Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Surprises have never been my favorite thing

Growing up with a schizophrenic mother provided lots of surprises. I've always hated surprises. I felt sideswiped and caught off guard. Surprises were things that came with fatigue in the middle of the night or a grounding from some imagined behavior or friends not allowed to play anymore.

She gave me the gift of my baby book about 15 years ago. I was really excited because I didn't know it existed. It hadn't. She'd written all her information in it. Nothing about me. She didn't seem to know I was a separate person. Trust me, contrary to the baby book, orange is not my favorite color. I came home from a six week visit at my dad's to find she'd surprised me by painting all my pretty white wall decorations...orange. My yellow and white room that I'd just finished decorating was yellow and orange. Her whole house was orange.

I hate surprises so much that I research every angle to be prepared. (People think I'm organized, lol. I just don't want to be sideswiped. One of the side effects of being a child of a schizophrenic.) Let's put it this way, my love language is not gifts because they surprise me and I don't handle surprise well.

One I didn't expect was the rush of emotion I felt on Christmas Eve. Mom's seriously swollen from the waist down. Her legs were so heavy and hard they felt like bowling balls. Mom is sitting in a wheel chair and I have to transfer her in and out of the car. Her weight has been around 140ish. Not usually a problem. My separated rib didn't make it any easier when I almost fell from the extra heaviness of fluid retention. A lot of fluid retention.

She couldn't speak coherently. Words came out garbled. My son, Devan, watched her through watery compassion as she unwrapped and wrapped her gifts several times. He'd look to me and hold my gaze. I'm so grateful that all my children are wonderful and gently patient with their grandmother.

How's this for dense? I had no idea the swelling meant her kidneys and liver are shutting down, the confusion is from lack of pumping blood, and it all equals congestive heart failure. Surprise.

The last two days I've spent talking (and crying) with my husband about what to do. I knew I had to plan her funeral. I knew I had to get all the team set up for the brain donation. I thought I had months to years to get it done. Now I find it may be days to months. I've been expecting this time. But still, I've been on a rollercoaster. Why? I am really asking why. I've thought she would go anytime for the last several years. So why am I feeling all this emotion now?

Mom and I have had such an outrageous life. When I was twelve, we ran from the CIA in the middle of the night. Yes, we really ran through the night to escape. No, there was no one chasing us. Mom thought there were CIA with guns surrounding my grandparent's house. She'd escaped from Colorado General by stealing a truck that day and hidden in their basement. She imagined problems with every boss she ever had and every pastor. For years I wanted to get off Space Mountain and walk on level ground.

Today I stood in the funeral home asking questions. I have an appointment on Thursday to get answers. They said that the funeral home even has a place to handle the donation process. Okay. Now I have to find a willing pathologist for the time to come. I wonder how hard that will be? I'm so tired. I'll try tomorrow.

I sat in the parking lot afterwards for a long time trying to decipher the packet of prices. It took a long time. I couldn't understand what I was reading. That's actually weird for me. According to testing when I was young, I'm supposed to be pretty smart. Reading and writing is supposedly my forte'. Not today. No, not today.

What process do you think you have forever to do? What would change it and make it an immediate need? Should you make time now so you aren't sideswiped later?

Angie

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Angie,

I'm so sorry to read about your mother's conjestive heart failure. I will keep you and your family in my prayers. If you need anything. Call me.

Jennifer

AngBreidenbach said...

Thank you so much Jennifer. I spent today planning for all the activity that will happen in the very short hours once her death occurs. That was so hard. People were so good even to suggesting difficulties to avoid if it happens on a weekend. The Medical Examiner's office is going to help me. I am grateful.
Angie

Colleen Coble said...

Oh wow, Angie, I had no idea. What an awful way to grow up. But you've turned into a fabulous person, so all those experiences didn't go to waste. They shaped you into who you are today.

AngBreidenbach said...

Colleen, you are such an uplifting person. I'm so glad to know you. Thank you for your support. And growing up wasn't so much awful as that's just the way it was, you know? Mom found ways to show love. She found ways to try to do the right things in the midst of her own terror. I think that has to count for something.
Angie

Miralee Ferrell said...

Hi Angie, this is my first visit to your site after getting an email from you a day or so ago, stating you thought we had a bit in common, with our animals & living in the NW. After reading some of your blog, I see we have even more...I have a sister, 18 months older than me, who is also schizophrenic. She tried to raise a son & my mom & I finally interveend to have him removed at the age of 12 (he lived with my mom till he turned 18) when her behavior became dangerous to his health. We've had so many ups & downs with her over the years & often don't hear from her for weeks, or months at a time. I hurt with you & for you, over your Mom. Hugs & blessings as you go through this difficult time, Miralee

AngBreidenbach said...

Dear Miralee,
Thank you for sharing your experience. I have to say I thank God for your ability to help your nephew. I confess that at 12 yrs old, I was wishing for someone to save me. It is a heavy burden for a child to be under with a schizophrenic parent. I hope your sister is taking her meds and getting help, but the way our laws are leave mentally ill people the freedom to reject help that they truly need and families helpless. This above all else leaves raw holes in relationships and our society. I wish we could do more. I'm with you in the frustration and pain of not knowing where and how your sister is doing. We went through this too when my mom disappeared on the streets of Denver. God Bless you and your family-Angie

Anonymous said...

Sending warm hugs and prayers for you. If I could sit with you awhile, there would be so much I'd like to ask. My own mother passed away about 3 years ago, and I'm just now assimilating information that seems to indicate she suffered some type of mental illness. But of course she never went to a doctor to get a diagnosis...she just spent her life alienating everyone.

God bless you. I'll keep you in my prayers.

AngBreidenbach said...

Light,
Please email me. I'd love to answer any of your questions. I understand the frustration of knowing something is wrong and no one to confirm it. I'll be happy to "sit" with you and chat.
Angie
PS I left my private email on your site.