[ music | Pixies - Here Comes Your Man ]

Yeah. Well, I hit the big Three Oh a few weeks ago, so I guess it was finally time to settle down and become a family man. It was kind of a whirlwind courtship, but sometimes you know a thing is right and dive in head first. Her name is Oksana, she's from a little village outside of Dnipropetrovsk, Ukraine. We actually got married there, we just got back yesterday. We were going to have the honeymoon there but we had some problems at the reception, and felt it better to try to find some place more relaxing here in the States. So we're back, and happy as clams. Here's to a whole new outlook, folks! Bud'mo!

Here's a picture from the reception. Isn't she adorable?!

[ music | The Waitresses - Christmas Wrapping ]

Merry Christmas, people to all, and to all, a good night. ;)

[ music | R.E.M - Try Not to Breathe ]

Well, crisis averted, the world moves on. The bleeding was minimal, stopped fast, and by Sunday night, the only lasting effect was some decreased use of her right hand. The musculature is just as strong, she can squeeze her fingers just as well as ever, but opening her hand doesn't seem to work, so she's going to need some rehab for that. Other than that, there's no slurred speech, no muscle tone loss, no drooping of the facial muscles on the right side, zip.

They were unable to find the cause of the clot, however. They did CT scans and an MRI with contrast, a body scan to look for tumors, did an echo cardiogram, blood work, nothing abnormal showed up. During the MRI, they were looking for aneurysms, and found none, but they did find four older small clots. Before now no one had determined the physical cause of her dementia, so there's some speculation these may have been at least a partial cause. It's odd because there were never any symptoms of stroke, so both the unknown origin of these clots and when they occurred are mysteries. But they put her on heparin in the hospital, and she's on a long term blood thinning agent. She's back at the home and doing quite well now.

One of these days I'm going to get a little rest, too. :)

[ music | I'm not playing any music... ]

My mom's now had a stroke, with some bleeding in the brain.

She had recovered somewhat from the incident a couple weeks ago, but not fully. She was markedly worse than before, and there were progressions of her disease that made it impossible for me to continue to care for her at home any longer. I was receiving great help from the UPMC Northwest social worker, and we were working on placing her in a nearby nursing home that has a special dementia unit, but they didn't have any openings yet. We were going to have to move her Friday the 20th. We were going to have to temporarily place her in a facility about 25 miles away until the nearby home had an opening. Thursday night, a resident passed away, opening up a bed. This meant mom could go directly to the near facility where she was going to end up sooner or later anyway. to the family of the woman who passed, my condolences. That woman didn't linger long, thankfully, she took a bad turn just a few days prior, and wasn't conscious during that time. She died quickly and painlessly, with her loved ones near. It also allowed for the best possible care for my mother to happen, prevent a temporary stay far away, and two transports that could provide for emotional stress to a dementia patient.

I visited her yesterday. She was already doing better than she had been in the hospital, being calmer and easier to talk with. She even managed to get a good night's sleep last night. She was eater better too.

Today, about 2pm, I got a call from the home. She was being helped into the bathroom, and collapsed. "She seemed to pass out." They got her back to her bed, but she seemed to be having weakness on the right side, and didn't seem to be able to squeeze the nurse's fingers. There was some concern it might be a stroke. I agreed and they sent her back to the hospital ER. It was a stroke, and it had started to bleed. A combination of an ischemic stroke and hemorrhagic stroke. She's been flown by med-evac helicopter to Pittsburgh.

She's not in the ICU, so she's not imminently critical. She's in the neurological unit while they run a gamut of tests such as a CT angiogram on her head to determine exactly what is going on with the brain blood vessels. I have no idea what else is happening, won't find out till later and tomorrow. In the meantime I have to figure out when, and more importantly how to get down there. My car's undergoing a transmission transplant and while it was nonfunctional I let the insurance go, I need to get insurance again. This was all going to happen at the beginning of next month with some paychecks coming in. Nothing like extra stress to keep you on your toes.

P.S. I just turned 29 in March. She's only 63. This isn't the kind of thing you expect at these ages. Not that anyone ever expects it...

[ music | John Cage - 4'33" ]

Today we had a hearing at the hospital. On Thursday, since my mother was not in a condition to admit herself, I had to make an involuntary commitment. Today's hearing was to determine if there was cause to continue the involuntary commitment for up to another 20 days. There was a court appointed attorney to represent her. His job was to strenuously argue her case. The social worked from the hospital said that this attorney was quite good at it, and had several times successfully convinced the court clerk (who reports to a judge) to release a person against the doctors' advice. After speaking with my mother for a few moments, the only thing he asked the doctor during his "cross examination" was what happens if she needs to stay past 20 days. There are contingencies for that the doctor explained. The attorney put up no argument against keeping my mother at the hospital. She's extremely incoherent.

During the next 20 days the hospital social workers are helping me place her in a care facility nearby. There are two excellent facilities with ten miles of me, luckily.

What this means is my mom left home Thursday, and isn't coming back. I miss my mom. It wasn't supposed to end this way. It wasn't supposed to happen so fast.

[ music | Regina Spektor - Edit ]

Ok, so, I'm being a little lazy here. I meant to blog this for a while, but kept putting it off. I finally wrote out a quickie recap, and am just copying it here. That way I can't put it off anymore. :P

January through March, not much interesting happens. I finish a contract for a few grand and use that for moving expenses.

March, try to move to Boston. Apartment is NOT what it was supposed to be. The landlord was, umm, "high" is the word. The whole building smelled of dogs, pot, and cheap Glade carpet freshener. Moved back home a week later.

May, mom's gone so far downhill and she just can't see it. I'm thinking the depression and anxiety is just too bad to wait for her to see it on her own, convinced her to sign herself into the hospital for a little while. The convincing was that either she did it or I would. Turns out it's not depression and anxiety, it's early dementia. That sucks. But it explains a LOT. The meds have made a miraculous improvement. However, my future is immutably different now. Not worse, Just different. I can handle problems once they're identified.

End of May, started work for a local ISP, as working a regular full time gig is easier now that mom's much more stable.

June, new apartment. Mid June, got indigestion after a pizza. Two nights in a row.

August, indigestion again after another pizza.

September, got a used car. Nice 1990 Audi.

October 8, 11:30 pm, indigestion again. Again after pizza.

October 9, 1:20pm, I passed out crossing the street, from pain. The indigestion was horrible. ambulance takes me to the ER. I throw up in the ambulance. Cold sweat, nausea from hell, pain like I can't describe. ER docs shoot me with 10mg of morphine and something for the nausea. I fall in love with them, the angels of mercy. Exam of the vomit, some blood, urine, and sonogram of my abdomen reveal gallstones were blocking the cystic duct, backing up bile into the pancreas giving me a mild case of pancreatitis. The stone had passed, so I didn't need emergency surgery. The next week I saw a surgeon, we scheduled it for December 8.

December 8, I have my gall bladder out. In the hospital at 6:30am, into surgery at 9:00am, woke up about 11:20am. Sore for a few days, but I never have to worry about a fatty meal nearly killing me again.

Christmas, the year ends better than it begins. That's progress.

So, that, in a nutshell, was 2006. Cheers.

[ music | Nina Gordon - New Year's Eve ]

To all the little people out there, and the big ones too, Happy New Year! I raise a glass to all the people who have come and gone last year, the world wouldn't be the same without you, and I raise another to all who will come and go in this new year. For the first time in a long time the year ended better than it began for me, and I'm going to make damned sure it stays that way this year. So, party on people. We have 364 more days to live it up until 2008.

[ music | Depeche Mode - Strangelove ]

Ok, so, in 6.75 hours I have to be at the hospital. wish me luck. Make me feel better and buy me a calendar from my wish list. :)

Update, 6:30pm, Dec 8: Yarr, I'm home. Sore, but gallbladderless. BBL, as I'm frackin' tired.

[ music | Alanis Morissette - Not the Doctor ]

Ok, so, Monday I had my little surgical consultation about my gallbladder surgery. It's scheduled for December 8. The day after the day that will live in infamy. It'll be a laparoscopic procedure, with four small incisions; one for the camera, and three for instruments. that is, it'll be they "keyhole" operation if things go ok, which they should. The issue is it seems my liver, pancreas, and gall bladder are a little higher up in the abdomen than normal, and thus further up under the ribcage a little more. This means there's a slightly higher chance of "complication" that would mean it would have to be an open procedure. This would be an 8-10 inch incision through the abdomen, which the surgeon described as "a bitch". I would tend to agree, despite my limited medical experience. So I'm hoping he can get high enough with the instruments to avoid the "bitch" procedure. We'll see. Sometimes you just gotta roll the hard six.

I love how with every single medical procedure I have the doctors come back with a, "Well, there's this little issue..." It's like nothing in my body is quite average. It's always, "well, isn't that interesting!" Although I must admit, when I had the ultrasound exam, it was performed by not one, not two, but three beautiful young ladies, one student, one graduate, and one "skilled technician", not one of them over 28. Forty-five minutes being palpitated by cute girls? Almost worth it.

[ music | Imogen Heap - The Moment I Said It ]

I always loved this hour of the day/night/what-have-you. Right now it's ten to five a.m., 54 degrees out, and foggy. There's just something about it tha tmakes the perfect endcap to whatever kind of day I had, good or bad. Sitting up in the wee hours, chatting with a friend or three, watching the world sleep. It makes me feel powerful in the sense that there's a whole nothing day ready to dawn, I can see and feel it coming. It really makes the idea of a life stretching out before me palpable. It's one of the few times I can look around a find some genuine hope, a feeling not ginned up nor blindly clung to for the sake of mental health. There really is another day coming, life goes on.

It's been one of the roughest years yet so far, and it's not over, but frankly I think rock bottom was hit, and is receeding at an increasing rate. You can sit and think about how you'd take various forms of bad news, but you're never right. I really assumed I'd take certain things a lot harder before I could move on, but I didn't. That shouldn't surprise me, but it does. For a mere moment, it was, "Holy shit." But a beat later it was, "Well, ok, so, where do we go next?" Unchangable situations are just that, unchangable, so don't waste your time complaining. The faster you get on dealing with it the easier it is. I guess the old advice is correct, just rip the bandage right off and get it over with.

I still love the nights, too. I think I'm almost ready to start finding someone to share them with, too. Almost, I'm not that mature yet. ;)

[ music | Johnny Cash - Hurt ]

And I don't do anything in half measures. If it doesn't hurt, you're not doing it right.

[ music | Aimee Mann - Save Me ]

I have such a crushing headache my head feels like it's filled with neutronium. I'm not sure if it's gravity is trying to implode my head, or it's explosive pressure is trying to blow open my skull. Either way, with various meds doing NOTHING to kill it, it's time to pass out for a while and let it ooze out my ears.