I'm back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi guys,

Forgive me if I repeat anything I am just not myself lately. Forgive me also for the length.

I am sorry to have not been around lately other than to give a woohoo or great going.

I am still functioning most of the time on autopilot when it comes to my dads passing.
We clashed so much when he was alive but in the last year of his life we did get along and had fun.

I seem to do okay and then something will happen, like when my mom and I went shopping and I realized we no longer needed to buy Cashew nuts because my dad loved a handful of them as a snack. That hurt.

I really do miss the guy.

It is just too darn quiet now. No matter how sick he was, save for the times the medications he got made him really out of it, he made a joke, or just made noise. Living right now with my mom is very, very quiet. I use to like quiet but not like this quiet. Besides, I cannot go into my dad’s room (he had to be in a hospital bed towards the end). All I feel is him and all I see is him lying on the floor knowing his spirit was trying to leave his failing body.

I can’t wait until we move on December 1st. A new place without pain memories. I have cleared out all his clothes and the crap he kept since he was born or at least that is what it felt like, and it is now a whole lot of empty.
****
I did discover some wonderful pictures from when he was a child and teenager. I have them packed away carefully and will concentrate on them after we move.

I also found photos of my mom’s father who passed away back in 1947. It is neat to see this man who may have been all of 45 at the time. He looked so alive.
*****
The funeral for my Dad was okay. I wrote my Eulogy, and reproduced my brother Al’s on my blog. Al and I got the chance to see my dad before the ceremony. Someone had to attest to the fact that we were burying the right body. Considering the last visual of my dad was him hooked up to the ventilator, which was horrible, I was so exceptionally comforted and happy in my heart to see that the men who readied him for his burial made him look calm and asleep. Al and I had written notes to my dad that we read to him before anyone was in the room with us. The funeral director let us put the notes next to his heart and let us kiss him good-bye. That was hard to do.

The funeral was your standard Jewish ceremony, with my brothers and I talking about him to those who were at the chapel. The rabbi had visited us the night before and he made what he said about my dad seem like he had known the man forever. He kind of did know my dad, or rather my dad made sure he knew him. A friend had taken him this particular temple about 12 years ago and my father went up to this Rabbi after the services on Saturday. My dad told this man, “You don’t know me right now, but I want to get to know you since you will one day officiate at my funeral.” The Rabbi, after seeing a photo of my dad that Sunday night, remembered those words.

The only really hard thing about the funeral was when we were at the cemetery and the grave workers physically lowered the coffin into the grave. I did not want to leave my dad in that cold dark place. I forgot for a moment that he was not there, that he was now part of the cosmic world.

There were about 40 or so of his friends and relatives at the cemetery and each and everyone one of us, as is Jewish tradition, took shovels full of dirt to cover the coffin.
I was so proud of them all. No one wanted just one shovel full, some did 3; some did 5 or 6. The backhoe did not have to do much at all. I have never seen so many people work so much together to say goodbye to someone.

Now, for a fun tale, I am standing there, at the cemetery, with my brothers on either side of my Mom and I have her back. I feel someone put their arm around my waist and I am thinking it is one of my cousins. I turn and there is Mr. Silent. Mitchell himself. He did not let me go through the whole thing until I put in my shovels full of dirt, then when I came back he held me again. What a wonderful surprise. I expected him to come to the ceremony but not to come to the cemetery. Then he showed up later that night for the first night of Shiva.
Yes there are wonderful things in this world.

It was a really long week. Lots of food, (I am now trying to rid myself of a sugar high and 9 pounds of crap food) lots of stories, lots of trying to be pleasant when all I really wanted to do was crawl into a ball and cry.

I am so glad for my youngest niece. Bless her three-month-old soul. She just folded herself into her Aunt Sandgee’s shoulder and let me lose myself in her.
Things quieted down by Thursday and I will admit I was exhausted.

Lets see, besides being on autopilot since Oct 13th and handling all the logistics (John took care of his wife and my nieces, and Alan was in charge of taking care of my mom) I also finally finished up my neurological testing. Now, I wish I could say I know what the hell the Neurologist was talking about when I saw him this past Friday, but all I can remember is “Brain Stem Injury” and “I will be doing anything I can to make your life more comfortable.”

I feel like he gave me a diagnosis, but I am so darn fuzzy with all the medications I have to take I can’t for the life of me remember what it is called. I do know that part of the damage was done from my bout in 1997 with Pseudo Tumor Cerebri, and all the other shit happening physically to me since then. Perhaps the best thing that did happen was me getting the Gastric band and losing 64 pounds so far. Another 60 will help but won’t cure me.

So, I am now not allowed to drive anywhere. I have to use a cane to stabilized myself and preferably walk with someone when I walk my dog. I have to take Valium, Furocet, Diamox, and one major ass drug called Lyrica. Let us just say that I have had to spend 3 weeks building up to the dosage the Neurologist wants me taking. They help me with pain, and ladies and gentlemen, you could throw a bowie knife through my body and I would not feel it at all. Yippee for Narcotics. Can’t beat a legal junkie.



Now, I give you THE FINALE:

During Shiva you really don’t use modern equipment and I tried to stay off the computer and web as much as I could. I did not get to look at my bank balance (of which I am completely, excuse the term, anal about). I go online on Sunday October 22nd and what do I see? Someone had taken my ATM card and cleaned out my checking account. I made a complaint Monday morning October 23rd. I got a call on the 26th to come to the main bank branch to see the picture captured at the ATM. I wanted to see what piece of shit did this. Now mind you I could not imagine losing the card which was soldered into my wallet along with, and I am a schmuck, say it out loud please, my pin # in the wallet in a different place.
The piece of shit turned out to be the nighttime aide we had for my father. SHE DID THIS DURING THE SHIVA PERIOD. I wanted that photo to be anyone else. I had thought she was a good person. She got over 1200$ out of my account. I need to fill out a police report but at first I was not sure. I mean I was 99.5% sure it was she. But, then I began thinking back to when my mom kept complaining that she couldn’t find money or after I had taken cash out for the day and night aides salary I could not locate the amount the next day, or money was taken out of the envelopes I left for their salaries. Then the topper was that my mom was looking for a ring that was my dads and it was in the same box as one of her rings. Guess what, no rings.
So, fuck her, tomorrow is a police report. I will get the money back from the bank, but I will probably be out the amounts of cash she stole from us in the house because there is no visual record. I am sure my dads ring was hocked for money.

The moral of this story? Some people are Nasty rotten immoral people.
Some people are caring wonderful loving people.
And I never give up.

Thanks for listening.

Opinions are as numerous as Assholes...

I say with a very deep sadness because I am not a mean person at all but some people who know shit about WLS need to keep their mouths shut.

WLS is a tool to get you to your goal. It is not the cure. You still need to eat a healthy way, exercise and be vigilent.
Researchers are beginning to determine that some people have an issue, metabolic, immune, whatever, that makes them hungry 24/7.
For some reason the Vagas Nerve in the stomach does not work.
Perhaps in time no one will need WLS because the researchers will come up with an enzyme or pill or shot, whatever, that will make that nerve function properly.
Right now though, WLS can be the tool to save someones life.
I am now going back to lurking on CK and staying away from uninformed opinions.
My blog, my opinion, so bite me....

I really really miss my dad today.

It gets way too quiet in their apt.
I moved in to be with my mom until we move to Long Beach.

It just isn't the same.. :(

A Eulogy for my Father

This was the Eulogy I gave for my father at his funeral.
I wrote it in 5 minutes and it was sparked by a phrase my brother Al used "The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it."
You can read his Eulogy after this one.

I want to talk about humor and my fathers sense of it. My brothers spoke of his sense of right and wrong. His ability to tell a story. But my dad was also a humorist.

Our relationship was one of an adored little girl and a cuddly bear of a father.

As an infant and youngster he sang me silly yiddish songs as I lay on his shoulder. They were silly songs that he sang to us all, every niece and nephew, grand and great grand. I would fall asleep on that huge shoulder without a care in the world.

As a child he told me stories about his parents and "Uncle" who was my Bubbys(grandmother) half brother who was an inventor. Trouble was, as my father would say, nothing he invented ever worked but they sure looked wonderful. After one night of all the relatives from the old country laughing at him he threatened to jump out of the window, they'd be sorry.
Now I know, to my dad, as a small tyke, this must have been scarey, but to my dad the story teller it became the punchline in a vaudvillian act.
"So, my Mother said to him, 'Jump', we live on the first floor..." My dad needed the rimshot of a drum set for his stories.

One story he told over and over again, Oh, maybe I was 4 years old, much to my chagrin was about one Thanksgiving we spent in NJ at my cousin Jack and Elys house with their kids. My dads oldest sister (20 years older) was there also. Someone, probably my cousin Jack liked to hear me sing and taught me the tune "I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee" well I couldn't say Alabama and sang Alabamala" So I heard the story over and over and over again. It drove me nuts.

In teenage years our relationship was rocky because I wanted independence but he wanted to keep his little girl safe. I couldn't understand it until I was a lot older.

When I grew up and discovered that ocassionally dad was right, we formed a bond that came in laughter and jokes.

He'd sing, I'd groan.
I would tell a joke, he'd laugh.
He would tell me a story about his live and I sat with rapt attention to his foibles as he grew up with his "gang" of Brooklyn friends.
There is a story about Haskell the Barber and firecrackers but that is for another time and place to tell it.
He told me about WWII and his time in India as an air traffic controller.

I still am not sure how we won the war considering the funny tales he told about his life in the Army Air core. He started though as a private and ended up as a seargent.

He told stories of how he me Mom, and woo'd her, with love and laughter.

He loved my mom from the first and he had great funny stories of the trips they went on over the years.

She was the love of his lofe. He always told me he never wanted any woman but her. EVER. You don't see that too much anymore. My brother John and Ann come close to this.

His love was true, for his wife, his children, grandchildren and the NUMEROUS nieces and nephews, grand and great grand. And he shared his gift of humor and story telling with us all.

My brother Al said "The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it."
To me the world has a little less laughter in it.
But, where he is now, free from this earth and his pains, he is telling his stories and his jokes to another set of friends.

The heavens are laughing today.

From My Brother AL

Picture a little boy running halfway around a block to avoid getting on a bus headed for day camp. Why? Because it was only a small van and not a full-sized yellow school bus, of course. Now picture a middle-aged father running after him. Picture this same father filling in as a coach and as an umpire for the young boy’s Little League game. When called out at first base by his father the umpire, this boy gets angry and decides he doesn’t want to play any more and just walks home. Perhaps youthful indiscretion and foolishness? OK, except without him, the team has to forfeit due to lack of a sufficient number of ballplayers. So now the father the coach finds he again has to run after him, and brings him back to the game. This same kid decides he wants to follow his brother climbing a tree. Except he forgets to follow him down and gets stuck and his dad has to talk him down. And finally, for some reason better left not understood, his bigger brother convinces him it is OK to pee in the draw of a desk in their room. This too comes to the father’s attention. Obviously this little bundle of joy was me and that father was my dad. What was my punishment for these youthful indiscretions? As punishment for these youthful indiscretions my father took me to Met games in field level box seats and let me stuff my face with all kinds of stuff from, hot dogs with Gulden’s mustard to ice cream to cracker jacks to Coke’s to pizza which tasted like cardboard for nine innings and sometimes 18 if it was a doubleheader. He took me to the batting cage during the week, came to my little league games, some of my high school games time permitting, a playoff soccer game in college….I think you get the point.

My father was an honorable man and a man of integrity. He tried to teach me personal responsibility. When I was about 10 years old, we were coming home from temple, and he found a parking ticket on his wind shield. As he left the spot, he saw the officer who had issued the ticket. He pulled up to him, and instead of giving him a hard time or attempting to talk him out of the ticket, he said he understood why he got the ticket and that he was in the wrong. In effect, he told me that the man was just doing his job and that he, my Dad, should take responsibility for this deserved ticket. This lesson in personal responsibility still resonates with me to this day.

My father was truly a nice guy who wanted to do right by everybody. A terrific storyteller, he could cheer anybody up and often did so. He was a natural born salesman who made friends easily. In fact, he was elected the president of his international trade association, EASA, in 1985.

It has touched me deeply that the two aides who have worked to help him these past few years have enjoyed working with him and are genuinely saddened by his passing. I suspect this is not always the case with a client. And I would like to thank them Georgina and Maudry for their caring. Along with my mother and my sister, they kept him going on what I believe was borrowed time.

Nobody’s perfect, and there are always things, whether real or imagined, a son can look back on and disagree with in the way his father handled a situation. But there is one thing I know about my dad, he always loved me and he always had my best interests at heart. No matter what I did I always felt secure in that knowledge (he would always love me. )

There are so many things I feel about my father and so many things about him I would like to tell. There just isn’t the time right now.

Towards the end, when he knew death could come at any time, I never saw a trace of self pity. Of course there was some trepidation, and perhaps some anger and frustration at his failing body, but no self pity. He truly loved life, but knew it must end at some point. He was concerned that I and others not feel sad for him. Well, this is one wish of his I cannot comply with. The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it.

My father always ended his conversations by saying “Stay well”, whether at work, on the phone or in person. Towards the end and in failing health, when he would say this to me, I’d say right back, “YOU stay well” and he’d say he would try. Unfortunately last Saturday he could no longer do that (keep that promise). And so I say to my father, I love you, I will miss you, /I’m glad you were my dad, you are not alone, you will always be in my thoughts and with me as long as I live. Dad, stay well. YOU stay well.

Joy

I wish I could convey in words the feeling of Joy I have in my heart this past week.

I know it is a sad time to lose a father.

But I have watched and seen and listened to EVERY person who he touched come and say : Kindness, Honesty, Integrity, Humor, Smiles.
He as a parent was difficult to get along with considering how his children wanted to be independent and he wanted them to be close and safe, but he as a human being, was really really special.

If you have seen the movie "Pay it Forward", my dad was like the child character. His touch touched another and that person passed it along to another.

I figure, He touched a small part of the world...

Like I said, it is a feeling of joy.

automatic pilot

Right now, this week that is what I am on.

Next week I begin to think.

Next week I begin to feel.

Right now, it is not about me at all.

But I know, in my heart, my dad is singing in heaven.

To everyone of you who have sent their well wishes, listen tonight for his songs...

Big hugs and kisses to you all.

Today my father finally was able to soar the heavens

His heart stopped beating around 10am.
He flew away and my heart is lighter now.

He is being buried on Monday in a traditional Jewish ceremony. He will be bathed by orthodox jewish men, wrapped in a shroud then wrapped in a Talis. I found my Zaydees(grandfathers) talis and that is the one that will be used. He will also have an american flag on his coffin because he is a war veteran.

The fun stories have started already. They will go on all week. This "Shiva" period is going to be wonderful. My pop could be a real pain in the butt but he was one of the nicest, kindest, most honest persons I have ever known. I had the great fortune to grow up with his stories. He was a natural born story teller and every story was funny or fun. From his childhood in Williamsburg Brooklyn, to his WWII service in India as an air traffic controller, to his wooing and wedding my mother, to all his relatives (all from the "old country") every one of them are sparks in my head.

There is a jewish psalm or a song of Solomon that talks about the riches of a good name. In my fathers case, he was the richest man in the world. The world remembers him with a smile on their face and a warmth in their heart.

Not a bad way to be.

My father

will have passed away by 2pm today, Saturday, October 14th.

I feel sad.

Goodbye Pop.

It is 1 AM and I just saw a horrible thing

My father laying on the floor unconscious with blood flowing from a cut he got when he fell. My mom had awakened me ( I am staying with them) saying that EMS was coming. I got out of bed and there he was, right inside his bedroom door laying flat on his front. I tried to get a pulse but could not get one. My mom got a very weak one. But he would not wake up.

EMS took him to the hospital 20 minutes ago. My brother is coming out from Brooklyn and we will go to the ER to meet with my mom and the doctors. My other brother happens to be out of town in Tuscon Arizona so we got my SIL. She will call my bro once we know how what dads status is.

THe shit thing is my dad never did a general DNR, just one on file from the last time he was in the hospital. We forgot that one little document when we set up the wills and health care proxys. So, once the medics got the weak pulse they had to do everything to bring him back.

Right at this moment, I have no silver lining to this tale.
I don't want my dad to die, but when he does, or if he did, I wanted him to just go to sleep. NO pain, no problems.
Now all I can think of is him realizing he was falling and could not stop himself from pain.


I have nothing left guys..............

and now for my favorite little guy....

He just came from the groomer, who put on the "I am a cub scout" bandana, and he is my happy place. He has become my home.
Don't ya just love him?

From my journal entry on ck.

If you are reading this blog for the first time you, and you are struggling with losing weight, thinking that it is just not worth it, please, reassess.

Preface: to those who do not know me: I had the gastric adjustable band put in on January 24, 2006. This was my only option after years of worsening health. It is a tool to help me out. It is not for everyone and not everyone should think about WLS as an "easy way out" because it isn't.But, after years of frustration, yoyoing with the same 10 pounds, feeling that even though I was really learning and doing what was correct for a healthier life, I was unable to do it.

It is now 10 months with my "tool" that reminds me when I am full and to stop eating now.
I have gone from my high of 316.5 to at this moment 255.

Here is the reality. The band is the tool. I exercise every day for at least 30 minutes, even if I am in pain and can only walk my dog slowly. I get the heart rate going.I eat lower carbs and higher quality proteins. I keep away from as many processed foods as I am able.

And I have a sense of humor.
And I believe in myself.

You guys can do it. The struggle may seem too hard right now, but work on getting the mind in the right place and the body, with or without a "tool" like the band, can come along.

My tool would not be working without my brain working with it.

I hated how I looked.
I love how beautiful I am today.
I can imagine how beautiful I will be in another 60 pounds.

Good luck on your journey.

My respect for the medical profession just got higher.

Pseudo Tumor Cerebri is what the neurologist is using at the moment.

I saw Dr. Levy one of the partners in the neurological group I go to. My regular guy was not able to fit me in. I went today and he is not happy. My exam was incredibly thorough. I have a whole litany of problems, more than I even realized before he examined me.
He did one funky test where I had to close my eyes and smell something out on first my left nostril then the right one. I thought at first it was compost, then with the right nostril it smelled like a wonderful cup of perfectly made coffee. My hearing in my left ear is completely different from the right side. My strength on my left side in general is 50% worse than the right. I drag my left leg and if not careful my right one drags also. If I do not have a counterbalance at times I end up walking backwards when I want to go forward. My arms go tingly and numb.
I have been getting massive headaches that stab at my eyes and my sight is narrowing. If I am not better with the headaches then on Monday I have to get a blood patch done.I may have ruptured the scab healing where the hold was for the spinal tap. Yuck. The tap was bad enough.

Dr. L. is sending me for more tests. Hesmiled at me after all the concern he showed and he said no one on his watch dies, that he won't allow it. I like this guy, this doctor who really want to help or if he can't as he said he may not be able to cure things, he can help to make my life as comfortable and productive as possible.So smile with me my friends...the sun will be out in a few hours and we can go fight the good fight all over again.

Everyone one of you keep me grounded and out of my shell.
Love you all.

Pain

Pain is an amazing thing.
It makes being nice very very difficult.

I use to deal with pain and the emotions by eating.
I turned it inside and made it my fault for everything.

I am not doing that anymore. This shit is not my fault.
I do not deserve it. I am not turning inward. I am turning my anger outward and that is really scarey.

Today was again just one of those karma crappy days. The last straw was and forgive the TMI, when my damn ostomy appliance opened up and everything ran down my leg.

I was at my folks so no embarassment from the outside. I just looked up at the sky and told the powers that be, "You win"

The day went better after that.

I am going to try and post a pic of my hair cut I got. I was just going for a trim but let my hair dresser lady have fun. I love it.

Lets see if I can do this...


Personally, I think I look kick ass georgeous....

Fuck it.

I swear, just when ya think life is leaving you alone for a while.

Okay, long story.

Tuesday morning I get up, call the neurologist and have to leave a message. "Oh, he won't be in until Thursday. We will get Dr. K. to call you back. When are you going to be in?" Now you idiots.... "Until noon when I have to leave to go to my gastroenterology appt, then after 3pm" "he will call you after three" Fine whatever.

I get into my car, go to my Gastro doc who, by the way is happy with my last upper gi series but is not happy with my neurological issues. Life's a bitch, doc, what cha gonna do?

I get into my car. My back is killing me and so I make damn sure I am belted in and driving too slow for most people on the northeastern seaboard. I wait for a red light to turn green so I can turn left. I am first in line, clear sight across the street, no cars coming at me. Light turns green, I purposely wait because I do not want to jack rabbit and hurt my back. I am clear all ways, and that folks is how they say, is that. I begin turning left and all of a sudden a kid on a bike is going across the street I am turning on and I end up plowing right into him. I jammed on my breaks, the kid thank goodness is wearing a helmet properly and he falls away from my car. My first thought is WHAT THE MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH JUST HAPPENED? I still see this dumb fucking 14 year old kid falling in front of me. I jammed my car into park and do not know how I did it but got out and literally dragged his ass out of the middle of on coming traffic (of which three cars did not even think about stopping) He already was up and saying he was fine. He said his mom was going to kill him and he just wanted to go home. I told him that if he moved one foot from me I would kill him.

There were 6 different witnesses telling me I was not to blame as was the kid saying it. I didn't care, this kid could have been killed by two tons of car. Right at the moment I am still shaking.

Anyway, once the kid is fine, bike is not bad, I lost it. Two of the witnessess took me by the arms and helped me back to my car. I began shaking and could not stop. I could not make myself move my car. Instead they asked another witness to move my car and helped me to the sidewalk where I stood for two seconds and then promptly sat my self down on the corner and almost passed out. I did not know it then but from jamming on the brakes and then getting out of the car, I wrenched my neck and back. The witnesses who hung around were wonderful. They called 911 and made sure the police got the kids name and info as well as their info. They called an ambulance and while the kid went home I ended up in the ER in a neck brace and a butt full of morphine for pain for 10 hours. My x rays showed possible damage to my C1-3 spine and problems with my lower lumbar spinal. I went for a CAT which said that nothing was fractured or broke but I do have "Disc disease". I could have sworn the ER doc also said "Degenerative" but my mom says no. Maybe the doc just meant my demeanor.... The ER doc said there are narrow spots along my spinal column and I will need an MRI to determine exactly where and what damage is going on. SO I was realeased with good drugs that unfortunately I reacted badly too after awhile, dry heaves for three hours. People, I think I am going to quit everything for a short while. I cannot face my car. Just thinking of starting the engine is making me nervous. My neck hurts to move any way at all. My eyes are better off looking straight ahead.

And my dog pooped all over his butt yesterday and I have to get dried poop off of him.

Now, I apologize to anyone who does believe in god.

I was agnostic. Now I just hate that higher power. He/she/it/they/ whatever has to exist and I am just really really pissed off. I am not Job, I have no boils on my butt at the moment but after being sick with one thing or another for over 25 years and every time I think I am making headway, something drags me down, I can't forgive and forget any longer. As for the boy, I hope his mother first hugged him closely and then beat the living tar out of him for being so fucking reckless. I will say this, I am grateful that I had to have an xray of my spine and an ER doc with a good eye.

This was last night.
Today my neurologist called me and did use the words "Degenerative disc disease" but nothing big time. Yet.

Now I just need to stop throwing up and being in pain.

One step ahead, two steps back....

The request on CK.

someone asked in a thread for a new challenge.

Okay, here is one.

For one day,just one day,
say, act, do, nothing mean or nasty or destructive to anyone including yourself.

Intentionally or unintentionally.

Then journal how your day went.
It is both the hardest and easiest challenge around.

After the last month, I need to do this.