My father's dying from multimyeloma. We were told years, then a year, then
maybe tonight, then months, and now we're back to a year and a half.

Barb, a CNA informed me that no one uses hmidified oxygen anymore. The
hospice worker told my mother that Daddy didn't really have epilepsy, just
low potassium, and if he ate more bananas, he could stop taking his
Zonegran. Which he shouldn't be one anyway because he has no appetite in the
first place, and whenever I try to point out medical inconsistency-crap like
this I get poo-pooed, so I just go behind my sisters' and mother's backs and
call the doc to get it taken care of, and then they get huffy with me
because I "treat us like idiots".

My brother has now gone off all his antiseizure meds, and is eating bananas.
I told the CNA that I had never heard of hypokalemia causing seizures and
she informed me (in a very superior tone) that I was correct, but that low
potassium would. That's the last conversation I had with her. I haven't seen
her since I called the doctor and screamed for 20 minutes. Hopefully, the
hospice service understands not to send her back.

If you're up for helping me kidnap Daddy and run off to some peaceful place,
you just let me know.

Of course he'd want to take my mother. And all his other little girls and
boy.

Actually I think a concentrated supply of valium planted in everyone's
morning coffee would do a world of good.

And on top of that, my mother keeps wanting me to leave two of my sons, who
are the apple of their eye (all my bosy are, but my 17yo landed a dream job
this summer, and my father won't even listen to the possibility of him not
taking it) up there (we live about 50 miles away). I can't. Daddy keeps
having crisis after crisis, and I refuse to have my sons spread out. If
something happens my boys need to be all together.

Kirby cannot be there all by himself. My oldest has a job this summer, and I
can't leave him alone here in case something happens.

We tried to move in with them, but my mother is insisting they want to be by
themselves. The Hospice counselor, said if I push it, it'll just cause hard
feelings, and my mother has to learn that she can't do this by herself. When
it gets to a certain point, Hospice will tell her that it's let us (family)
help or they'll put him in a nursing home.

He's my father, and I would move in in a heartbeat, BUT my boys are not
going to be his caretakers. I will, my sister's and my brother will, but my
10yo, 15yo and 17yo are not! They will be with him and hold him and snuggle
with him and share stories and everything else his soul needs, but they are
not doing the yucky stuff. He has four children, who are more than willing
to do this for our daddy. I don't know why my mother is being so bizarre
about this.

AND, it has been so, so long since I've had a cluster. It is my hope that
whoever is in charge of these things will hold off on them until this is all
over, because I don't think I can hold this all together in the midst of
one.

And I cry. I've always cried. Anything can set me off. A box of puppies for
sale, a sad song, movies, TV commercials. I have always been like this. Of
course now it's 100 times worse, which is fine. Everybody knows this about
me, and generally just react with eye rolls and teasing, but my one sister
is going ballistic over the fact that I'm crying in front of my father. I
don't think it bothers him. He knows me. She thinks I should leave the room.
I think he likes hugging me and calling me a big baby.

Are you sorry you asked yet? Hopefully the rants will be out of my system
soon. If not, feel free to skip.