Got home from work about 2 hours ago. Gawd what a long ass day. I went to meet my Gram Sandra and JoJo for coffee and desert where I just had a ‘bite brownie’ with 2 cups of coffee followed by my regular timmy’s tripple tripple right before I started today. I came home and bought chicken wings from 711 and had 4. That was all I had today. I don’t feel hungry at all. I feel low and feel disconnected.
I finally wrote in my ‘actual’ journal which I hadn’t done in months. Ever since my Gramps passed away from cancer in June. I haven’t been able to. I know once I get writing, feelings and emotions will erupt. I still can’t get my Gramps out of my head during the time he was sick and writing about it seems to get it all tangled and makes it worse. Typing isn’t always the same but every now and again it is. The thing is: I chose to stay. I stayed until the end. My mom gave me that choice. And she asked me more then once. “Are you sure you want to see this? It’s going to get worse” But I said I had wanted to be there. I wanted to be there for my mom and for my Grandpa. I watched him get really sick really fast. I’ve never in my life seen someone change as much as he had in those few months. He got soooo fucking skinny. The image makes me sick thinking about it. He forgot a lot of things. Who he was, where he was, who anyone was for that matter. At times he thought he was at a ‘resort’ rather then palliative care in a hospital. Then as that time came, I chose to stay. That day was a mix of emotions. So much happened. I saw it. I saw him fade away. I saw him take his last fucking breath. That disgusting noise in his chest when he was shallowly breathing. That ‘death rattle’ as the nurses called it. He was so sedated on drugs, he wasn’t suffering so I’m happy about that. The cancer spot on his shoulder was so huge and it hurt him at times when he first got sick. He couldn’t hold onto things, couldn’t feed himself or go to the washroom no his own. He couldn’t really walk near the end of it all. His knees would buckle and give in on him, but he kept wanting to get out of bed whenever someone came to visit. When the time came, the nurses had to sedate him because he kept getting out of bed. They said it was normal, as when the body starts shutting down, it’s given this surge of energy and it can be dangerous espeicially in gramps situation where he wasn’t able to physically stand on his own. Gawd I miss him. It feels like a lifetime ago already yet it hasn’t even been 6 months. Sometimes it feels like none of it happened. I miss him though. I miss him so very much. I remember saying to myself I’d be strong when it came time to saying goodbye and I’d be there for my mom. I couldn’t have been less prepared for what came before me. Watching him give into his own death was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to see. I saw my mom bawl like I’ve never seen anyone do. I saw her climb onto Grampa’s hospital bed and lay there curled into him as his chest inflated upwards and then fell a minute or so later again. His breath was so shortnened. And each time, his breaths got further and further apart until suddenly he breathed in once more and then all was just still. It was so weird. Even typing this I have tears blurring my eyesight. The touch of his cold hand. His face that was soo cold. The color of him just minutes after he took his last breath. It scared me. His thin frail lifeless body just laying there as we all cried around him and mourned the reality of what just happened. Gawd. Why. Why cancer? Why my Grandpa? Why not me? At least I know I would have deserved it with how much karma I’ll be getting bitten on the ass with from the shit i’ve caused and done in my life. I’d be the perfect candiate to suffer in that kind of pain and sorrow. My Grandpa didn’t deserve to go out that way. Not like that. Not at all.
I need to get to bed. Tomorrow is another work day and another night of freezing my ass off waiting for busses once my shift ends. But at least I have Thursday off. So that’ll be good I guess. 🙂