Chapter 32, 2008, When it Rains it Pours

Chapter 32, 2008, when it rains it pours
The armor starts to crack in the O'Brien Wetzel household. The last half of Katie's junior year brings with it signs of a deep depression. Her feelings of hopelessness did not manifest themselves in sadness which is what you might think you'd see. Katie's came out in anger, irritability, and emotional withdrawal from people. She dealt with a loss of interest in everything and she had trouble sleeping. Many times when young adults deal with this type of internal turmoil they self medicate with alcohol or drugs, Katie was no exception. It's an unfortunate reality that teens feel the need to partake in unhealthy extracurricular partying activities some may do it for fun but others do it to masks emotions they have trouble figuring out or dealing with. Katie never got into trouble due to drinking because it was for the most part under our radar, but she did confess to doing it to escape her feelings.
I knew she had anger issues but so does her father so I figured she just came by it naturally, like she was genetically wired for it or that it was environmental. I didn't realize it was a symptom of depression. Her anger problem seemed to get worse as she got older. One incident in particular comes to my mind. Both Alex and Katie had a friend over after school. We all sat down for a bite to eat. After our meal I left for an hour or more to meet up with a client. While I was gone Katie started making cookies for an event at school. Alex's friend wanted to eat the cookie dough but Katie said, "No." Each time Katie turned her back Alex's friend would grab a bite of the dough, Katie would then reprimand her, as this behavior went back and forth it escalated to the point of Alex's friend grabbing a huge handful of the mix and tossing it at Katie with enough force to splatter all over the kitchen, and then she took the bowl and put it under the faucet filling it with water. After that, according to Alex," The fight was on," Katie took the girl down to ground with hair, hands, arms and fists flying. Alex and Cassidy, Katie's friend, were screaming at them to stop while pulling them apart. It ended with Alex's friend running out the door and not coming back.
Although this outburst from Katie was provoked, it also proved that there was some underlying tension going on with her. That situation would have made even the mildest person angry, but letting a set of circumstances explode into physical violence is never the answer. This type of aggression was not the norm for Kate, but she feels anger and irritation more than the average person. As time went on throughout the year she began to confide in Alex her feelings of hopelessness and despair which was then communicated to me. If a teen is depressed for an extended period of time you do not mess around, you get them help before they do something drastic.
We found a nice young woman who is a local psychologist in our community for Katie to talk to. Katie, not being much of a talker was hesitant to see her at first. We went in together. The therapist talked to me first to get my take on the situation. Then, she spoke to Katie alone and finally we both went in together. The tears were flowing. Even the therapist cried hearing Katie's story, my story and our family story.
Apparently Katie's plight was brought on by the initial news of my illness, that fateful day when I was driving home from my original diagnosis and called Mike to tell him. Katie and Frankie were standing in the kitchen when he answered the phone, seeing Mike's reaction along with Frankie's and everyone else's; put her into an emotional shut down. Her plate of armor went up that day, and all emotions other than anger were going to have a hard time getting in or out. As family and friends cried Katie ran upstairs a barricaded herself in her closet. This little girl who was all of twelve years old told herself that she was going to have to be the strong one, the one to take care of everyone else.
Katie continued to see her therapist who eventually put her on anti depressants, not necessarily for life, but to get her through this difficult time. After seeing the improvements in Katie's well being we decided to see Sarah, the therapist, as a family, Alex would come only when her school schedule allowed it. When it didn't, she felt she should be conferenced in. I don't understand why therapy has a stigma attached to it. I guess it's because people are embarrassed to admit needing emotional help for fear of negative repercussions. If there is something out there that will help you make it through the day I'm all for it, providing it's healthy and positive.
Frankie Graduates from the 8th Grade
This year brings with it another milestone for one of my girls; Frankie is graduating from middle school and moving onto high school at the end of the summer. Most junior highs don't have a graduation ceremony after the eighth grade. The Catholic schools are the only ones and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because most of these kids have gone through every grade from kindergarten through eighth grade together and now they will split off into their individual choices for high school.
The ceremony is held in the church in the evening giving the students the opportunity to dress up for the occasion. They all look so grown up making me think back to the first day I saw most of them shuffling into Mrs. Conlin's kindergarten class. Frankie on the other hand was crying and trying to sprint towards the door to leave with me.
We begin this special night with Mass. During the service there are eight students who are given the opportunity to get up and read a paper they've written about the years spent at St. Jude school and what it has meant to them. Frankie has the privilege of being one of those students. This is an opportunity she begged and campaigned for in part because her sister Alex was able to read her own paper and Frankie was inspired to do the same when her time came.
Some of Frankie's classmates felt that she was given this chance because she persisted in begging her teacher. Frankie can be tenacious, to say the least, when she wants something. She is not a kid that is terribly focused; her grades throughout her school career have been erratic in part because she is not organized and loses assignments or forgets to hand them in. She can be disruptive in class because she likes to make people laugh, some teachers love her some don't exactly appreciate her antics. I would not go out on a limb and say that she is your typical model student.
Her speech on the other hand was well written and well executed other than choking up when she got to the part where she talked about my illness. The moment was extremely emotional. I could barely look up while listening to her muffled sobs. Thankfully a classmate came to her rescue with a Kleenex and she was able to complete her delivery. It was a proud moment for me and Mike. Her skeptical classmates even praised her for a job well done. After graduation we progressed to the school for refreshments, casual, reminiscent conversation and pictures. Again I find myself full of gratitude for this precious time.
My Little Sister has Breast Cancer
Three days before the celebration of my 5th anniversary of life I find out that my younger sister Mary has breast cancer. Mary is the sister that lost her husband twelve years ago to lung cancer. This is a sad day. It is hard to believe that another family member has been struck with this rotten disease. Fortunately Mary's cancer was found early. The disease had progressed to stage one; there were no lymph nodes involved which enabled her to get a lumpectomy. Chemotherapy proved to be a difficult challenge for Mary as it does for everyone, but she got through it without too much trouble.
She was a real trouper in the wig department. According to everyone the wig she picked out looked really great on her. If she was at a family function and got tired of wearing it she'd simply take it off. One day she got her head a little too close to an open, hot oven singeing her bangs. The lesson learned here; keep your head away from a hot oven while wearing a wig, or don't cook. After her therapy treatments were complete she had 6 weeks of radiation taking place Monday Through Friday on a daily basis. When it was all done she, along with everyone in our family and hers, was relieved. Mary was ready to move on to a healthier stage of life.
My Five Year Anniversary
There are many reasons to celebrate today. It has now been five years since my two year prognosis, the drug company is still making the clinical trial drug just for me, I feel ok for about two and a half weeks in between chemo sessions and my sister Mary is doing well. The menu of KFC and beer remains the same for everyone who attends. Each year we add something new and different to the menu. We start the meal out giving thanks for my continued existence as well as Mary's health. The evening on the deck is beautiful with the warm sun cooling as we head into dusk. The flowers and trees smell sweet and fresh as we all relax into familiar conversation until the sun sets. The feeling from all of us is appreciation.
Frankie starts High School
Frankie's 9th grade year didn't turn out exactly as she would have liked. As a matter of fact she describes it as her fifth grade nightmare all over again, only worse. There were issues with boys, one boy in particular they dated for a nanosecond, but broke up just as the year was starting. Let's just say that Frankie has an extremely difficult time letting people go from her life, whether they are worth keeping or not. She pined over the kid for most of the year. If she's not ready to let a person go she will fight for them whether they want her to or not. I guess living with a sick mom in a precarious state of existence has manifested her feelings into separation issues. For example, still at the age of fourteen, before she leaves she has to kiss and hug me a thousand times. She is warm and overly affectionate, either touching, hugging or her personal favorite pinching grabbing or spanking people on the butt. This includes sisters, parents, girls, boys, she doesn't discriminate.
Entering a new school brings with it jockeying for a place to fit, kind of like musical chairs, either you have a place to sit or you're out of the game. Frankie found herself out of the loop on more than one occasion. My youngest daughter can be described as a conundrum. She can be hysterically funny, but takes it too far on occasion. In some aspects she has a high maturity level, but then she can act younger than her age. There is a boy in her study hall who rides her hard with verbal abuse. She finally told him that the only reason he was cruel to her was because he was so unhappy with his own life. This is an insightful and courageous reaction to bullying. On the other hand, another kid called her a name and her response to him was, "Oh Yea, well you look like a bat." Apparently he had little eyes and big ears.
Frankie has taught me about forgiveness. She is unable to hold a grudge, unlike her Irish mother. Even if a person has been awful to her, and believe me they have, she will eventually pardon their bad behavior because if she doesn't let it go she's miserable. She gets this wonderful trait from her father.
She's had trials and tribulations with girls. Frankie isn't your typical demure young lady, she has a temper, she's bold, loud, her laugh booms through a room. She is flirtatious with boys, this bothers other girls, she gets along with the opposite sex better than her own because she acts like a boy, she can be crude, and basically she'll do almost anything for a laugh, but most importantly she has a big warm heart. She doesn't care what people think of her. And, she loves to be the center of attention. If there is a picture being taken, Frankie will find a way to be up front and center. Whenever her two older sisters want a picture with just the two of them, we inevitably see Frankie in the finished product; like her face peeking through at their waist, perhaps we'll see her off in the background jumping giving the peace sign or making a funny face. It's like where is Waldo only with Frankie. This child is loveable and exasperating at the same time. Girls and boys either like her or they don't. There isn't much of a middle ground.
Academically Frankie is still struggling. She is not stupid; in fact her grades have gone from A's to F's her entire school career mainly because she'd fail to hand something in, or she would lose an assignment. On many occasions we would work on organizing her life to no avail. Within a month or so she'd be back to forgetting assignments. We were at a loss to help her. Frustrations would run high when it came to school work.
There were also issues with mess. Her locker looked like a bomb went off in it. The state of her room was utter chaos. Anywhere Frankie went there'd be a trail of minor destruction. She was at a friend's house changing for a swim party and left their bathroom in total disarray. I only know this because the mother told me. It is one thing to leave your own house a mess but entirely unacceptable to leave another person's home a disaster area.
A bright spot is that she tried out for volleyball and made the freshman team. She hasn't played this sport for a few years so she is excited just to be part of it. Frankie is a good athlete; she was a gymnast for ten years and did well at the sport. Gymnastics is an excellent base activity for many other sports. It helps with coordination and you gain mental and physical strength. Their team did ok as did Frankie. She'd have great plays coupled with "what was that?" plays, not unlike her academic career.
We are learning that Frankie has problems with focusing. There are few things that can hold her attention for extended periods of time. This coupled with social issues and impulsive behavior, like biting a male classmate in the finger because he kept putting it in her face, gets her into trouble either with peers, teachers or parents. When all of these things escalated to a fever pitch we sought help from our family psychologist, Sarah, to get her tested for an attention disorder. She ended up going on a low dose of medication to improve focus and another medication for anxiety. Within a short period of time her grades improved, she became more organized and her impetuous behavior improved a little.
Apparently I do drink
I'm sure Mike would agree that we don't have much of social life anymore, not that we ever did, but now it's worse with treatment schedules, etc. Basically I am not that fun of a person. When Mike and I first married we went out more. However, I'd be the first guest wanting to leave a party and if he had his way he'd be the last to leave. When the kids came along it was me getting up early in the morning after a night out and Mike would sleep until noon. Being hung over while caring for young children does not mix.
If we are lucky we go out four times a year. I plan it around my chemo schedule so I feel well enough to enjoy myself. There is one couple, Eric and Debbie, who invite us to their home for delicious meals. She is a Martha Stewart cook and I'm not, when we suggest going out it is at a restaurant. My friend Cindy makes fabulous Iranian food for special occasions, we may partake in their family functions every so often. My friend Sue and her husband Steve are definitely restaurant people, we may go out with them a few times a year as well. And on occasion we see Mike's friends from college, that's about the extent of our social life other than seeing and talking to other parents at the kid's sporting events.
One evening we went out for dinner with Sue and Steve to a nice restaurant with a beautiful view of the lake, it was a warm, fall evening, the food was good the conversation was fun and I felt almost normal. Perhaps this is why I drank more than usual. I've always been a cheap date, one to two glasses is generally my limit, because I can't handle more than that, but this particular evening I wasn't paying attention to how much I was drinking. When I stood up to leave I felt a little tipsy. We got in our cars and I leaned way out of the open car window waving farewell to Sue and Steve as they burst into laughter over my behavior. When we got home Katie was awake, I sat down on her bed and she said, "Oh my God you're drunk." I laughed so hard I fell off the bed and hurt my back. I guess that will teach me to imbibe too much. I must say, it was worth it.
The next day Katie had a volleyball tournament a few hours away. She told her whole team as well as the coach about my antics from the night before. Those Wetzel girls have big mouths; they must get it from their mother. My back hurt and I was hung over but I forgot about my pain when I started watching Katie in her game. I think it was the highlight of her high school career. That kid was all over the court that day passing the ball with skill. My pride for her masked my throbbing head and aching back. It was a great day! I loved every minute of it.

Dick goes into the hospital
I took my Father-in-law in for a hernia surgery today, a fairly simple surgery with a short hospital stay for most. Dick is 76 years old and in poor health. He is overweight with poor lung capacity. Walking from the car to the house leaves him feeling winded. This hernia is causing him a great deal of discomfort. Every time he moves he winces in pain. The thought of surgery makes him nervous but dealing with the soreness is too unbearable. We sit and chat until they call him in. Once he has changed and been prepped for surgery I leave for work and Mike comes in to wait until he is done.
The operation was not a success! The doctor said that once they opened him up they found the intestine was being strangulated and it was more of a challenge than originally thought to repair the hernia. Because of Dick's lung issues, they had to vent him to get the job done. He was taken to the ICU after surgery. The physician explained that they would have to leave him on the vent until he could breathe on his own. The vent is a machine attached to a large tube which carries oxygen through it. The tube is run through his mouth down his throat to bring oxygen to the lungs and the rest of the vital organs. He was given a strong medication to keep him sedated so he wouldn't pull the tube out of his mouth. The discomfort would be unbearable if he were awake. They explained that they would slowly try to wean him off the machine until he could breathe on his own. We could talk to him but of course there was no response. The Surgeon did not give us much hope. In his mind there was a very small chance that Dick would ever be strong enough to get off this breathing machine. We were all in shock. How could he go in for this minor surgery and die from it? Dick's regular physician came in the next morning and gave us more hope, but the situation was grave.
Mike's only sibling Bob was called; he lives in Oklahoma, to see his father just in case something tragic happens. Dick is single and doesn't have much family left other than a cousin so there weren't many people to call. Bob stayed for several days but had to get back to work and his life. His Dad opened his eyes a few times but we weren't sure if he could understand anything we were saying. Alex came home from college with her boyfriend Stephen when she could, but she was a few hours away and busy with school. Mike and I took turns sitting with him even though he wasn't aware. Between the two of us we were at the hospital two to four times a day. After a month we were both feeling exhausted and stressed. We didn't take much time off of work or school. It became challenging just to keep up with hospital visits along with everyday activities. His hospital stay was during the holidays this coupled with my chemo schedule brought the stress level to an all time high.
All of this proved to be too much for me and my medical timetable. Dr. Bud, upon my request, took me off the Neulasta, the immune enhancing shot administered every three weeks after chemo. The negative side effects of the Neulasta kept my chemo on schedule by bringing my white blood counts up to a point where I could handle the therapy but it also made me very sick. Additionally Dr. Bud changed my chemo calendar to every four weeks instead of every three which gives me a little more time in between therapies to feel good. Right now this is what I need.
After three weeks in the ICU a tracheotomy was performed on Dick. This way he could have the tube run through a hole in his neck rather than his mouth. The sedation medication went to a lower dose but he still could not talk. He opened his eyes here and there but there was no major communication. After five weeks Dick was moved to a step down facility which was further away. This would be where we would spend our Christmas. The girls had a difficult time seeing their grandfather in this condition, especially Frankie. She is deathly afraid of hospitals, too many bad memories of me being in one. They didn't like visiting, but they went because they loved their Grandpa. Neither did I, but I didn't want him left alone. Because this facility was less convenient in regard to distance, Mike and I would take turns going out for visits. I would go in the morning and Mike would go at night. On the weekends we would go together and bring the girls. At this facility they tried weaning him off the vent more vigorously. There were times he could talk, but it took a great deal of energy to do so. He had some real moments of clarity there especially at Christmas time, but they didn't last and he would be put back on the vent.
He was able to complain. He said the nurses paid him no attention until we were there, it was only then that they acted like they cared or came to see what he wanted. Every patient in this place was on a vent. If they were not being cared for properly no one would know because most of them couldn't talk. I witnessed an orderly changing a frail old woman's bed and he was moving the poor thing around like a rag doll. I did complain about that to the nursing staff.
It takes a special person to be good at this type of job. The patients constantly lose their bowels in the beds because they are immobile. Just a few days of that type of work would send most people running away. It was extremely difficult to see Mike's Dad spend his days in this condition. On the drive home I'd call my mom and dad to talk or tell them Dick's health news and one day my own father said, "If I end up like that I hope one of my children has the god damn sense to blow my head off. After seeing Dick day in and day out languishing away like that I have to agree with my dad. I wouldn't want my head blown off, but I wouldn't want to spend my last days like that either.
Christmas 2008 has come and gone. Dick seems no better. One nurse, in confidence, suggested we take him off the vent. He'd seen enough of these cases to know that Dick would never be free of this machine. The Doctors are not concurring with the nurse's opinion. Time will tell, for now there is still a small glimmer of hope and Mike wants to wait and see what happens. Mike and Bob will make this decision together sometime in the near future.
Advice
A negative situation can be a motivating factor to stay on this earth a little longer. When I see my kids in trouble I want to stick around to see them come out of it with flying colors.
When life and problems get to be too overwhelming sit back and think of what is best for you. Stress can put you in harm's way. Consider yourself. Do what is best for you.
Continue to focus on the good in life especially when the sky seems to be falling.
Sometimes you just have to get drunk, or do something that brings you to a happier time in life! I don't recommend it on a steady basis, but every once in a while it's good therapy.