It’s been a few years since I’ve put “pen to paper”. Maybe it’s a good thing that this blog is in cyberspace, because if it were on paper, it could have been lost forever.
A lot happened since my last post, and I think it was my MI that kept me from writing.
I am still living under conditions nearly the same, however, I am no longer “homeless” by government standards. I own my own 5th wheel and 1 ton Chevy dually (that I can’t afford to drive, lol). I still live on family property, but now I care for my mom because my dad passed away. Mom is pretty independent, so really, I just assumed my dad’s role. Dad was the one who did the physical labor, which included the yard work, housework, cooking, home maintenance, etc.
Needless to say, this role is daunting, especially for someone my age and with my physical disabilities.
I took care of my dad when he had cancer. That is how I ended up back here. Yes, I actually tried to start an independent life… I moved into an apartment in Tacoma, which I shared with a male friend. It was awesome to be back in the real world, socializing and meeting new people. I had (cash) side work to supplement my Welfare. (No need to report me, folks… it was never enough to require reporting to the State. My roommate was satisfied with what I could afford to pay him.)
However, when dad was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, I knew I needed to come home. I moved back home and was sleeping on my parents couch. Our lease was up on the apartment, leaving my roommate in limbo.
That is when God stepped in, as He always has when by back is to the wall. I had been waiting nearly two years for my Social Security Disability to be approved, and had been denied twice in that time. I’d placed the appeal in the hands of an attorney but had no expectations. In God’s time, my Social Security disability was approved. Not only did my income increase six-fold, but I also got two years back pay.
The blessing from God was just enough to buy my 1991 34′ 5th wheel. Edward and I moved here and he assumed the role of my partner, helping however he could. I had a place of my own! I was excited about that, but the thrill was short lived. Dad was dying and I was the only one who really knew. I have seen death too many times and knew he was already to weak and that the type of cancer he had was serious, especially in its advanced stage.
For the next six months, I drove him to Tacoma five days a week for radiation and two days a week to chemotherapy. He may have stood a chance if we lived closer to town, but the long, long drive every day took its toll. It tool a toll on me as well, but it killed him.
When the end came, dad opted for hospice. The last two weeks (or so) were the hardest for me because dad needed 24 hour care, but there was only me. Mom couldn’t even go into his room and Edward was too sick to help (oh, right, another blind side).
Dad required medicine every two hours, then every hour. I can’t go into anymore details of his last days without breaking down… for that matter, I have forgotten (repressed) much of it because it was too painful.
I wasn’t there when he passed away. I’d finally reached the point of exhaustion and asked my sister to take over while I got some sleep. She sat by his bed for a couple hours, doing what I would do; but when she stepped out to use the bathroom, he was gone when she returned.
About Edward… he became Ill shortly after we moved here. He began a drug cocktail therapy that included weekly injections of Interferon. It wasn’t long before he was as sick as dad.
I cared for Edward as best I could, splitting my time between him, dad and all the work they would have done. All summer, I cared for both of them. Eventually, Edward’s treatments were discontinued, and he slowly began to recover (he wasn’t cured, but the treatment was killing him). Thank God. He was the one who answered the knock on the door, the one who went to verify dad was gone.
Alost two years has passed since then. That story is for another post.
homeless1wa 