I’m taking a note from my shrink… It sounds nice when I address you that way, doesn’t it?

It’s feels good when someone asks how you’re doing… I wouldn’t know. The only people I’ve spoken to lately have asked me the same questions: How’s your mom doing? Not that I’m not glad that they’re asking, mind you. I’m a little irked that a lot of these people, my so called “friends”, haven’t bothered with me at all until she had her surgery before texting me to ask how she was doing. Most of them I just gave technical answers to and left it at that.

The only person who was different was my “friend’s” mom, the one I kind of adopted back in high school. She’s such a sweet woman… She asked how my mom was doing then asked how I was doing, was I feeling better, holding it together better. That’s the thing. Everyone wants to know how my mom is, but no one asks, “Hey Jackie, how are you feeling? I know this has been really stressful on you and you’ve been anxious. Are you alright? Do you need to talk it out? Want to go out for coffee or lunch?” Nope… I’ve literally been fucking deserted by everyone. But it’s okay. I’m used to being on my own with whatever crisis I happen to be facing.

So, for any of you wondering… my mother’s surgery went well. They managed to do a triple bypass and the other vessel that’s blocked was too small to repair and they couldn’t bypass the blood flow, so they’ll manage that with medicine. She looks good, just tired and weak and a bit cranky.

I almost didn’t get to see her. Just as I had left and was barely down the street, I got a text asking where I was, they were taking her early. It was a crazy drive to get there in time and I had just missed her. The nice nurse on her floor (who tired to stall them) took me down to the surgical floor and I asked if I could see her, explaining why. Luckily I did get to spend time with hr before they took her back. I made some jokes so she’d know I was okay. Hey, if I didn’t fuck with her, she’d know I was all anxious and upset and that would do her no good… I was holding up good, even after they took her back for the surgery, but on the inside, I was like this picture, here. I went to get coffee (because I had a raging tension headache and needed coffee) and went out to the car for a smoke and texted my sister. She suggested I come spend the afternoon with her. She lives only 10 minutes from the hospital and she was getting text message updates from them during surgery. This is new… I didn’t know they did that. So I grabbed something to eat, more coffee and went over. It was nice for both of us. She was home alone and I think she was a bit anxious herself. Plus the constant updates, no matter how small (procedure continuing, patient doing well) were definitely something I needed to hear.

The OR nurse called about 2:30 to say she was fine, the surgeon was stitching her up and it would be another hour. I was standing next to my sister, anxiously awaiting the news… I’ll never forget the look on her face when she turned to me and smiled and gave me the thumbs up. I could breathe again! The surgeon called about an hour later and told us we could see her maybe around 4 o’clock. Well… until they got her settled, it was more like after 4:30… Seeing her in the ICU was hard and I know my sister thought maybe I shouldn’t, but my anxiety was still making my stomach churn. I had to see with my own eyes that she was fine. Time to suck it the fuck up, buttercup… It’s funny… My mother was really worried about how I was, my sister was worried about how I would be seeing her in the ICU and I was fine. When it came down to it, my brain just said, “fucking deal with it, you have to” and it did.

Maybe I’m a lot stronger than I look and feel…

Her asshole boyfriend didn’t come see her at all that day, not even before they took her in for surgery when she was still in her room. He doesn’t like hospitals and blames it on Vietnam (of which I heard he wasn’t actually there). Still, if you really love her, you fucking sponge, you suck it the fuck up and you deal with it. I spent a week and a half feeling like I was going to puke from anxiety, dealing with family drama shit and generally losing my shit every moment of every day. But guess what… I promised I would see her before she went in and would be there when she woke up and I was… Even my sister didn’t see her until afterwards. But I was there for her, even planning on camping out in the hospital the whole day. You know what the sponge did? He said he was going to go work out at the gym and then mow grass… Seriously?!? You’re supposed to love her and your fucking pussy ass goes to the gym and mows grass instead of at least going to see her before they took her down to the operating holding room?! What the actual fuck?!

So I went for a short visit yesterday (she’s still very tired) and sponge was there… He gave me this look that was pure attitude as soon as I walked in and several times had gotten snippy when he spoke to me. It was really irking my nerves… but I couldn’t say anything. I don’t know what the fuck he’s had against me since I was 12, but I’m not dealing with this mental, verbal and emotional abuse anymore. My mother told me yesterday she may be going home Monday… Aside from the fact that I think it’s too soon, sponge didn’t like when I was taking about getting printouts from the PT so I know what exercises she should do at what weeks in recovery and we’d do them together. He got really pissy with me. Um… excuse me, but I still have that text from my mother (I took a screenshot) that says you have no rights and you know it. She’s my mother and I’ll take care of her as I see fit. I was a nurse’s aid for years. I know what I’m doing. You’re a fucking useless piece of shit. I’ve been the one responsible for her even when I was too young to have to be responsible for taking care of her, getting her out of trouble he didn’t even know about. He steps on my toes and he and I are going to go rounds…

I’ve just had enough… His reign of tyranny has to end and it’s going to end right fucking now. I’m one of her daughters. It’s me and my sister who call the shots. He has nothing to say and I’m not going to let him bully me into shit…

And so I’m back to the anxious “I feel like I’m going to puke every second of every day” shit again. Thanks, sponge…

Did you ever feel like you just want to completely lose you fucking shit and orchestrate some mass destruction…? Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel right now… The destruction, of course, is going to be the sponge and the nice cushy lifestyle he’s been having all these 30+ years.

Dear readers, you may want to seriously start a Go Fund Me for my bail because I’m going to punch him in the fucking throat if he pisses me off…

Christ, all I want to do is what I’m supposed to do… Even after all the shit she’s put me through over the years, she’s still my mother. She needs me… I want to do the right thing; I want to help her recover and be like she was before (or close enough to it). But I can’t do that if people don’t let me do what I need to do! And, in a way, I feel sorry for her. I’ve always known he didn’t really love her, not like he should if at all. And if she doesn’t get better, he’s going to be to blame for it all. God help him if something bad happens to her because he wouldn’t let me take care of her and he didn’t do it because no one else will…

I know I certainly won’t… And he has no one else left that will either…