Five Spade Week Begins
Sunday, January 15th, 2023 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozefestaudioA bit warmer today, up in the low 30sF, but it was windy, so... kind of a wash. The cats came down with me in the morning again for the second day, and the living room door stayed open all day.
After walking Yvette, I washed a bunch of dishes and silverware in the kitchen, while Tim did a bit of finish cleaning in the bathroom. And meanwhile, Yvette and the cats seemed to be coexisting even better than yesterday.
Dad... is just hanging on by a thread. Every time we checked on him, he was thirsty, but if you give him any water, he starts to cough, but he's got barely enough strength to cough, and he can only communicate in a whisper.
--<>--
I was thinking it's time to give him morphine, but Tim was still thinking that might be too extreme.
I called the hospice and the nurse suggested I give him Lorazapan for anxiety, which is a tiny pill that can be put in the cheek by his teeth and dissolve there. But she said his mouth had to be moistened first, by either a sponge stick, or a spray bottle.
We decided to try that first, but Kevin showed up just before we were ready to do it, and that delayed the Lorazapan for another hour, as Kevin caught up with Dad, and then caught up with us, in the back room.
Finally, we did give him a lorazapan, and then Tim & I ran for smokes, and Kevin sat with Dad playing him church music from his phone, as he also worked on his phone.
--<>--
It was a weird, pensive evening, where we tried to keep things normal, but Dad continued to keep coughing, and his breathing was getting more rapid.
Kevin agreed with me that it was morphine time, so I finally administered the first little dose of the stuff to Dad, and he did seem to quiet down and rest easy after that.
------------{=0=}------------
I'll spare you any further, play by play, and skip to what's emerging as the new point of potential conflict tonight.
Tims family, back in Las Vegas, are basically all planning to storm the house this Friday. It started just with his daughter Veda, who had made an effort to come and see Grampa the past several years.
Veda really wanted to come see him one last time, despite the fact that she's pregnant and has a two year old. So Tim and others, including Sheila, tried to brainstorm to get that to happen.
But in that process, Three of his other kids, Frank, Joe, and Wendy, decided that they too, absolutely MUST come along with Veda to see grampa one last time! And then they brainstormed some more and found ways to pay for the three more tickets.
Then Tim's ex wife, decided to jump on the band wagon, and now she found a way to get out here by Friday, and she's gonna stay with Veda, Frank, Joe, Wendy, and little baby Emberly, who is Veda's two year old.
So now we're talking about six people, one of whom is the ex wife, who isn't necessarily on the best terms with any of the rest of them, or us... all shooting for Friday, as the day to storm the house, and see Grampa one last time!
--<>--
So the issue here is... Dad's probably not gonna make it to Friday... and Tim doesn't want to believe it... because Tim wants his family to see Grampa alive one last time, and he wants Grampa to rally one last time when they get here.
He wants Grampa to sit up, and start talking and joking with them, and drink another Guinness, and smoke another Newport for them... because he's heard that this can happen in some cases... and he deeply wants to believe that people choose the time of their death, and therefore... Dad can last until Friday.
This is why Tim was against giving Dad morphine today. Not so much because the morphine will hasten his death... as much as... it's admitting he probably won't make it to Friday.
I'm thankful Kevin is here right now, to give that third point of view, who agreed with me about the morphine saying, "Hey!.. If I were in Dad's position right now... I'd want that morphine."
So, Dad did get it, but Kevin and I agreed he would need another dose by 1AM, before he was left alone overnight.
But afer Kevin left... a bit after midnight... Tim DID find a way to start an argument with me, that caused me to storm upstairs at 1AM.
Now, I did come to my wits and get back down there at 2AM to give Dad more morphine, but, I also learned something about Tim.
--<>--
His wedge for the argument was me worrying about Snoop & Prowly getting outside while I'm at work, with so many people in the house.
And he began using this language like, "Well we'll do everything within reason to make sure the cats are okay, but I don't want it to become pathological with everybody walking on eggshells to protect your cats, because I know the cats are your one weakness.
Which is clearly infuriating language, designed to get me angry enough to storm upstairs and forget to give Dad more morphine.
But the telltale, drunk confession was when he said that my cats were my weakness... because it confesses that he was looking for a weakness to exploit... a button to push!
--<>--
After I did give Dad the second dose of morphine at 2AM. He started drunk texing me... trying all kinds of tactics to further enfuriate me... saying I didn't care about his family and didn't respect them.
Nobody cared about his family ever! Nobody cared about him! My cats were more important than my own kin! They still had time to cancel their tickets. They're all just trying to help me!
He pulls this shit on other people all the time, but I'm his older brother, and I wasn't having it.
So I mirrored his texts back to him saying his kids were more important than his brother's cats. I could still kill my cats if he wanted me to. My cats were just trying to help with the mouse problem downstairs.
He devolved into, "They're cancelling their tickets and I'm leaving tomorrow!"
I said, "Good. Go."
At length, he texted back, "It could take a few days for me to be able to leave... bla bla bla."
I said, "Don't care."
30 minutes later, "Nobody's ever cared about me or my family... bla bla bla."
"Cry me a river."
--<>--
Thankfully both Snoop & Prowly are back upstairs with me now, and Tim hasn't fired back. So hopefully he'll pass out and sleep it off soon.
But... the motherfucker's forgotten what it's like to go up against a sibling who knows your fucking playbook.
I kinda fell for his bullshit at first, but once he said the word, "weakness," in reference to my cats... I knew what he was doing.
And now that I know... he's getting, "Good. Go." and, "Don't care." to anything he tries to say.
I really do not care! If he can't resist creating undue drama like this, on a Sunday night, when Dad's near the end... he DOES need to go! And I DON'T need his help!
------------{=0=}------------
The other thing that rankled Tim tonight... that Kevin and I happened to agree about, was that we should probably have Dad cremated, and put on our own memorial in the living room with his ashes, so that anybody can come in their own time, over the next few months, to pay their respects when they can.
I consulted Chat GPT, which pointed us to, direct cremation.. which is a way to get his body from the deathbed, directly to the cremation facility, without any intermediary funeral home holding him in a freezer for $1000.00 a night.
This plan is predicated upon the fact that... none of us have any money for a full blown wake and funeral, with an embalmed body in an expensive casket, being lowered into an expensive ass concrete vault that's gonna fill up with ground water a week later.
Still, Tim was arguing that this was not Dad's wishes, and we should do whatever we could to go the funeral route, and bury him next to Mom!
That stance was contrary to what he told me on the phone two weeks ago... where he said he'd be okay missing a, "pomp & circumstance funeral" if he got to see Dad while he was alive before hand.
So... his 180 on the funeral must have to do with the influence of Veda, his ex-wife Kate, and the rest of his kids... who all remember the big deal that Mom's funeral was... and want to relive that three ring circus one more time, so they can all feel proper closure.
But that's some expensive ass closure!
It was the last time around with Mom!
------------{=0=}------------
So... Tim kinda broke today.
He was in denial coming into this, a week ago. And he's in denial now about the death spiral he's witnessed this week, along with Kevin and I.
That denial is what encouraged his family to think there was enough hope, and enough time to blow a ton of money they don't have, to come out and see Grampa one last time.
And he knows, they're now on a course to arrive too late.
He can't deal with it. He's threatening my cats. He's standing in the way of Dad's morphine. He wants us all to pony up for a funeral nobody can afford. All for the sake of saving face with his ex wife and kids... and... fuck him!
This is my house, and I have power of attorney over Dad!
The other four siblings agree about the cremation.
If that means nobody gives a shit about his family... like he's crying about... too fucking bad! Where were you and your family for the past 8 years? And where's the money now?
------------{=0=}------------
I'm sad to have to be writing this kind of entry tonight, but... with five siblings, it was unavoidable.
But... this is how the Five of Spades week Begins!
Colleen arrives tomorrow afternoon.
°¦}
https://soundcloud.com/snoozefestaudio
After walking Yvette, I washed a bunch of dishes and silverware in the kitchen, while Tim did a bit of finish cleaning in the bathroom. And meanwhile, Yvette and the cats seemed to be coexisting even better than yesterday.
Dad... is just hanging on by a thread. Every time we checked on him, he was thirsty, but if you give him any water, he starts to cough, but he's got barely enough strength to cough, and he can only communicate in a whisper.
I was thinking it's time to give him morphine, but Tim was still thinking that might be too extreme.
I called the hospice and the nurse suggested I give him Lorazapan for anxiety, which is a tiny pill that can be put in the cheek by his teeth and dissolve there. But she said his mouth had to be moistened first, by either a sponge stick, or a spray bottle.
We decided to try that first, but Kevin showed up just before we were ready to do it, and that delayed the Lorazapan for another hour, as Kevin caught up with Dad, and then caught up with us, in the back room.
Finally, we did give him a lorazapan, and then Tim & I ran for smokes, and Kevin sat with Dad playing him church music from his phone, as he also worked on his phone.
It was a weird, pensive evening, where we tried to keep things normal, but Dad continued to keep coughing, and his breathing was getting more rapid.
Kevin agreed with me that it was morphine time, so I finally administered the first little dose of the stuff to Dad, and he did seem to quiet down and rest easy after that.
I'll spare you any further, play by play, and skip to what's emerging as the new point of potential conflict tonight.
Tims family, back in Las Vegas, are basically all planning to storm the house this Friday. It started just with his daughter Veda, who had made an effort to come and see Grampa the past several years.
Veda really wanted to come see him one last time, despite the fact that she's pregnant and has a two year old. So Tim and others, including Sheila, tried to brainstorm to get that to happen.
But in that process, Three of his other kids, Frank, Joe, and Wendy, decided that they too, absolutely MUST come along with Veda to see grampa one last time! And then they brainstormed some more and found ways to pay for the three more tickets.
Then Tim's ex wife, decided to jump on the band wagon, and now she found a way to get out here by Friday, and she's gonna stay with Veda, Frank, Joe, Wendy, and little baby Emberly, who is Veda's two year old.
So now we're talking about six people, one of whom is the ex wife, who isn't necessarily on the best terms with any of the rest of them, or us... all shooting for Friday, as the day to storm the house, and see Grampa one last time!
So the issue here is... Dad's probably not gonna make it to Friday... and Tim doesn't want to believe it... because Tim wants his family to see Grampa alive one last time, and he wants Grampa to rally one last time when they get here.
He wants Grampa to sit up, and start talking and joking with them, and drink another Guinness, and smoke another Newport for them... because he's heard that this can happen in some cases... and he deeply wants to believe that people choose the time of their death, and therefore... Dad can last until Friday.
This is why Tim was against giving Dad morphine today. Not so much because the morphine will hasten his death... as much as... it's admitting he probably won't make it to Friday.
I'm thankful Kevin is here right now, to give that third point of view, who agreed with me about the morphine saying, "Hey!.. If I were in Dad's position right now... I'd want that morphine."
So, Dad did get it, but Kevin and I agreed he would need another dose by 1AM, before he was left alone overnight.
But afer Kevin left... a bit after midnight... Tim DID find a way to start an argument with me, that caused me to storm upstairs at 1AM.
Now, I did come to my wits and get back down there at 2AM to give Dad more morphine, but, I also learned something about Tim.
His wedge for the argument was me worrying about Snoop & Prowly getting outside while I'm at work, with so many people in the house.
And he began using this language like, "Well we'll do everything within reason to make sure the cats are okay, but I don't want it to become pathological with everybody walking on eggshells to protect your cats, because I know the cats are your one weakness.
Which is clearly infuriating language, designed to get me angry enough to storm upstairs and forget to give Dad more morphine.
But the telltale, drunk confession was when he said that my cats were my weakness... because it confesses that he was looking for a weakness to exploit... a button to push!
After I did give Dad the second dose of morphine at 2AM. He started drunk texing me... trying all kinds of tactics to further enfuriate me... saying I didn't care about his family and didn't respect them.
Nobody cared about his family ever! Nobody cared about him! My cats were more important than my own kin! They still had time to cancel their tickets. They're all just trying to help me!
He pulls this shit on other people all the time, but I'm his older brother, and I wasn't having it.
So I mirrored his texts back to him saying his kids were more important than his brother's cats. I could still kill my cats if he wanted me to. My cats were just trying to help with the mouse problem downstairs.
He devolved into, "They're cancelling their tickets and I'm leaving tomorrow!"
I said, "Good. Go."
At length, he texted back, "It could take a few days for me to be able to leave... bla bla bla."
I said, "Don't care."
30 minutes later, "Nobody's ever cared about me or my family... bla bla bla."
"Cry me a river."
Thankfully both Snoop & Prowly are back upstairs with me now, and Tim hasn't fired back. So hopefully he'll pass out and sleep it off soon.
But... the motherfucker's forgotten what it's like to go up against a sibling who knows your fucking playbook.
I kinda fell for his bullshit at first, but once he said the word, "weakness," in reference to my cats... I knew what he was doing.
And now that I know... he's getting, "Good. Go." and, "Don't care." to anything he tries to say.
I really do not care! If he can't resist creating undue drama like this, on a Sunday night, when Dad's near the end... he DOES need to go! And I DON'T need his help!
The other thing that rankled Tim tonight... that Kevin and I happened to agree about, was that we should probably have Dad cremated, and put on our own memorial in the living room with his ashes, so that anybody can come in their own time, over the next few months, to pay their respects when they can.
I consulted Chat GPT, which pointed us to, direct cremation.. which is a way to get his body from the deathbed, directly to the cremation facility, without any intermediary funeral home holding him in a freezer for $1000.00 a night.
This plan is predicated upon the fact that... none of us have any money for a full blown wake and funeral, with an embalmed body in an expensive casket, being lowered into an expensive ass concrete vault that's gonna fill up with ground water a week later.
Still, Tim was arguing that this was not Dad's wishes, and we should do whatever we could to go the funeral route, and bury him next to Mom!
That stance was contrary to what he told me on the phone two weeks ago... where he said he'd be okay missing a, "pomp & circumstance funeral" if he got to see Dad while he was alive before hand.
So... his 180 on the funeral must have to do with the influence of Veda, his ex-wife Kate, and the rest of his kids... who all remember the big deal that Mom's funeral was... and want to relive that three ring circus one more time, so they can all feel proper closure.
But that's some expensive ass closure!
It was the last time around with Mom!
So... Tim kinda broke today.
He was in denial coming into this, a week ago. And he's in denial now about the death spiral he's witnessed this week, along with Kevin and I.
That denial is what encouraged his family to think there was enough hope, and enough time to blow a ton of money they don't have, to come out and see Grampa one last time.
And he knows, they're now on a course to arrive too late.
He can't deal with it. He's threatening my cats. He's standing in the way of Dad's morphine. He wants us all to pony up for a funeral nobody can afford. All for the sake of saving face with his ex wife and kids... and... fuck him!
This is my house, and I have power of attorney over Dad!
The other four siblings agree about the cremation.
If that means nobody gives a shit about his family... like he's crying about... too fucking bad! Where were you and your family for the past 8 years? And where's the money now?
I'm sad to have to be writing this kind of entry tonight, but... with five siblings, it was unavoidable.
But... this is how the Five of Spades week Begins!
Colleen arrives tomorrow afternoon.
°¦}
