Please excuse this entry of its horrible grammar and lack of content that isn’t depressing. I can’t really find the energy to type properly (or at least at the not!quality I usually do).
First off, my great grandfather is still in the hospital. The doctors had put off testing until yesterday, and they’ll be going in to examine something they found in him. It was described to me as “two black spots” in his side and heart, whatever that means. Doesn’t sound too good to me, and I’m not really up to trying to find out what it could really be, since “two black spots” doesn’t narrow it down too much.
And, as usual in times of family emergencies, there’s drama. At least with my family. I’ll try to explain, but don’t expect to understand. It’s confusing and retarded and not worth the effort of relating in a blog post, but I’m doing it anyway as a means to relieve myself of the fucktarded stress it’s been causing everyone.
Someone told my grandmother that nobody was visiting my great grandpa in the hospital (or something like that), so my grandfather went to check it out. Meanwhile, Betty Lou (my cousin, my great grandfather’s grandchild), her mother (“Aunt Sis”), cousin Pumpkin (Betty’s sister), my great Aunt Vie and others were at the hospital. My grandfather, upon arriving, was told by my Aunt Vie (one of his only sisters that never starts shit with other people or causes drama) told him that “Shit’s starting up again about you and Marg [my grandmother]”. In response, he said he had come over to check things out because there was supposedly drama about nobody visiting my great grandfather, and that he was tired of people starting shit about him and my grandmother.
Betty Lou, for whatever reason, felt offended and starting screaming at my grandfather about it (? the fuck?) and told her mom, Aunt Sis, “Come on, we’re leaving.” She was also saying something about getting tired of people starting on her mom. Huh? Aunt Sis, who, like an idiot, was drunk while at the hospital, also joined in in the arguing. Eventually, the two were escorted from the hospital. Then, later, while my grandfather was at the hospital, Betty Lou called and harassed my grandmother.
Yeah, it’s really fucked up. What the hell’s up Betty Lou’s ass? I don’t see any reason why she randomly decided to go psycho on my grandfather. It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. I mean, my grandfather + saying he was tired of hearing shit about people talking about him and my grandmother behind their backs + saying he came by because he was told something about no one wanting to see my great grandfather “”Santa” from now on) just doesn’t = Betty Lou getting pissed off and going psycho. I have no idea what the hell’s up.
Who gives a shit anyway.
In other, equally distressing news, my grandfather (“Pappy” from this point onward) has to get another stint placed. He already has one in an outgoing artery, and now he needs another. He’ll be going to Pittsburgh for the surgery on June 2nd or 3rd. The fuck is up with my family and health problems?
Luckily, the doctor has prescribed new medicine to Pappy (to add to his already huge collection) that’ll allow him to be more calm and now get stressed out so easily, which is a huge factor in why he needed a stint in the first place, and another now. Besides that, he doesn’t stay away from the foods he was told to, started heavy lifting right after his last surgery despite our attempts to stop it, stress from us kids, fighting with my gram, etc.
I wish I could have more faith in the doctors of the VA, but I really can’t. I don’t care how good they may be, but the idea of Pappy going under for heart surgery again is incredibly frightening. I can’t even begin to imagine how he must feel about doing it again.
Not only that, but I’ve just entirely lost trust in VA doctors altogether, since I found out today that Don, a family friend that was something like an Uncle to me for as long as I can remember, is dead because of their inability to diagnose an illness he had.
For the past year or so, they’d been telling him he had colon cancer and that he only had a short amount of time to live. They’d been giving him radiation treatments to try and slow down the spread, to no avail. About a week ago, he’d been put on machines and his wife, Windy, and kids Mindy and Buddha were told to make the choice and pull the plug on him or not. Today, before that decision was even reached, he died.
I’m not sure of the exact details, but the doctors in the VA down there (in North Carolina) discovered that it wasn’t cancer that did him in – it was some sort of toxic poisoning that had been permeating his system for years now. Apparently, the land he and Windy lived on had toxic chemicals of some sort in it, and since Don grew and ate vegetables on said land, the chemicals got into his system. Or something like that – I’m hearing all of this fourth hand (from Windy to my Aunt Linda to my gram and then to me), so the details are probably skewed. At any rate, he didn’t have cancer – it was the chemicals that were basically eating away at him from the inside – and the radioactive treatments the VA here in PA had given had quickened the process.
Now, instead of being cremated like he wanted, Don will be given an autopsy to discover the exact cause of death.
Their [Windy and Don’s] landlady, who lives next to them, had a husband that died from “cancer” a year back as well, and she fears that it may have actually been the same thing that Don had had. She’ll be having his body dug up and examined to see if that’s the case.
It’s all so fucked up and depressing… Why does live have to suck so much lately? It’s spring, isn’t it? Shouldn’t this be the season of rebirth, not death? Fuck.
Update: Santa’s been diagnosed with cancer on his small intestine.