Reality

New Leaf

Well-Known Member
Hello dear friends,
First of all, I want to thank you all for your kind words and prayers. I am eternally grateful for each and every one of you on this site.
It has been such a shock with my health issue and I have been through quite the emotional, physical and spiritual rollercoaster.
I am blessed to be here on this earth still.
Went to the ER 10/18 after suffering the night prior with excruciating stomach pain, thinking that I would be treated then released. Had a CT scan and was informed I had a “mass”. The word echoed through my head. “You will need to stay the night and prep for a colonoscopy, set up for tomorrow and possibly surgery afterwards.”
I was six hours in the ER and a nurse who had been there when I arrived, was back for his next shift commented to a coworker “She’s still here?” The reply “She has a mass.”
They finally wheeled me up to a room and as I left the ER, the staff peered out from their work stations and whispered that word “mass”. It was a bizarre feeling, between shock and morphine I had no chance to swallow the enormity of it. The route through the ER was like the scene from “The Green Mile” as workers popped up from their seats to see the “lady with the mass….”
Prepped all night with Metamucil, 14 doses to be exact. One has to do what one has to do.
The colonoscopy revealed a blockage and the doctor said “You need surgery”. Gulp.
So, the remainder of 10/19 is sort of a blur as I tried to prepare myself for what was in store for me that Sunday.
The surgeon came in (with cowboy boots on) and explained that he would do robotic surgery. “Sign here and here.” I remember asking him if I would end up with a bag and he said he didn’t think so.Thats pretty much the gist of what I understood about the pending “emergency surgery”. No time to contemplate, or ask for a second opinion.
Surgery, 10/20 (interestingly Tornados birthday).
It was so strange being rolled into the operating room, the machine looming above. The table they had me slide onto was much narrower than in tv shows, and sticky, like contact paper. I felt them strap my legs down, then it was lights out till I woke up in the recovery room.
“Are you in pain?” The nurse asked, I’ll give you some more medications, this is the good stuff, they don’t have this upstairs.” Fentanyl. He walked away then swung round shouting at me to breathe. As he monitored me in the recovery room, we got to chatting a bit and I found out he paddled canoe as a youngster, turned out he was one of the many kids I helped coach.
The nurses were amazingly kind and attentive, I am glad I went to a smaller hospital. My Cowboy Doctor came in and let me know that the surgery went well, the mass was isolated in my colon, no sign of cancer in my abdomen and he was able to harvest around 20 lymph nodes for pathology. “I want you up and walking” he said sternly.
So I got up and gingerly walked around the hospital floor with my iv pole, still trying to fathom what happened. Monday on a liquid diet, Tuesday, more solids, which was difficult to digest, Wednesday released home. Sunday back in the ER with infected incision.
They took out about a third of my colon. My brother told me I now have a “semicolon.”
If you have followed along this far, I apologize for the lengthy and graphic report. I suppose I am writing it out as a release, a reminder and also a warning to everyone to get your colonoscopy scheduled! Yes, it is a hassle and inconvenience, but much less so than what I, and so many others have been through.
I was late for my follow up, by about two years, time and circumstances got in the way.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
I am much better today, slowly healing and more able to care for myself and my home.
Fortunately, the pathology report revealed that I do not have to do chemo, or radiation. I will be having cat scans routinely every three months for a year, colonoscopy at the year mark, then tapering to 6 month cat scans and check ups.
It is a new beginning for me.
These last 6 weeks of recovery have been challenging. I have always been the “helper”, so being dependent on others has been a very different experience. My little sister flew over to take care of me and my home, that was an enormous blessing. My well children organized to help out as well. Tornado showed up one afternoon, then went MIA again, Rain also came over but is still out there somewhere.
Not going to lie, I have had my moments of discouragement and frustration. It will be a road to fully recover but I am determined to get back to normal, somehow.
One thing this has shown me about my two wayward daughters (again) is that no matter what is going on in my life, they will still choose as they do. I write the “again” because the same was true when my late hubs fell ill and was in and out of the hospital. Even when he passed, it was not earth shaking enough for them to stop using meth, living on the streets.
They have their lives to live, their choices to make, as do we all.
No amount of stress or worry will change that.
It is up to them to want differently. I still wrestle with all the feelings as they walk out of my door, back to their choices, but I know that I cannot house them as long as they choose as they do.
I have thrown years of my life away, desperately trying to change their course. It did not make a difference and only brought chaos to my home.
Our lives matter too.
As I recover and travel this new journey, I am reminded how precious life is, how every breath counts. I hope that my two waywards will one day see their light and choose sobriety, but that is up to them. I can only love them and turn my worries to prayers. Worrying only causes stress and anxiety which is detrimental to health and well being. Prayers work to calm my aching heart and focus on the blessings I have.
Hoping that all of us find peace within ourselves.
It is not an easy thing to achieve, but we are worth the work towards serenity. Life is too short to be continuously vexed over circumstances out of our control.
Mahalo nui loa for your well wishes and prayers.
Malama pono.

(((Hugs)))
New Leaf
 

ksm

Well-Known Member
I am so glad to hear from you and to get an update. Please take care of yourself! I have been looking for you to post and wondering if we would ever get to hear from you again. It's scary when you lose touch with a friend and wonder if they are OK. One might think that an online friendship isn't real...but it is. Missed you! Get better!

Ksm
 

MommaTried24

Active Member
New Leaf I am so happy and grateful for this update! We've all been worried about you and praying for you sister! What a relief and a blessing to know you made it through all of that and not going to have to endure chemo or radiation. God is good! Thank you for letting us know that you're ok and on the road to recovery. May God bless you with good health from this day forward.

Happy Thanksgiving!
 

Nandina

Member
Thank you so much for the update, New Leaf. What an experience! So glad the outcome was good. And I love how your story is filled with humor, although I’m sure at the time it was no laughing matter. I’m glad you had your sister and well children to care for you. Wishing you strength and good health, and once you’ve recovered, we’ll need a jungle garden update. Take good care and stay in touch with us. We care!
 

LetGo

Member
Hello dear friends,
First of all, I want to thank you all for your kind words and prayers. I am eternally grateful for each and every one of you on this site.
It has been such a shock with my health issue and I have been through quite the emotional, physical and spiritual rollercoaster.
I am blessed to be here on this earth still.
Went to the ER 10/18 after suffering the night prior with excruciating stomach pain, thinking that I would be treated then released. Had a CT scan and was informed I had a “mass”. The word echoed through my head. “You will need to stay the night and prep for a colonoscopy, set up for tomorrow and possibly surgery afterwards.”
I was six hours in the ER and a nurse who had been there when I arrived, was back for his next shift commented to a coworker “She’s still here?” The reply “She has a mass.”
They finally wheeled me up to a room and as I left the ER, the staff peered out from their work stations and whispered that word “mass”. It was a bizarre feeling, between shock and morphine I had no chance to swallow the enormity of it. The route through the ER was like the scene from “The Green Mile” as workers popped up from their seats to see the “lady with the mass….”
Prepped all night with Metamucil, 14 doses to be exact. One has to do what one has to do.
The colonoscopy revealed a blockage and the doctor said “You need surgery”. Gulp.
So, the remainder of 10/19 is sort of a blur as I tried to prepare myself for what was in store for me that Sunday.
The surgeon came in (with cowboy boots on) and explained that he would do robotic surgery. “Sign here and here.” I remember asking him if I would end up with a bag and he said he didn’t think so.Thats pretty much the gist of what I understood about the pending “emergency surgery”. No time to contemplate, or ask for a second opinion.
Surgery, 10/20 (interestingly Tornados birthday).
It was so strange being rolled into the operating room, the machine looming above. The table they had me slide onto was much narrower than in tv shows, and sticky, like contact paper. I felt them strap my legs down, then it was lights out till I woke up in the recovery room.
“Are you in pain?” The nurse asked, I’ll give you some more medications, this is the good stuff, they don’t have this upstairs.” Fentanyl. He walked away then swung round shouting at me to breathe. As he monitored me in the recovery room, we got to chatting a bit and I found out he paddled canoe as a youngster, turned out he was one of the many kids I helped coach.
The nurses were amazingly kind and attentive, I am glad I went to a smaller hospital. My Cowboy Doctor came in and let me know that the surgery went well, the mass was isolated in my colon, no sign of cancer in my abdomen and he was able to harvest around 20 lymph nodes for pathology. “I want you up and walking” he said sternly.
So I got up and gingerly walked around the hospital floor with my iv pole, still trying to fathom what happened. Monday on a liquid diet, Tuesday, more solids, which was difficult to digest, Wednesday released home. Sunday back in the ER with infected incision.
They took out about a third of my colon. My brother told me I now have a “semicolon.”
If you have followed along this far, I apologize for the lengthy and graphic report. I suppose I am writing it out as a release, a reminder and also a warning to everyone to get your colonoscopy scheduled! Yes, it is a hassle and inconvenience, but much less so than what I, and so many others have been through.
I was late for my follow up, by about two years, time and circumstances got in the way.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
I am much better today, slowly healing and more able to care for myself and my home.
Fortunately, the pathology report revealed that I do not have to do chemo, or radiation. I will be having cat scans routinely every three months for a year, colonoscopy at the year mark, then tapering to 6 month cat scans and check ups.
It is a new beginning for me.
These last 6 weeks of recovery have been challenging. I have always been the “helper”, so being dependent on others has been a very different experience. My little sister flew over to take care of me and my home, that was an enormous blessing. My well children organized to help out as well. Tornado showed up one afternoon, then went MIA again, Rain also came over but is still out there somewhere.
Not going to lie, I have had my moments of discouragement and frustration. It will be a road to fully recover but I am determined to get back to normal, somehow.
One thing this has shown me about my two wayward daughters (again) is that no matter what is going on in my life, they will still choose as they do. I write the “again” because the same was true when my late hubs fell ill and was in and out of the hospital. Even when he passed, it was not earth shaking enough for them to stop using meth, living on the streets.
They have their lives to live, their choices to make, as do we all.
No amount of stress or worry will change that.
It is up to them to want differently. I still wrestle with all the feelings as they walk out of my door, back to their choices, but I know that I cannot house them as long as they choose as they do.
I have thrown years of my life away, desperately trying to change their course. It did not make a difference and only brought chaos to my home.
Our lives matter too.
As I recover and travel this new journey, I am reminded how precious life is, how every breath counts. I hope that my two waywards will one day see their light and choose sobriety, but that is up to them. I can only love them and turn my worries to prayers. Worrying only causes stress and anxiety which is detrimental to health and well being. Prayers work to calm my aching heart and focus on the blessings I have.
Hoping that all of us find peace within ourselves.
It is not an easy thing to achieve, but we are worth the work towards serenity. Life is too short to be continuously vexed over circumstances out of our control.
Mahalo nui loa for your well wishes and prayers.
Malama pono.

(((Hugs)))
New Leaf
New Leaf, I am so glad that you got the surgery and that you are on the mend. I am also glad for you that there were others to help you out. I agree with you in that our children choose the lives they live. We ARE worth the work towards serenity. Continue taking care of you. LetGo
 

Beta

Well-Known Member
Hello dear friends,
First of all, I want to thank you all for your kind words and prayers. I am eternally grateful for each and every one of you on this site.
It has been such a shock with my health issue and I have been through quite the emotional, physical and spiritual rollercoaster.
I am blessed to be here on this earth still.
Went to the ER 10/18 after suffering the night prior with excruciating stomach pain, thinking that I would be treated then released. Had a CT scan and was informed I had a “mass”. The word echoed through my head. “You will need to stay the night and prep for a colonoscopy, set up for tomorrow and possibly surgery afterwards.”
I was six hours in the ER and a nurse who had been there when I arrived, was back for his next shift commented to a coworker “She’s still here?” The reply “She has a mass.”
They finally wheeled me up to a room and as I left the ER, the staff peered out from their work stations and whispered that word “mass”. It was a bizarre feeling, between shock and morphine I had no chance to swallow the enormity of it. The route through the ER was like the scene from “The Green Mile” as workers popped up from their seats to see the “lady with the mass….”
Prepped all night with Metamucil, 14 doses to be exact. One has to do what one has to do.
The colonoscopy revealed a blockage and the doctor said “You need surgery”. Gulp.
So, the remainder of 10/19 is sort of a blur as I tried to prepare myself for what was in store for me that Sunday.
The surgeon came in (with cowboy boots on) and explained that he would do robotic surgery. “Sign here and here.” I remember asking him if I would end up with a bag and he said he didn’t think so.Thats pretty much the gist of what I understood about the pending “emergency surgery”. No time to contemplate, or ask for a second opinion.
Surgery, 10/20 (interestingly Tornados birthday).
It was so strange being rolled into the operating room, the machine looming above. The table they had me slide onto was much narrower than in tv shows, and sticky, like contact paper. I felt them strap my legs down, then it was lights out till I woke up in the recovery room.
“Are you in pain?” The nurse asked, I’ll give you some more medications, this is the good stuff, they don’t have this upstairs.” Fentanyl. He walked away then swung round shouting at me to breathe. As he monitored me in the recovery room, we got to chatting a bit and I found out he paddled canoe as a youngster, turned out he was one of the many kids I helped coach.
The nurses were amazingly kind and attentive, I am glad I went to a smaller hospital. My Cowboy Doctor came in and let me know that the surgery went well, the mass was isolated in my colon, no sign of cancer in my abdomen and he was able to harvest around 20 lymph nodes for pathology. “I want you up and walking” he said sternly.
So I got up and gingerly walked around the hospital floor with my iv pole, still trying to fathom what happened. Monday on a liquid diet, Tuesday, more solids, which was difficult to digest, Wednesday released home. Sunday back in the ER with infected incision.
They took out about a third of my colon. My brother told me I now have a “semicolon.”
If you have followed along this far, I apologize for the lengthy and graphic report. I suppose I am writing it out as a release, a reminder and also a warning to everyone to get your colonoscopy scheduled! Yes, it is a hassle and inconvenience, but much less so than what I, and so many others have been through.
I was late for my follow up, by about two years, time and circumstances got in the way.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
I am much better today, slowly healing and more able to care for myself and my home.
Fortunately, the pathology report revealed that I do not have to do chemo, or radiation. I will be having cat scans routinely every three months for a year, colonoscopy at the year mark, then tapering to 6 month cat scans and check ups.
It is a new beginning for me.
These last 6 weeks of recovery have been challenging. I have always been the “helper”, so being dependent on others has been a very different experience. My little sister flew over to take care of me and my home, that was an enormous blessing. My well children organized to help out as well. Tornado showed up one afternoon, then went MIA again, Rain also came over but is still out there somewhere.
Not going to lie, I have had my moments of discouragemment and frustration. It will be a road to fully recover but I am determined to get back to normal, somehow.
One thing this has shown me about my two wayward daughters (again) is that no matter what is going on in my life, they will still choose as they do. I write the “again” because the same was true when my late hubs fell ill and was in and out of the hospital. Even when he passed, it was not earth shaking enough for them to stop using meth, living on the streets.
They have their lives to live, their choices to make, as do we all.
No amount of stress or worry will change that.
It is up to them to want differently. I still wrestle with all the feelings as they walk out of my door, back to their choices, but I know that I cannot house them as long as they choose as they do.
I have thrown years of my life away, desperately trying to change their course. It did not make a difference and only brought chaos to my home.
Our lives matter too.
As I recover and travel this new journey, I am reminded how precious life is, how every breath counts. I hope that my two waywards will one day see their light and choose sobriety, but that is up to them. I can only love them and turn my worries to prayers. Worrying only causes stress and anxiety which is detrimental to health and well being. Prayers work to calm my aching heart and focus on the blessings I have.
Hoping that all of us find peace within ourselves.
It is not an easy thing to achieve, but we are worth the work towards serenity. Life is too short to be continuously vexed over circumstances out of our control.
Mahalo nui loa for your well wishes and prayers.
Malama pono.

(((Hugs)))
New Leaf
New Leaf,
Wow. I am just gobsmacked at what you have been through. And, as usual, your written account is so descriptive and mesmerizing to read. I definitely wasn't bored as I read it! So don't apologize for the long account.
I'm so sorry for what you've endured and I'm glad you are recovering, albeit slowly. I laughed out loud at what your brother said (semi-colon).
The whole time I was reading it, in the back of my mind, I was thinking about Rain and Tornado and how they were affected by their mother having this close call. And my heart sank to find that they merely paused for a time, and then went right back to the lifestyle. And your perspective was so spot-on: No amount of stress and worry is going to change that, and you have a life to live that is just as important. They have to make a choice to live a different kind of life.
And yes, prayers do work to calm the anxious heart and enable us to persevere in living our lives rather than curl up in a ball and lie in bed all day. Prayer is what I turn to all the time to be able to handle the anxiety and grief that hits me. For some reason, I seem to wake up frequently at around 1 pm many nights and I think God is waking me up to pray for Josh. So I pray and most nights I go back to sleep.
I'm glad you've come through this, and I will be praying for your recovery. May God strengthen your body to heal and may your health be fully restored. May those around you care for you well and bring comfort and encouragement to your heart.
 
New leaf I have been reading your posts both past and present, and your wisdom, strength and humour brings me great comfort as I see it does for so many on here.
You mentioned your daughter’s fleeting visits, then back to ‘business as usual’ and I know what you mean, it doesn’t matter whatever else is happening, even if it’s harming the most important people in their lives, they are all too consumed with fulfilling their ‘needs’.
It sounds like you’ve been through some ordeal, but it also sounds like you’ve reached an ‘enlightenment’ and new appreciation for life….i truly hope you can hold on to this 🙏 and more importantly whilst minding yourself (this is paramount, sounds like you have neglected doing this for far too long), that you get freedom and peace for some well needed healing
 

SeekinghopeNZ

New Member
Hello dear friends,
First of all, I want to thank you all for your kind words and prayers. I am eternally grateful for each and every one of you on this site.
It has been such a shock with my health issue and I have been through quite the emotional, physical and spiritual rollercoaster.
I am blessed to be here on this earth still.
Went to the ER 10/18 after suffering the night prior with excruciating stomach pain, thinking that I would be treated then released. Had a CT scan and was informed I had a “mass”. The word echoed through my head. “You will need to stay the night and prep for a colonoscopy, set up for tomorrow and possibly surgery afterwards.”
I was six hours in the ER and a nurse who had been there when I arrived, was back for his next shift commented to a coworker “She’s still here?” The reply “She has a mass.”
They finally wheeled me up to a room and as I left the ER, the staff peered out from their work stations and whispered that word “mass”. It was a bizarre feeling, between shock and morphine I had no chance to swallow the enormity of it. The route through the ER was like the scene from “The Green Mile” as workers popped up from their seats to see the “lady with the mass….”
Prepped all night with Metamucil, 14 doses to be exact. One has to do what one has to do.
The colonoscopy revealed a blockage and the doctor said “You need surgery”. Gulp.
So, the remainder of 10/19 is sort of a blur as I tried to prepare myself for what was in store for me that Sunday.
The surgeon came in (with cowboy boots on) and explained that he would do robotic surgery. “Sign here and here.” I remember asking him if I would end up with a bag and he said he didn’t think so.Thats pretty much the gist of what I understood about the pending “emergency surgery”. No time to contemplate, or ask for a second opinion.
Surgery, 10/20 (interestingly Tornados birthday).
It was so strange being rolled into the operating room, the machine looming above. The table they had me slide onto was much narrower than in tv shows, and sticky, like contact paper. I felt them strap my legs down, then it was lights out till I woke up in the recovery room.
“Are you in pain?” The nurse asked, I’ll give you some more medications, this is the good stuff, they don’t have this upstairs.” Fentanyl. He walked away then swung round shouting at me to breathe. As he monitored me in the recovery room, we got to chatting a bit and I found out he paddled canoe as a youngster, turned out he was one of the many kids I helped coach.
The nurses were amazingly kind and attentive, I am glad I went to a smaller hospital. My Cowboy Doctor came in and let me know that the surgery went well, the mass was isolated in my colon, no sign of cancer in my abdomen and he was able to harvest around 20 lymph nodes for pathology. “I want you up and walking” he said sternly.
So I got up and gingerly walked around the hospital floor with my iv pole, still trying to fathom what happened. Monday on a liquid diet, Tuesday, more solids, which was difficult to digest, Wednesday released home. Sunday back in the ER with infected incision.
They took out about a third of my colon. My brother told me I now have a “semicolon.”
If you have followed along this far, I apologize for the lengthy and graphic report. I suppose I am writing it out as a release, a reminder and also a warning to everyone to get your colonoscopy scheduled! Yes, it is a hassle and inconvenience, but much less so than what I, and so many others have been through.
I was late for my follow up, by about two years, time and circumstances got in the way.
Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.
I am much better today, slowly healing and more able to care for myself and my home.
Fortunately, the pathology report revealed that I do not have to do chemo, or radiation. I will be having cat scans routinely every three months for a year, colonoscopy at the year mark, then tapering to 6 month cat scans and check ups.
It is a new beginning for me.
These last 6 weeks of recovery have been challenging. I have always been the “helper”, so being dependent on others has been a very different experience. My little sister flew over to take care of me and my home, that was an enormous blessing. My well children organized to help out as well. Tornado showed up one afternoon, then went MIA again, Rain also came over but is still out there somewhere.
Not going to lie, I have had my moments of discouragement and frustration. It will be a road to fully recover but I am determined to get back to normal, somehow.
One thing this has shown me about my two wayward daughters (again) is that no matter what is going on in my life, they will still choose as they do. I write the “again” because the same was true when my late hubs fell ill and was in and out of the hospital. Even when he passed, it was not earth shaking enough for them to stop using meth, living on the streets.
They have their lives to live, their choices to make, as do we all.
No amount of stress or worry will change that.
It is up to them to want differently. I still wrestle with all the feelings as they walk out of my door, back to their choices, but I know that I cannot house them as long as they choose as they do.
I have thrown years of my life away, desperately trying to change their course. It did not make a difference and only brought chaos to my home.
Our lives matter too.
As I recover and travel this new journey, I am reminded how precious life is, how every breath counts. I hope that my two waywards will one day see their light and choose sobriety, but that is up to them. I can only love them and turn my worries to prayers. Worrying only causes stress and anxiety which is detrimental to health and well being. Prayers work to calm my aching heart and focus on the blessings I have.
Hoping that all of us find peace within ourselves.
It is not an easy thing to achieve, but we are worth the work towards serenity. Life is too short to be continuously vexed over circumstances out of our control.
Mahalo nui loa for your well wishes and prayers.
Malama pono.

(((Hugs)))
New Leaf
Like many others I wondered how you were doing and it is with an uplifted heart that I hear you have come through a very difficulty time.
 

Copabanana

Well-Known Member
I don't know why I am only now seeing your update, New Leaf!! I'm sorry.
he was one of the many kids I helped coach.
This is wonderful!!
My brother told me I now have a “semicolon.”
Funny.
the pathology report revealed that I do not have to do chemo, or radiation.
What a miracle.

How are you doing? Do you have help? What a wake-up call, to "smell the roses." We don't need the grief we live. It's enough already. Too much. I am so grateful you were able be back. It's lonely without you. (No pressure.) Love, Copa
 

ButCoffeeFirst

New Member
What an ordeal!
These shocking events can prompt (more?) epiphanies. Help us value ourselves beyond our ability to save others. You wrote:
“It is not an easy thing to achieve, but we are worth the work towards serenity.”

This has stayed with me.
We ARE worth the work.
Haven’t achieved the serenity yet. I acknowledge it is a bit of a pipe dream, but every step closer is a victory.
 

Midst

Evolving
I have been absent for a bit, watching grandkids, working my jungle garden and busy with granddaughter who is in the height of her teenage years, a junior now and doing quite well in school.
Just came back from a two week visit with mom and sisters. New England in the fall is so beautiful. Mom will be 91 and has dementia and health issues, it is difficult to leave, being so far away is hard.
Dealt with an excruciating stomach flu upon coming home but feel much better. Glad I didn’t get hit on the long plane trip home.
The phone rang yesterday, Rain is back in the hospital, been there for about 5 days. She has lived on the streets addicted to meth for over ten years and it has taken its toll. I pulled myself together and went to visit. This time around it’s not the leg infection, it’s years of unchecked diabetes, high blood pressure and God only knows what else due to meth use and street life. She arrived at the hospital in kidney failure, lungs full of fluids and her heart on the cusp of failure as well. She has responded to treatment and medications, but doctor said if her kidneys don’t improve, she is looking at dialysis in a year or two. She needs to stop the meth and follow up with cardiac care. Sigh.
Rain said this health event has scared her enough to do something, but who knows? She will be released as soon as they control the fluid retention and find the right medications. Probably within the next couple of days. Her pattern has been to disappear off into the streets again and not follow through with treatment. As I write this, I am kind of in a numb state, reviewing the sad reality in my mind and trying to breath through the initial reaction of wanting to scoop her up and offer to bring her home.
That’s what any mother would do right?
That’s the harsh part of this reality, I am not just any mother. I am the mother of two meth addicted daughters who have over and again abandoned themselves and their families to meth use and street life. I am the mother of three well children and grandmother of nine, great grandmother of soon to be six. I am the grandmother of a beautiful 16 year old in my care, who deserves to live in a peaceful, secure home, as do I. I am a mother who has been there, done that with the addiction not so merry go round, the drama and trauma of it all. And still I grapple with the hard reality that I can’t bring my extremely ill first born home.

Thank you Copa. This is the reality. My daughter, if she chooses, can get a free phone, she can get help from social services, she can get free taxi rides to appointments, has state medical insurance, plus can get on SSI now that she has been diagnosed with heart and kidney disease. She can get fast tracked into medical housing for homeless in her situation. Whether or not she does this, is up to her. She is 45 years old, an adult, not a child.
On top of all of this, I just learned that Tornado, released from jail two weeks ago for probation ordered rehab, left rehab and is back on the streets. I am sad, but honestly, not surprised. It has been her pattern for six years. I told her in her last call from jail that I would not be putting money into a phone account if she ended up leaving rehab. She has a bench warrant and will eventually be picked up, as she is well known in the system. She knows the repercussions. For now, the on again off again contact, the glimpses of sobriety and the return to meth use has been an emotional yo-yo that is just.too.much. I do realize that I may change my mind about contact and that’s okay. It is the nature of this beast we deal with, addiction, sobriety, relapse and walking the thin line between loving our adult children, detachment, guarding our hearts, our sanity, our peace of mind.
As Copa said in the same post I quoted “We are not things, we are souls.”
I have long thought and written that meth is a soul snatcher. The victims are not only those addicted, but also family members who become disillusioned into thinking that sacrificing themselves will bring about change in their loved ones choices to use. It doesn’t.
Meth has ensnared my daughters and I must bolster up the strength to once again, stand firm and let God and let go. As I write this, I am also cognizant of how difficult this is.
I am extremely thankful that I am able to reach out to the kind souls here who understand all too well this journey. I have been on this path for years and have friends and family that are tired of hearing these stories. There are those who wonder why “I just won’t bring my girls home”. For those of you who have followed along, please know I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my heart and thoughts. I apologize for the “trauma dump”.
I wish we all didn’t have to carry this burden. But here we are. So, I will write this as a hope and prayer, may God watch over our wayward beloveds and give us the strength to carry on and go forth and grow with grace.
Amen.
New Leaf
Your words have given me a bit more strength to deal with the current situation with my meth addicted 35 year old daughter. I can relate to almost everything you've said. I'm 57 and my husband is 64, and we are raising my daughters baby boy since birth. He's 2 1/2 now. My husband is in remission from 3rd stage throat cancer. I just found out from a "boyfriend " of hers that she's pregnant again. She's never told me, and she's about 7 months along. My heart is breaking because we simply can't take in this one for various reasons. I feel like I have explain and justify how I'm letting my future grandchild go into fostercare. I'm doing what's right for my family. Today I am seeing a therapist for the 1st time in over 5 years that she's been out of my house and homeless. I don't even know where to begin. I know that I'll be a wreck on the inside as the birth approaches. I'm debating whether I be there for the birth and hold the baby once, or if that will just hurt even more! I go from crying to numb, to angry and disgusted with her. I love her in spite of how selfish and irresponsible she's been. She has absolutely no feelings for her son and has said that. She refused to hold him at birth. I'm really starting to think she's a physopath. She's had mental health issues before she got on meth.
 

ksm

Well-Known Member
It's so good you are going to see a therapist. We adopted our granddaughters at age 5 and 7. They went in to foster care at 3 and 5, then moved in with us a year later. Foster care will almost always start with unification...unless the parents voluntarily request to terminate their rights. This means the bio dad may want to step up. It seems like it is never a quick process.

Do you have legal custody or have adopted? Hopefully a wonderful adoptive family may step up and will "foster to adopt" the newborn. Since this child will be a sibling to your grandchild, the foster system may want to keep visitation between them as an option. And adoptive families are sometimes open to some type of contact with family members.

Please keep us updated and realize you don't have to have all the answers. It may be a year or two before final decisions are made after the baby is born.

We are raising our 4yo great grandson. And we are 69 and 80 and we have no legal custody. He's been with us for 3 years. His dad is in jail and his mom (the grand we adopted) is in a sober living facility. I know we may not live long enough to get him to adulthood...

Hugs. Ksm
 
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