This year has been one of many milestones and changes. This is the year I learned of my beloved Morpheus’ cancer, had to deal with his death and the loss of not having my companion of almost 8 years at my side. This is also the year my mother was diagnosed with dementia. In both instances my first reaction to the news was of guilt.
With Morphy’s cancer I felt guilty I hadn’t taken better care of him. To this day I feel there could have been more I could have done for him, that I could have noticed his sickness sooner. With my mother’s diagnoses I feel guilt for living 1000 miles away. I feel guilt for not being there to take care of her. I feel guilt for not being there to notice the signs of the illness sooner. I feel guilt for not being there to force her to see a doctor.
As I have mentioned in prior posts I only tend to see my parents once a year or every other year. It is a situation that sucks and I wish I could afford to see them longer and more often. Two years ago last Christmas I noticed my mother’s ability to tell a story was faulty. Those who know her know that she is an awesome storyteller. She has a PhD in Hispanic American Literature and she is one of the reasons I am a bookworm. Last August when she came to visit I noticed her ability to recall words in both Spanish and English were off the norm. I told her I was worried something was wrong and she promised me she would go see a doctor. Christmas came and she hadn’t seen a doctor yet. I could notice her frustration at her not being to tell a story of something that had recently happened. Every time she would have trouble recalling a word she would just say “tu sabes” which translates to ‘you know’. I would tell her that I didn’t know what she meant and force her to take her time recalling the word or name and told her to be patient with herself. To make a long story short it wasn’t until March that my mother was able to see a doctor. I think part of her was in denial about the whole situation.
These past few months I have only told a few people of my mother’s condition. I think that I thought if I didn’t talk about it would be less real. My guilt has transformed into despair about my lack of ability to help her. My father and grandmother tell me that when she talks to me on the phone her eyes light up and she becomes more like her old self. I know they are trying to make me feel better but in reality their words remind me of my guilt. Maybe if I lived there she would get better. Since living in Puerto Rico is currently not an option with my PhD studies underway the most I can do is use my vacation time to see her. This decision makes me feel guilty that I am not going to be spending a lot of time with my husband. Guilt is my word of the year.
One of my greatest fears in regards to my mother’s health is that by the time we decide to try to conceive that her short-term memory is going to be so affected that she won’t be able to enjoy a grandchild from us. So far her condition is just affecting her language center but who knows what it can affect next. My greatest hope is that the medication that they are giving her helps. I am more than willing to make any sacrifice I can to help my mother. All I can currently do is dote on her and spend as much time with her. I find myself in a tug of war with my emotions. Happiness with my studies and the long-term rewards that they promise, sadness with Morphy’s death, happiness of being in love with my darling husband and guilt/sadness/frustration, etc with my mother’s health. I am really hoping 2012 treats me better.
I now have two awful words on my list of hated words: death and dementia. Both of those words suck and are vindictive frakers. Muerte y dementia…los dos se pueden ir a carajo.
