgot? Honestly, I am appalled by this kind of bullshit and yet, it’s not the first time I have encountered this. And that was like weeks ago. Still not a damn word. Whatever. SMH. People really do irk my nerves.

In other news, I put two more trips on the books for 2017. We’re headed to Cabo for John’s bday in early March. Then, we’re meeting my college friend and his gal in Nashville in May. Meanwhile, I am gearing up for N’s 40th bday bash in Big Sky, MT, where I just saw the temps were -10F last week. I know. I am ordering some serious heavy duty thermals. Granted, I have been in colder temps in my life (Harbin, China at -25F or so for the Ice Festival). But again, that was over ten years ago when I was younger and stronger and probably still of weak constitution but at least more resilient than today. 🙁

Anger and Contempt

After returning from the excessive family time over Christmas, I found myself feeling supremely irritable and cranky. John had thanked me for the dumpster day, but I was so frustrated by the mental strain of going through the motions with both families during the holidays. And considering the number of times I’ve gone to Taiwan solo, I didn’t feel acknowledged enough. I mean, every time I go back for the holidays, I come back and get sick. What does that say about the level of stress? Sure, there are things you have to endure. Life isn’t about having things your way all the time. I get that. I suppose, yet again, this will be a scenario where I’m supposed to adjust how I interact and react with the families. That’s the only thing I can control. Annoying, in and of itself.

Second, I’m feeling a little wedged about conflicting demands. While J’s off of work, we want to travel (and of course max out my Companion Pass), but if I really want to get a good start on my real estate job, I need to put in the saddle time. J just signed up for a leather working class that’s all day Tuesdays in SF. It’s an intensive class and I’m thrilled he’s doing it, bc he so rarely pursues his interests in a formal setting involving strangers. But that means we have Wednesday to Mondays for travels. I just found out that I have intensive real estate training starting up in January that’s Wednesday through Fridays. That leaves weekends, which in most industries would be fine, except that weekends are big days for real estate… so I dunno. I’m sure like in any relationship, these are scheduling kinks that you just have to work out… my situation isn’t unique and certainly, we don’t have kids’ schedules to throw into the mix. Still, when I think forward about the growing familial demands as both sides age and become more dependent on us, I really worry about fitting it all in.

And then I feel angry about my brother and how useless he is. I know my parents try not to ask too much of me, but between the dual country living, multiple properties, my mom being so dependent, and my parents being miserable, not physically robust people living far away from me, attending to their needs is kind of intense. If I think on it for too long, I fall into that horrible blaming mode. Like why do they continue to parent like tards and bc of that, Johnny is a mess. And bc of this and that, things are so much more complicated than they need to be. It gets me so pissed!

I mean, for people who are traditional planners, there’s just a little too much procrastination and inaction due to over-optimization. For example, this last trip with my parents… dad is wondering again about where he and mom are going to live after selling the family home. The original plan was Taiwan full time, but the recent political instability is possibly changing that. J and I have mentioned to them a few times that California makes a lot of sense: it’s closer to us, the weather is more moderate, there’s a vibrant Chinese community, and Taiwan is a direct flight. But my dad, always trying to over optimize his finances, doesn’t like:

  • the high costs of living (including real estate),
  • the liberal politics = inefficient/wasteful social programs that result in high taxes, and
  • the earthquake risk paired with expensive housing that’s really old construction.

At the end of the day, these are not factors he cannot afford to address, you know? Like he could live in new earthquake-friendly construction. He can afford the high taxes and cost of living, so ultimately, what he’s chosen is a path to optimize his finances to the detriment of his own preferences and enjoyment. In other words, of course in many cases you need to live within your means and be smart with your money, bc who knows what lies ahead. However, in his case, the choices don’t have to be so dire and irreversible. He has options: maybe not every single piece of property he owns has to be an investment-savvy decision. Sometimes, you pay a premium, bc that’s what it costs to live in a place with good weather, diversity, and big city access. Anyway, it’s a frustrating thing trying to reason with someone so OCD about his way of doing things. Several times on this trip, I commented to him that I don’t understand why he insists on being so rigid and inflexible. He just has to have things his way.

Family Matters

Whenever we’re in Maryland, our families insist that time passes very quickly. Not for me: every trip home seems to drag on forever. This past week has felt like an eternity. I’m glad to be going home tomorrow.

Overall, our annual holiday visit went ok. For me, the most important point was zero heated arguments or outbursts between me and my parents. On the advice of several friends, I decided to just take a break from Operation Downsize. For the last few months, I’d already been feeling like my parents were losing steam about the Taiwan Relocation anyway (plus Trump’s recent call to Taiwan pushed Taiwan/China tensions to the forefront), so why bother putting in effort when they’re just not ready.

The day after our outing to Great Falls and the National Harbor, we stayed in. I guess everyone, including myself, was drained from all the energy and effort it took to brave the cold and to battle the traffic. On Christmas Day, I drove my family to John’s eldest sister’s house. E is always so gracious, volunteering to cook and host like 25 people at her home. And she is the best cook I know– even fancier than my Bubbey. She is super serious about ingredients and recipes and such. To be honest, I think she should be a professional chef. Either way, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to cook for her and her family…

My parents were pretty good sports about showing up for E’s Christmas dinner this year. They’d turned E down the last few years, and finally, her persistence and their propensity for politeness won over. I appreciate that they made the effort: since they retired many years ago, they’ve become increasingly anti-social, so it takes a lot of effort, esp for them to socialize with non-Chinese people. But I dunno, their attendance always stresses me out a bit. I mean, the big family gatherings have always been very awkward and foreign for me (esp the gift giving part and just having SO many people hanging out for SO many hours), so to have my quiet, mild-mannered parents just compounds the awkwardness. I never have to baby them and I just let them fend for themselves, but I do have some anxiety about my mother and her conversational abilities, particularly with her suspected ADHD/dementia issues. The whole thing is just weird. Having my parents at a big holiday gathering is like having monks or Jehovah Witnesses at your celebration, you know? Like my parents just are not CHILL people: they are very strict with their diet and drinking and dessert and whatever… They’ll partake in it all, bc they don’t want to be rude, but their participation is still clearly awkward. Who knows. I’m probably just OCD hypersensitive about it. Maybe no one else noticed… Needless to say, by the time we headed home, my parents were super tired and totally conked out in the car.

This morning, I made plans to meet over breakfast with my BFF’s mom, who decided to drive up last minute to visit her friends in Frederick. Mrs. R and I go way back… her daughter N and I became friends in the 7th grade, so they’re practically the only people in the world who really know my entire history of family dysfunction. Yup, that family drama bullshit runs way back and way deep. SMH.

It was really good to see Mrs. R: I often see a lot of parallels with her style/role with her husband (now deceased) and N and my role with Bubbey and my parents and N. In so many ways, I feel like Mrs. R and I are worriers who sometimes feel overwhelmed being caretakers for people who are continually struggling with depression and health issues. I can see the frustration and exasperation on her face. We feel and think very similarly, and we are always trying to research ways to “fix things” for people we love. In the end though, more than anything, we seem to become helpless partners walking a fine line of trying to be patient and supportive even as the weight of waiting for change/action slowly crushes us.

But her strength always amazes me. At 72, she has suffered so many trials and yet, she continues to find joy through her friendships and through new travels and adventures. She was telling me how she spends a lot of time thinking about how to repair her relationship with her daughter. In the process, she had a recent epiphany where she sees so many mistakes she made as a mother. And she’s owning up to them now– quite a dramatic feat for someone who used to be so full of confidence and conviction with her words and actions (sound familiar?). I saw a noticeable difference in her today: she displayed newfound self-awareness and renewed determination to continue working on her relationships, no matter how dysfunctional or broken.

Anyway, seeing Mrs. R today just made me realize that maybe I should go back to therapy about my family. I feel like I spend so much time trying to “fix” that relationship; In the end, I never feel satisfied with our visits. I keep tweaking things here and there, but maybe I just need to stop overthinking, step back, and get the advice of an expert. Honestly, I feel like I have spent an entire lifetime trying to get this shit right.

And this trip, even though we avoided confrontations, I was def ready to throw in the towel two or three times in the last week. For example, after the casino day trip, I called J and said this is the last year I’m coming home for Christmas. J and I always end up splitting up, each staying with our respective families, so then I’m holed up with my parents most of the trip, and I mean, they aren’t celebratory! There’s really no reason for me to come home during the holidays. I can just see his family other times during the year when traffic/travel/holiday stress don’t culminate into this Perfect Storm. Like I used to explain to my hardcore hiking/backpacking friends, the holidays are just “not how my family recreates.”

It’s a hard scenario to describe, but in the end, I feel like the holidays worsen my parents’ usual funk. Like all the pressures of having to fake joy and festive moods… it’s too much. Already, my parents are kind of boring and wallowing in their misery. I think either having them come out to CA or me visiting when the temps are warmer will just work out better for everyone.

I know, I’m sure some of you are thinking I’m guilty of the same exact things that I accuse my parents of. You’re not wrong. J says that every time we visit with my parents, he really sees how I’m a milder version of all their extremes (No, I don’t take that as a compliment). What exactly is their crime? They can’t seem to relax and have fun. They can’t find joy in anything. And they always obsess over what’s wrong rather than what’s right in their lives. Add to that, the perpetual over-optimization of finances and the paralysis and hermetic lifestyle to avoid dangers of the world, and it’s just really difficult finding areas where we can connect! Seriously, why can’t they just be normal???

Maybe my commentary only highlights my own issues of self-acceptance. After all, I often ask myself, why can’t I just be normal? I dunno. The struggle is real. Thankfully though, my family is my biggest gripe. Otherwise, the other spheres of my life are consistently more good than bad. 🙂

What else. This afternoon, about seven of us went over to my in-laws’ house for another dumpster purge. It was pretty intense: about 5-6 hours wading through a house packed with 50 years of accumulated shit. As I filled bag after bag with dirty, dusty, dingy clothes/artificial flowers/bedding/blankets, I started feeling super stressed by the sheer volume of the job. Meanwhile, the whole time, J and his three other siblings continued to display patience and compassion as their mother insisted on giving her stamp of approval for each clothing item or pair of shoes…

For sure, I would NOT have asked my mother: instead, I would have trashed everything like a goddamn dictator. And if my mother were to get upset, I would only respond with anger and contempt. See? I’m a horrible daughter. It’s shameful that unlike every other person today, I am unable to treat my parents with more respect and kindness. Sigh. I really don’t know what I’m going to do when the rubber hits the road and my parents truly have to clear out their massive house.

Meanwhile, the job at my in-laws’ house is not even near done. We filled a second monster dumpster (the first one was last Christmas), and we made significant progress. But there is still A LOT of stuff left. We are all resting up before considering the next steps.

I’m just glad to be going home tomorrow. So pooped.

Traffic and Travels

In terms of getting along with my family, things are going ok so far. But the trip is still early. No explosions as of yet. Yesterday, I took my parents out of the house: we hit up Great Falls, MD (a national park where dad was pleased to get in free with his senior parks pass that we got years ago) then I drove through DC into Alexandria then to the National Harbor, some new area by the water where there’s a huge Gaylord Resort and brand-spanking new MGM Casino. My parents tried to be good sports about the park visit, but it was in the 50s and windy that day. Btw, my father totally babies my mom. She underdressed and then he gave her his vest and his gloves and he was freezing. Dunno why they don’t just keep a shit ton of freebie fleece blankets in the trunk. The good news is they had never been to any of the places, and I think in spring, they can revisit the places with friends or out-of-town visitors.

One thing though: the traffic in this area bites. Holy fuck. It was already super bad (always a crawl) when I lived here but shit… we must have been in the car yesterday for five hours. That shit is no joke. Not sure the juice is worth the squeeze.

When we got to the National Harbor, stuff was all decorated for Christmas. It was pretty but I mean, my parents aren’t into ANYthing, so we went through that in about ten minutes. I suggested sitting at the bar and getting drinks to soak up the view along the Potomac River, but my parents don’t know how to have fun and don’t know how to enjoy anything so they didn’t want to do that. We got back in the car and drove across the street to the casino. Walked around there for a bit. Sat around in the lobby while I charged my phone. The casino had just opened on December 8, so I think they were still working out some kinks: every single restaurant was booked and not taking walk-ins ,so we ate at the food court. Then, we went home. Of course, the whole time I’m driving us around using Waze, and dad is like trying to ask me what my route is or where are we now or what county is Alexandria in, or if Arlington is better than Alexandria… dude, I haven’t lived in the Mid-Atlantic since 2003. I don’t know. I’m just trying to follow the Waze directions: I dunno where it’s taking me, I just know it’ll route me to the destination. Then he’s like doing the backseat driver thing (and yes, both of them are sitting in the backseat… that’s how Chinese parents roll) that mom did in Taiwan but he’s not as bad. But I still had to keep explaining that I’m sure his way works but Waze factors in the TRAFFIC.

By the end of the day, I am wiped and I mean, like I’ve said before: my parents aren’t impressed by anything. So my conclusion is pretty much: we should have just stayed home. My mom tried to give me some crap like they are just home bodies; it’s not that they are NOT fun people. Um, ok. But you aren’t fun even when you are at home. Homebody and not fun are two different descriptors. In your case, they BOTH apply.

So today, I made plans to have lunch with my college bud M. Thankfully, he offered to drive down from Rockville to Frederick. It was good seeing him but I dunno: people with kids are just totally different. He’s pretty high up in IBM but I think he’s the sole provider and his wife is from Tokyo, so pretty much all their vacation is spent on going back every year to Japan. And their disposable income goes towards school, piano lessons, dance lessons, etc. He says they have had bad luck with baby sitters so they don’t go out much. He doesn’t do any of his hobbies from before… Meanwhile, John and I were both not working for a bit; we traveled like 15 times in the last year… I’m not saying one way is right or wrong: I’m saying, I didn’t really share things in common regarding interests, lifestyle, and priorities. I dunno. Some days I kind of struggle with how divergent our lives are bc of the kid factor. I’m sure the same could be argued (maybe) for my friends who are single… but sheesh, at least they still seem to do stuff.

I mean, is he just sparing me the details of their “stuff” bc it’s all kid-related and I can’t relate? Or I dunno: I feel like I’m being judged as more selfish or self indulgent bc I’m not doing the responsible thing of raising a family? I dunno. Maybe I’m just sensitive bc that’s how my family views me. I’m just out there doing everything from the “me, me, me” perspective. Which is actually not even an accurate impression… Whatever, why should I give a fuck what other people think anyway.

Yesterday at the casino, I saw someone walking a beautiful young black lab. He was so shiny and sprightly– he reminded me of Marty in his younger years. And I felt so sad and empty. I mean, Marty was certainly no Lassie: he never really comforted me when I was upset or crying. But his presence in and of itself offered me comfort when I was sad or upset or disappointed with people. He always accepted and appreciated me for who I was. Even when I would get into a zone and forget to feed him dinner, he never got upset. He just came over and tried to signal to me that he needed something. Oh Marty. such a sweet and patient and forgiving dog. I miss him still.

Sometimes I think all the family holiday crap is a good distraction. But goddamn, I really would just prefer to be home doing some work and planning ahead for 2017 in the peace and quiet of the Houseboat.

Scratchy Sheets

I swear, every time I go home to Maryland, I feel like a goddamn diva. I arrive at my parents’ house and I mean, it’s the usual, so I don’t know why I even bother writing about it. All the lights in the house are on timers. I know they travel back and forth multiple times a year, but Jesus Christ, if you’re going to be home for longer than a month, can you at least turn the switch on the timer to “live outlet”?? Without fail, evening approaches and the room gets dark as fuck, I go to turn on the lamp and no response. It’s not a HUGE deal to take that extra step of feeling around in the dark for the timer on the floor, but still. Kinda annoying.

Then, I sleep in the first floor suite bc it’s warmer, but for that part of the house (Don’t worry, we’re not in some kind of Aaron Spelling mansion), dad shuts off the water heater. So, rather than turning that shit on like the day I’m coming home, he just says, use the bathroom upstairs for hot water. Lovely. I suppose the ice cold water is good for washing my face, considering my face is still inflammed. Perpetually swollen bc 1) I have RBF (resting bitch face) 2) I’m still crying every day about Marty. And whatever, I can use the bathroom upstairs but the fucking drain has some kind of clog and by the time I’m done with my five-minute shower, I am standing in like 2 inches of dirty water! Argh!!!

The final straw regarding home accommodations is the sheets. You have now idea: my parents have a humongous hall closet upstairs stuffed to the brim with linens. I get to the bedroom where I have stayed the last several years and there’s a cheap polyester quilt on top of the mattress. They didn’t even bother to put fucking fitted sheets on the mattress. For reals. Am I being a big-time diva, or is it fair to expect them to put legit sheets on the bed when their progeny flies across the country to visit. WTF. Then, the comforter is another 100% polyester POS that they don’t even stuff into a duvet cover. Instead, they just put the duvet cover and the comforter on top. Thankfully, the cover is cotton (the only thing that is), so I have that against my skin. Here’s the deal. I have super sensitive skin: I mean, I might as well have a legit medical skin condition bc I get itchy really easily and am susceptible to rashes, hives, minor bug bites (that invariably turn into welts), shingles, acne, what have you…

So this cheap polyester shit makes me itch. And, I forgot to mention that I am still recovering from flea bites all over my ankles… I suppose some kind of parting gift from Marty. You see, the whole week before his passing, I was itching like hell and we had fleas once before, so I was telling John that I suspected fleas and he just kept dismissing it all as my usual skin sensitivities. Mind you, home boy NEVER gets bitten by bugs. Until one day, he spots a black speck on his foot: oh ok, high alert: we have fleas. Yeah asshole, that’s what I have been saying… whatevs. Same shit happened when I got the shingles years ago. I kept telling him the blisters around my trunk were super itchy and painful. Oh just go take a shower. Put on some lotion. Change into new PJs. Fuck you. I went to the doctor and had to get put on super serious prescription meds. And if you read up on shingles, that shit is no games: like neurological issues. Anyway… so I ask my mom where the good sheets are, like COTTON sheets. She comes back with another polyester blend comforter. WTF??? I went upstairs to the linen closet and it’s all towels. Where are the goddamn bedding sets? Forget it. Supremely annoyed, I just sleep on the scratchy shit.

As the night progresses, my skin gets drier (from the heat) and itchier. My bug bites flare up and by 5:30am, I still haven’t slept. I rip off the comforters and take the one cotton duvet cover and essentially put it on the mattress, lie on top and then fold the other half of it over me so I’m in a cotton burrito. The whole time, I am SMH. Why does it have to be like this?

The conclusion on my diva-like behavior? I gotta take things into my own hands. I am purchasing a 100% cotton travel sack from Amazon and this shit is coming with me anytime I visit Maryland again. Fucking A. The odd thing is, for my entire childhood, my grandmother was obsessed with BVD and cotton everything. Have we learned nothing???

 

Playing God

A few days have passed since we said goodbye to Marty. I have periods of functionality, and then suddenly, I’ll be overcome with emotion. I’ve been feeling really tired lately, and my eyes, even though they no longer appear swollen, feel tight and tired, like I can’t open them as widely and as alertly as I used to.

On Saturday, I met up with M and T for lunch. We met first at M’s house. As soon as she opened her front door, I started to cry. It’s weird bc I can be totally fine (although in this particular case, I had already melted down twice in the car on the way there) and then as soon as I share the news or someone acknowledges the news, I break down again. Anyway, we had a good time remembering Marty, talking through things, and such. M showed off her home’s latest additions– voice-activated lighting: that place needs to be featured in a home design magazine for reals! Everything is meticulously selected, arranged, and maintained. Whenever I get home after visiting her house and/or T’s house, I feel like our Houseboat is just kid’s play. Anyway, they both gave me gifts which cheered me up and then we headed off for lunch. After spending two days hidden from the world, it was good to get out and interact with people again.

Of course, as soon as I got home, poor Bubbey was a mess. He had culled every single photo of Marty into a single album. And it took him 90 minutes to go through picture by picture… blurry, shitty pics and all! Seeing Marty as a young pup really made him realize just how much our boy had aged and slowed down.

Tonight, Bubbey was telling me that losing Marty has been a lot harder than with Remy, in part bc the decision with her came so unexpectedly, with the vet advising it on what we thought was just another office visit. Also, she was in so much worse shape. With Marty, he really was looking and moving ok that day. There was almost an arbitrary nature to our decision… and in that sense, we really struggled with this responsibility of playing God. Some days, like when we look at how much he did as a young dog, we feel like we waited too late, that long ago, he had already stopped doing so many things he used to love: chasing critters at the park, running through the fields, sitting adroitly for treats… Other days though, we still hear him struggling to get up from his bed or climbing through the doggie door or rustling around in the yard. We wake up and think we’ll be taking him to the park for a walk that morning… J and I aren’t particularly great at creating and maintaining habits, but some of these elements have just become so ingrained after all these years.

Last night I was up late fidgeting around with photos. I wanted to print small square prints to include them in my thank you notes to people who contributed to the donation drive. Yesterday, J and I dropped off an entire trunk full of gifted items: food, towels, blankets, treats, collars, leashes, and coats… I was happy to gather a sizeable amount of stuff, but it was challenging pulling into the parking lot, where I came last year to pick up Marty after he’d gone to the elementary school.

I dunno: I guess I’m just rambling now. The bottom line is, the empty nest feels very quiet. With Remy’s passing, we still had to continue about our lives with Marty. Now, it’s just the two of us. Every day continues to be a struggle. I miss him so much, and it’s really hard to feel festive without our little buddy.

My thoughtful cousin AH, who visited two years ago right after Remy passed away, called me yesterday via FB Messenger.

A photo posted by Vicky Gou (@vickygou) on

Turns out, he’d been following my Instagram feed closely, bc he knew Marty was so fragile. And with every post, he was copying and pasting my English caption into Google translate to see in Chinese what I was saying. I was so touched to learn that he was keeping tabs on Marty. He said he was thinking about coming back to visit just to see Marty one last time.

After our call, I was curious about the translation, so I popped it in and listened to the Chinese audio over and over. The translation was surprisingly accurate. Google Translate, man. So freaking sophisticated.

Two Decades Later

An interesting thing happened the other day: after my neighbors L and S had us over for their small gathering, I was on the neighborhood social media site searching for the hosts’ email address. Have you been on NextDoor before? It’s kind of like FB but for your ‘hood. Anyway, I went to the Neighbors tab, where all the people who joined NextDoor in my area are listed alphabetically. I came across a name from my childhood: AB. Huh? I actually had a crush on this guy in middle school. His dad was my pediatrician. I thought, hmmm, could it be the same dude? I did a quick search on LinkedIn, and sure enough, this is the guy! Isn’t that crazy? From the same home town, same class even, to all the way across the country, two streets down. Pretty fricking coincidental.

So wth, I emailed him via NextDoor. The next day, he replied and we’re going to meet up in the new year after J and I get back from Frederick. Then I was telling my dad, bc he knows AB’s dad. And I mean, I suppose it’s not THAT surprising that the Bay Area attracts people from all over: dad has two friends whose daughters are also out here– one in SF and one in San Mateo. Anyway, it was kind of a cool thing. I’m trying to be confident and adult about it too, you know? Like the last time I saw AB, we were 18, just graduated from high school and ready for college. And as I’ve mentioned before, I wasn’t exactly the coolest. It’s one of those things, similar to like visiting my parents… I feel like I have to make a conscious effort not to fall into that box of who I used to be. I know, already I’m overthinking it. Welcome to my life.

In other news, my mother pissed me the fuck off yesterday. She made some comment about how Hillary’s behind the whole assertion that the Russians rigged the elections. That she’s being a sore loser. And OMFG, it became clear to me that she supported Trump. I corrected her, saying that there were multiple federal agencies that made the claim… and Jesus Christ, are you seriously ragging on Hillary when the person you support is a clear racist (and you are an immigrant!), misogynist, totally SKETCHY conman with minimal integrity? Puhleeze. Why must she always instigate me in this way? J even thinks my dad voted for Trump bc of the damn taxes. And then I totally lost it. I got off the phone and was FUMING. Seriously, this Trump dude could be your daughter’s boss, harassing her at work, and you’re going to vote for him bc of fucking taxes? I will concede that mom likely voted for Trump bc she’s a woman hater… one of those backstabbing, catty women. My dad? I am not sure but fuck, I hope to God his decisions are NOT solely about money. Ugh. Then J gets on my case, like why are you trying to control other people’s decisions? They are free to choose. Yes, they are but not with this. They supported Bush and Reagan and Bush again. I got over that. But Trump? It is unacceptable. But J just keeps saying it wouldn’t have made a difference and again, I need to work on how I react to shit. Why is it that among all the people I know, I am the ONLY one who is constantly having to control the way I respond to other people. Why aren’t other people controlling their dumbassery so as to not provoke me? Yeah, so clearly my “positive thinking” vow lasted all of like 24 hours.

Meanwhile, every day I am struggling more and more with the Martin decision. Do we leave him in this weakened state where he will possibly lose all mobility under the care of a stranger? Do we euthanize him before he gets to full paralysis. I just don’t know, and I’m so torn about it. He doesn’t seem to be in pain but he’s a dog. Dogs like to walk and smell new scents. Is he still having good quality of life? Would leaving him in the care of another be more for us than for him? I just can’t decide. I feel like he enjoys the company of all people… he has no fears with strangers. But the sitter works full time… argh. His eating and kidneys are stable again but those legs… J did his own WebMD research and thinks Martin has DM, some degenerative spinal condition that has no treatment. Just this morning, we made it to the park but he wasn’t strong enough to wander around like he used to. We just got there and came back. On the way back, a bicyclist slowed down and said, “He sure walks slow for a dog.” Yeah, he’s almost 17, I replied. “Oh, he looks really good for 17.”

Emotionally, I am also trying to control my feelings of anger and resentment. Like I know my parents are going to piss me off and the trip is going to frustrate me to no end. Honestly, I don’t even want to go. And if something happens to Martin while I am gone, there is the potential for some major rage and blame issues. I am trying to be adult about it all, but I’m just saying: my family really does bring out the worst in me and if my mental state is compromised and then I have to deal with bad news about Marty, things could get very ugly. Today I’m feeling again like I’m just not made for this world. Sigh. Where is that positive thinking I was just talking about?