bad week
This has been such a bad week. I've been a complete wreck the whole time. I keep finding myself curled up in a ball on my bed, and so sad. So torn up. I hate this. I know a big part of this has to be PMSing, which so fucking sucks. Of all the weeks, this is the one I would have liked and needed to have a bitchy one, where I give my opinions out freely, the hell with what other people think and say. But no, I need to have a depressing emotional one, where I alternate between wanting to curl up in bed and never leave, hating everything, and wanting to throw things.
My grandfather just got released from the hospital last night and is going back on Monday to have another surgery. Dr. Venu is performing the needle knife surgery to open up his esophagus and remove the scar tissue so he can eat again. I was so happy, so excited. And God, he was too. Is. This is a man who LOVES to eat. he got such pleasure and delight out of food. And when mom asked what his first thing to eat was going to be, he thought about it, and said macaroni and cheese. And he was going to come out to visit and they were going to get food from our new Thai restaurant and he was going to split Thai fried rice with Josh and maybe have a little egg roll.
Mom talked to our friend Jill today, who's an SLP. She said that since Po's esophagus isn't like ours (his had to be removed with the cancer, and what he has now is part of his stomach), it doesn't have the swallowing abilities. So all he'll really be able to do is have a little bit of solids all chopped and mushed up tiny, and then lots of liquids. Or just liquids. And I don't think he knows that. I think he's expecting to eat again before he dies (right now he can't even swallow saliva), and I don't think he's going to be able to, and I am so upset. And I know, PMS, but this is so fucking not fair. I don't know why this had to happen to him. I just feel so sick. He doesn't deserve this, damn it. All these disappointments. I hate everything about cancer.
I am feeling so damned irrational tonight, and like such an idiot. Nothing makes sense. I've got to get out of this funk, get some energy back, get some postiveness back. I hate feeling like this, so hopeless and lost and alone. I hope things get better soon. Then maybe I can start looking at things objectively. I was doing better this afternoon, when I was cooking lunch and blaring Forrest Gump, but then it went back downhill. I don't know. Guess I better just go before I either burst into tears (again) or start swearing every other word in utter frustration.