Prismatic edges

This week was such a tough week. As usual, I was not admitting it to myself. I was giving myself pep talks, thinking that some people have it really much worse, and taking deep breaths to hold everything together. 

And then, one evening, after I finished downloading to my support system, I started to experience this weird eye problem where I had blurry circles in my vision. They were surrounded by prismatic colored edges. Outside the blurry spots, sight was good. So, I diagnosed myself with dirty glasses - cleaned my glasses - and I went upstairs to make some headway on an architecture project at my computer. And you know what - I couldn't see around those darn blurry spots in my vision! After about 5 minutes, I started to get a little panicked - but then rediagnosed myself with stress related vision problems, laid down (- could still see the prismatic edges of the blurry spots with my eyes closed!-) but within about 20 minutes the blurry spots were gone. 

I have to tell you: it scared me. And it really makes me think. I just need an outlet for everything that is going on lately. I've been so hesitant to blog over the last 5 years! It's good therapy for me, but my life is so entangled with the lives of so many other people! Also, there's this lopsided aspect to blogging where you feel like you talk and talk, and nobody talks back, until one day when someone you never hear from - but who has been reading your blog - suddenly enters your life with all sorts of "wisdom" and you think, wait a minute....I'm not sure how I feel about your expertise on my life based on my blog...also, why am I the only one sharing? 

Another stumbling block: how can I say what I want to say here without upsetting or betraying others?

...Well, after my blurry spots with prismatic edges, I do believe I will go ahead and share for a little while. It will be therapeutic, until it is not. And then I will stop sharing. Also, some of the major players in my life right now are really unlikely to read this blog, so I will take a calculated risk that they don't visit. 

Back to this week. So, this week, as many weeks, the drama seems to revolve around my aunt, who was diagnosed with ALS about 19 months ago. ALS is a progressive, terminal, neuromuscular diagnosis with a typical 2-5 year prognosis. To catch you up, as quickly as possible, I should mention the following facts: she lives within about 30 minutes of us. Her husband passed away about 6 years ago and she has no children. She lives by herself. It is her profound wish to remain living in her house and die at home. This last fact cannot really be overstated. It is so thoroughly embedded in her (professional and) personal identity over the decades that any suggestion of anything else will get the suggestion-maker weeks of cold-shoulder treatment. This fact also drives every decision that gets made, as we all do ludicrous gymnastics to honor and respect this wish. And I would LIKE to say that she is very thankful for all our help. But she is NOT particularly grateful; mostly, she is angry. And she behaves as though we are the bad actors in her losses to ALS.

This week, she had an appointment with a cardiologist. She has had some heart trouble in the past. A few months ago her pulse started racing, as it has before: atypical atrial flutter. Interestingly, with this flutter, she experiences almost none of the symptoms that others would experience, like, say, shortness of breath. And she is constantly seeing doctors for the ALS, so: going to the cardiologist was a mosey-on-down-to-the-cardiologist type affair.  Well. It is actually is not much of a mosey these days; she needs a wheelchair to go anywhere and transferring (between, say, the car and the wheelchair, requires me to lift her feet and place her hand on the hand holds and perhaps lift her a bit by the hips.... You know, really, the moseying was our attitude. And it turned out to be a pretty fake attitude BECAUSE:

On the way to the cardiologist, she informed me that a mammogram and ultrasound scan that had been done last week showed carcinoma with some abnormal lymph nodes. This was not totally unexpected (the ultrasound and mammogram had been done for a reason), BUT if you are on the way to a cardiologist with your neurologically compromised aunt and you find out she has metastasized cancer, it feels like a Bit Of A Thing.

The cardiologist, unsurprisingly, suggested that we do nothing for at the flutter. Any option for treatment would include anesthesia, which is highly risky given her state.

It works this way, right?  For most of us: our bodies fail at the end of life and diseases snow ball. It can feel like a lot to people on the outside (like me); but imagine how it must feel to the person themselves? Well, one really can't imagine.