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May. 10th, 2004 05:06 pmI brought up some topics with my mother this afternoon that had never been pushed into light until now.
Specifically, the very real possibility that she could die in the near future and what will happen to my brother and I in the course of that event. It stemmed out of a visit to the oncologist today, where I finally straight out asked the doctor for a prognosis.
Without treatment, a handful of months.
With treatment, possibly years.
Nice broad range, right?
I handled things rather well, all things considered. I didn't get weepy, for one thing. And we discussed things for a brief period of time. I think I surprised the doctor with busting out with that particular question, but we need to be aware of these kinds of things. Now is the time to prepare for what may come sooner then we'd like.
I know she didn't take it very well, hearing it. But, I think it may be pushing her into accepting this more. Up until now, it doesn't appear to have sunk in very far. She knows she's sick, but she continually blames her various ailments on the different medications the doctors prescribe her. And while I'm sure that a slew of antibiotics isn't exactly making her want to jump up and dance a foxtrot (if she were so inclined), I also don't think that it is the sole cause of every woe. The doctor agrees with me on this, as he damn well should.
So, driving home from the appointment, I decided to just jump full into the water and bring up the subject of what's going to happen to my brother and I when she goes. We're certainly going to be unable to afford this apartment without her contributing portion. And it needs to be put into writing who gets what, just so neither of us get accused by any locusts descending on the funeral party that we're keeping things that should rightfully be theirs.
I managed to convince her that despite the fact she doesn't have any big money holdings, she does indeed need to write a will. Even if it's just scribbled on a piece of paper and notarized by Rowan. There needs to be one. End of story. I will absolutely NOT deal with a bunch of squabbling relatives.
I also managed to convince her that she, my brother, and I need to sit down and discuss what is going on. In great detail. We also need to discuss the state of our affairs, meaning the money situation and the bills she has in her name. Everything needs to be rounded up and organized into something resembling order. Even if she lives for another five to ten years, this still needs to be done NOW. I do not wish to be blindsided by any of this at any point. And since I'm the unlucky offspring who was chosen to handle all of her business, it will indeed be me who gets smacked in the face with the bill collector stick.
She asked me if I wanted my older sibling at this meeting and after a few minutes thought, I told her he is welcome to come if she wishes it and if he would like to be involved. She also started to give me a little speech about how she's telling me this now and I can tell the other two whenever I want, but when she does die, her brother and his family are not welcome at the funeral or any other service involved. I cut her off mid-way through the first couple words and let her know that I had made this decision weeks ago. Those people have made it abundantly clear that they do not wish to be part of this family anymore and I am more then happy to oblige them. They can find out about her death through the goddamn obituaries, for all I care. If I even decide to post an obituary. I still haven't decided about that. But, if they do find out and they do show up, they will be asked to leave. And not by me. Because if I do it, there's going to be bloodshed.
At one point riding home, she says: "I'm not ready for this."
"Ready for what, Mom?"
"I'm not ready to die."
And for the first time in months, I heard a bit of her old strength creep back into her voice. It was only there for that moment, but it made me smile and gave me a small spark of hope all the same.
I'm going to clutch that little spark to me in the months to come.
It's going to be very badly needed, because she's not the only one who's not ready for this.
Specifically, the very real possibility that she could die in the near future and what will happen to my brother and I in the course of that event. It stemmed out of a visit to the oncologist today, where I finally straight out asked the doctor for a prognosis.
Without treatment, a handful of months.
With treatment, possibly years.
Nice broad range, right?
I handled things rather well, all things considered. I didn't get weepy, for one thing. And we discussed things for a brief period of time. I think I surprised the doctor with busting out with that particular question, but we need to be aware of these kinds of things. Now is the time to prepare for what may come sooner then we'd like.
I know she didn't take it very well, hearing it. But, I think it may be pushing her into accepting this more. Up until now, it doesn't appear to have sunk in very far. She knows she's sick, but she continually blames her various ailments on the different medications the doctors prescribe her. And while I'm sure that a slew of antibiotics isn't exactly making her want to jump up and dance a foxtrot (if she were so inclined), I also don't think that it is the sole cause of every woe. The doctor agrees with me on this, as he damn well should.
So, driving home from the appointment, I decided to just jump full into the water and bring up the subject of what's going to happen to my brother and I when she goes. We're certainly going to be unable to afford this apartment without her contributing portion. And it needs to be put into writing who gets what, just so neither of us get accused by any locusts descending on the funeral party that we're keeping things that should rightfully be theirs.
I managed to convince her that despite the fact she doesn't have any big money holdings, she does indeed need to write a will. Even if it's just scribbled on a piece of paper and notarized by Rowan. There needs to be one. End of story. I will absolutely NOT deal with a bunch of squabbling relatives.
I also managed to convince her that she, my brother, and I need to sit down and discuss what is going on. In great detail. We also need to discuss the state of our affairs, meaning the money situation and the bills she has in her name. Everything needs to be rounded up and organized into something resembling order. Even if she lives for another five to ten years, this still needs to be done NOW. I do not wish to be blindsided by any of this at any point. And since I'm the unlucky offspring who was chosen to handle all of her business, it will indeed be me who gets smacked in the face with the bill collector stick.
She asked me if I wanted my older sibling at this meeting and after a few minutes thought, I told her he is welcome to come if she wishes it and if he would like to be involved. She also started to give me a little speech about how she's telling me this now and I can tell the other two whenever I want, but when she does die, her brother and his family are not welcome at the funeral or any other service involved. I cut her off mid-way through the first couple words and let her know that I had made this decision weeks ago. Those people have made it abundantly clear that they do not wish to be part of this family anymore and I am more then happy to oblige them. They can find out about her death through the goddamn obituaries, for all I care. If I even decide to post an obituary. I still haven't decided about that. But, if they do find out and they do show up, they will be asked to leave. And not by me. Because if I do it, there's going to be bloodshed.
At one point riding home, she says: "I'm not ready for this."
"Ready for what, Mom?"
"I'm not ready to die."
And for the first time in months, I heard a bit of her old strength creep back into her voice. It was only there for that moment, but it made me smile and gave me a small spark of hope all the same.
I'm going to clutch that little spark to me in the months to come.
It's going to be very badly needed, because she's not the only one who's not ready for this.
