Splatterblog!

I put this all here so she can peruse it once she recovers:

1 - She was seeking me out in a ruined citsyscape, and the only reason she was able to find me was because I spent my time sitting in the bathroom, banging on my kneecaps to poop.  (This isn’t as nutty as it sounds, as when I was younger, I was scared to poop…had real trouble doing it.  The whole process just confused me.  She convinced me that banging on my knees while I was on the toilet would force the poop from my system.  It worked, but it isn’t a technique I use anymore).

2 - She has spent expended much energy in the endeavor of convincing everyone who will listen that she has installed multiple zippers on herself - on her wrist, on her chest, up her urethra.  I believe she is actually referring to the IV, Chemo Port and Catheter she’s currently forced to sport.  She pretty much tried to flash me an areola and I turned my head.  I got enough of that shit when I was milking her as a child…no need to see it, thankyaverramoosh.  She states (with the utmost veracity) that she had them installed in case she needs to quickly escape her body.  If she needs to dip out, all she’s gotta do is unzip the zippers and she’ll be free.

3 - SwitzX washed her hair, that’s why it’s clean.

4 - Her brother Ricky was flying outside her window (4rth floor ICU) and crying because he didn’t want to come inside.

5 - She spent “last night” (a lot of these crazy things have always allegedly gone down the night before) cooking Australian cuisine for various members of the family.

6 -  Members of the family that live elsewhere have come to visit her.

7 - She alleges to have spent time with my deceased Grandfather (her father) and dog (Little Bear).  The dog has run off with Grandpa’s toe (grandpa underwent a procedure to have his toe removed some small time before he left this plane of existence).  Grandpa says that if she isn’t careful that she’ll be seeing much more of him.

8 - There are anti-psychotic pills stored in her pillows.

9 - ZZZZZZZZ.

10 -  She has pooped on a police officer in an airplane.

11 - A great many other things I can’t recall at the moment.

There’s an apparent precedent for alla this hoo-hah.  DEMEROL.  Various branches of my Mother’s family tree have reacted poorly to it…my Grandfather got violent, so much so that the on-call  staff were forced to shut down an entire wing of the hospital during his stay.  My Aunt Bobo, who experienced vivid hallucinations involving pieces of chalk and the trees from which they grew.  Now my Mom, who’s litany of madness can be found just above these words.  No clue why I’m just learning this info…or why no one told the Doctor.  Easy mistake to make, I guess, with all that’s been going on.  Last night the Nurse took mi Madre off demerol, to see if it or the trauma to her brain is what’s keeping her confused and ridiculous…we find out today how that all went.  My Dad is there now, I get to go back at around 8:00 tonight after I get off another extended day of work.  I look forward to learning which force is the culprit here, and I think you can imagine which one I am hoping for (PROTIP:  Drugs, not brain trauma).  I’ll send an update later.

Sorry I ain’t been posting, people!  I’ve been scanning LJ and working a whole bunch (My Bosses of course will let me off whenever I need to go see my Mother, but I still need to work extended hours to deal with the massive work issues we’ve been having).  I haven’t been able to spend much time fucking around on the internet.  I work, I go see my mom, I see Gabby for like 45 minutes and then I pass out to start the whole process over again.  Beatswamp is suffering (COHORTS:  Now would be an AMAZING time to make a couple of posts).  I’m almost thankful that MU is down (for the moment, hopefully…no clue what the deal is there).  There are tumbleweeds blowing through Splatterblog.  The lack of content in all of these spheres that involve me is frustrating, but I know I’ll get back to it when I find the time.

I decided to cancel going to the They Might Be Giants concert tonight with Steve, but he was a good dude about the whole thing.  He knows I need to go hang with my Mom whenever I can.

OOOH, One thing I haven’t put on Etherspace yet…the mass found in her brain WAS NOT MALIGNANT.  It was, like…an ann-yor-izz-um or something, potentially unrelated to her cancer.  What the fuck.  I told her to watch her ass, because there was some unseen force gunning for her.  She was all like “I know.”  Let us hope that her madness has not allowed her access to some greater truth…and, so long as we’re hoping here, that I have not been tasked with establishing a chronicle of her last days on Earth.  I don’t think I am, honestly.  She has been improving exponentially since the surgery.  She is by no means “out of the woods” as of yet (she still has cancer, and now we gotta postpone her chemo so she can recover from fucking brain surgery), but I am generally optimistic.  She’s a tough lady.  The obvious dead-center of my family.  She dodged this bullet with a haphazard grace I should have expected.

Sometime soon she will have a “shunt” installed in her body, which is a tube that runs under her skin, from brain chamber to stomach, with the express purpose of dumping all excess cranial fluid back into her digestive system.  She will be a functional cyborg for the rest of her life.  I note this fact with a detached nod to science fiction and see it as kind of awesome.