Gil Buck is a prick!
I want to get this down before I forget the particulars with time... Or forget them because I was raised to keep the peace and not hold grudges against my parents. Please don't bother reading this unless you want to be angry or bored or both.
After the huge argument I had with my father on the phone Thurs night, I woke Fri knowing I had to go down to my mom's. I was still furious and not as fast in packing everything as I should have been, but I couldn't know what was to come. I stopped for a few minutes at K's work to see him for what I thought was the last time all weekend. After I saw him, I stopped at the local Starbucks to get a cup of chai and a slice of cake. I'd had nothing else besides a bowl of cereal that morning.
Traffic was awful and it took me 3 hrs to get from AV to LH. Something kept prickling against my mind about what I would find. The fact that no one would answer my phone calls at mom's contributed to this. By the time I got into the house, it was about 5:30. I let myself in the door and could hear an odd noise. I left the dogs in their crate in the dining room and went straight to her bedroom.
Mom was flat on her back, lying in her own waste because she couldn't get up. She couldn't even roll over or sit up and she'd been that way for almost 24 hrs. Her face was puffy and moon-shaped and her left hand was swollen twice it's normal size. Her right leg was an ugly bluish-purple from just below the knee down to her foot. The color got darker as it went down. Her left foot was nearly the same shade. Her right leg and foot were cold to the touch and kind of hard, but her left shin was warmer. Her breathing was labored and rattling a bit. That was the noise I heard when I came in the house. I kind of dithered around for a few minutes trying to decide if I should call 911 immediately or if I should just see if I could get her up first. Couldn't get her up except to a sitting position so I could get her changed out of her dirty clothes.
I wondered around the house for a minute to get myself to stop freaking out and noticed the discharge papers from the hosp she left the day before. Out of the 9 things listed on the back of one of the papers that indicated that one should get back to the hosp, mom had 5. That helped decide 911 was necessary even if she didn't want to go back to the hospital. I called from the den so she wouldn't hear me calling them. I was afraid she'd refuse to go or be mad at me that I'd called. I told her about the list on the discharge papers and how she had too many symptoms for me to ignore. She seemed resigned to it then and didn't complain.
It was a relief to know I wasn't going to be alone with the situation an longer. The voice on the phone was calm and that helped me to steady myself. He advised me to get her into an upright position so she could breathe better and told me that help was on the way. I managed to remember how to get her upright w/out doing all the lifting myself and she sounded a bit better. Then I told her that the ambulance was on the way and she was going to get better care than I could give. She seemed to be OK with that and I felt even more relief. This was better than me wandering around the house and whimpering to myself trying to make a decision.
Once all the EMS and FD arrived, I could finally let my guard down a bit and get a bit freaked out by it all. One of the firemen took me aside to ask about her history and what meds she was on. I told them about the previous hospitalization and how she was discharged the previous day. Then I tried to gather up her med bottles so they'd know what she was taking.
They were going to take her to St. Jude a couple of miles up the road, but I convinced them that she'd just be transferred like she was before because St J doesn't take her insurance. Since the dogs had been stuck in a tiny kennel for 4 hrs by now, I told her I'd follow once I'd let them out for a few minutes. She couldn't talk with the nebulizer tx they were doing, but she nodded that she understood.
By the time I got to the hosp, the ambulance that took her there was just leaving. I called my father's cell phone to let him know what was happening. When asked if he was going to come home now that she was back in the hosp, he informed me that he wouldn't because there wasn't anything he could do about it. No amount of arguing that I was over my head with all this would sway him. No, he wasn't coming just because she was back in the hosp. I could hear it in his voice that he didn't care about the situation and I think I hung up on him again.
Filling out the admittance papers in the ER was stressing me out, but who else was going to do it? They let me go see her once that was done and she seemed to be breathing better. Lots of lab ppl came in to do draws and the nurses were trying to take the IV out that had been left from the other hosp and start new lines. Her arms were so swollen they had a helluva time. Then another lab guy came in to get an arterial blood draw. Mom kept thanking me for coming and finding her and saving her life. That was about all she'd say. Another nurse came in and tried to get pulses with a doppler, but he couldn't find any. Then a guy came in from cardiac to try to get an arterial u/s.
During the 90 minute procedure to find arterial flow, the treating Dr came to talk to me. After taking me out to the hall, she let me know that the other hosp didn't just discharge mom. She signed herself out AMA. The Dr had all the paperwork from the previous hosp outlining what they'd done and how she left. Stunning news for me. I had no idea. Then she went on to tell me that mom had peripheral vascular disease and she was going to lose her right leg to the knee and her left foot. There was an infection (gangrene) that they had been trying to treat before and they were trying to save her feet at the other hosp but mom left. The Dr was rather brusque and matter of fact. I guess you have to be in her profession, but it was rather hard on my psyche at the time. She did try to comfort me that there was nothing I could have done and that smoking was mom's choice. Smoking was the cause and her age. The Dr went on to say her own mother was told to quit smoking or die- and she wouldn't- and she died. Then she told me that she figured mom left AMA because they told her that she would probably have to lose her feet. She wasn't going to tell mom this for fear of her leaving again. She wanted me to get with my dad and tell mom that we wanted her to have surgery so she could live. I really lost it then. I didn't know how to pull myself back together. I went to the parking lot and called my dad only to get his voicemail this time. I asked if mom having to lose her legs to gangrene was a good enough reason for him to come home in between sobbing. I added thanks for shit, asshole, for leaving me to do this by myself.
There are times I really don't want to be a grown up. If I were a child of 12, I wouldn't have to do this. I kept thinking things like that.
I figured I should get back to mom before she got suspicious. I was terrified that she was going to check herself out again. I was heartbroken that she was going to lose her leg/feet. I was completely overwhelmed and my mind was flying in thousands of directions. I got to a restroom and tried to wash my face and get myself under control. The cardiac sonographer was still working. I could see the images on the screen and the places where he marked occlusions. In only a few places did her record the pulse he found. That started freaking me out, so I told mom I was going to go get a bottle of water from my car. She had asked me if the Dr had told me bad news and I told her that she had a pretty bad infection in her foot and they still had more lab work to do. I couldn't tell her the truth.
I ran out to the car and started crying again. Completely overwhelmed. The only person I knew to call was K. I knew he'd answer since I'd already called and let him know that I'd called 911 and what I found when I got to the house. He was nearly as shocked by the news as I was and wanted to drive down then and there. The only problem was that he'd have to drive an hr to get home, get packed and then drive 2+ hrs to get to me. One of those hours would be retracing the same route he took from work and he'd done a 12 hr shift. I was under enough stress w/out having to worry about him being on the road. I just needed someone to talk to for a minute. A friendly voice to share my burden with since my father still wasn't answering his phone.
When I got back to my mom's room in the ER, the sonographer guy was still there, but he was close to being finished. The nurses were chomping at the bit to come in to put in a foley and do some other things to have her ready for the ICU since that was her next stop. Chatting with the sonographer, I learned that you have to go to a separate school from regular u/s techs to be a cardiac sonographer, and that he was a independent contractor. Once he was done, the nurses came in again to draw more blood. This time they were going to do cultures from the draw. Interesting vials for cultures. They also had to put in another line to accommodate the various IV meds.
Mom's latest RN came in to do some more chores and I talked to her about how swollen mom's hands were. esp the Lt one. She agreed that we should cut mom's rings off just in case she were to swell more. That request sent Jeff in. He gained his ring cutting skill from being in the FD. Interesting man to talk to. At least he took my mind off "things". I asked how he came to be a med asst when he used to be in the FD. He had many disappointments with the FD not hiring him when promised even though he was working for them as a volunteer. We also talked about the new stuff in CPR since he's an instructor. Nice guy and I appreciate him taking my mind off everything.
Mom went to ICU and I found another very kind nurse. She asked if I'd stay since she was waiting for the surgeon to call with further orders. I agreed since the other DR had said the surgeon would speak to me that night. By now it was nearly half past midnight and I was sooo tired. I'd had nothing to eat since that piece of cake at around 3. I helped the RN fill out more paperwork and we waited some more. By 1:30 she told me I should just go home, get some sleep and speak to the Dr in the morning. Mom was asleep by then, so I figured I should get some rest. Who knew how long I'd have to do everything myself.
I didn't sleep at all well that night. I'd stopped and got some more water, some milk and a danish at 7-11 and got to my parent's house around 2. Two bites of danish and some water and I tried to sleep. It didn't work. The dogs took quite awhile to settle down and I think I got settled at around 3. K called around 8. I'd spent the previous hour trying to convince myself I was still asleep and getting rest. All I did was lie there with my eyes closed and my brain whirling. He said he'd pack some stuff for me and come to help me.
The Dr who took over mom's care called me at about 9. He said he had seen mom at around 7 but wanted to let me sleep awhile longer. He's a very nice man. He said he'd talked to mom and she was refusing surgery. They were still treating her with two IV antibiotics and heparin to see if they could halt the progression of her PVD and gangrene. My relief that he'd talked to her about her situation and that I didn't have to felt like a betrayal. I let him know that my dad still wasn't in town and I would be there after I'd called the family.
I called my eldest niece to see if she'd call my half brother. I knew he had terminal prostate cancer, but hadn't talked to him. Mom told me last week that he was undergoing radiation and was feeling pretty bad. Poor P was shocked and incredulous that she was going to lose her dad and her grandma in the same year. P is my age. Actually, 6 mos older, but she lives in another state and has 3 kids. All I needed was for her to call him and tell him as best as she could according to her knowledge of his situation. It was only 10 min later that he called me demanding an explanation and trying to find out how to force mom to have the surgery. That was a fun conversation. I don't much like talking to him anyway, but especially not when shit's bad.
After that joy, my dad finally called. He said he didn't know she'd checked out AMA and also started clamoring to find out how to force her to have the surgery. After all he'd (not) done that weekend, that he'd the nerve to want to force his opinion on mom really pissed me off. Of course, he then said he'd be back in town by that afternoon. I got another call from the Dr after that asking me if I wanted him to call the hospice people in since mom couldn't tolerate the bypass surgery needed to restore circulation to her kidney/femoral artery, and she didn't want amputation. Her kidneys were so bad they wouldn't even tolerate an angiogram to see where the blockages were.
An hour later, the hospice lady called me to say she was on her way to the hospital. I met her at the ICU and had to read and sign the hospice paperwork, including the DNR. The Odyssey hospice lady was very nice. Yet another RN. But it was rather distressing to hear her talk to mom about everything with the paperwork. She did me a disservice in assming that we could take care of mom at home. Me living 2-3 hrs away for most of the week and my father needing joint replacements aren't really conducive to taking care of someone who can't even get out of bed. She set up a delivery of a hospital bed, oxygen collector, wheelchair and oxygen tanks. K had arrived by this time and we went to the house to wait for the delivery. It took them 3 hrs to show up instead of 2, so we had some time to talk about what'd had been going on. It was such a relief to have someone to lean on for awhile. It's amazing how much a hug can do when you're in such overload.
I had already started calling my father to ask when he was going to bother showing up. The comments I was making were definitely sarcastic and disrespectful, but I saw no reason to be respectful to him and haven't for years. I usually try to be cordial and don't add the sarcasm until he pisses me off. Of course I only got his voicemail the entire day, so I felt no need to hold back. I really enjoyed commenting on the fact that he'd promised to be back by the afternoon and how it was now evening and he was nowhere to be seen. I told him his credibility was in the toilet and he should stop making promises he wouldn't keep.
Idiot father finally showed up Sun afternoon. K was still there to show support and mom had been moved to a regular room. I mentioned to her treating Dr that I didn't live anywhere nearby and idiot father couldn't get himself around well, much less mom. Dr then worked on getting her a place in a nearby nursing home. She was transferred there in the afternoon of Sun, and we followed to settle her in. The charge nurse that day was a real Queen if you know what I mean. He was definitely funny.
I got the inflatable mattress over to the nursing facility on Mon morning. K left the night before so he could go to work on Mon. I asked mom if she wanted to see the dogs before we headed home and at first, she was excited about it. Later, she didn't want to see them. She seemed to be "checking out". Withdrawing from contact with the outside world. I asked her if she wanted the phone nearby and she said she didn't want people to call because they'd want to "talk about things". We had decided that morning that she wanted to pretend that she was there to get better and go home.
That was my weekend. I was very glad to be able to head home.
I just want to remember this for the future. So I don't let my father off the hook after time dulls the memory of being so alone when I really needed him. When he had nothing better to do than attend a Masonic seminar, or whatever it was or whoever he was with. Mom didn't mean anything and neither did I.
My therapist mentioned this week that she is going to work with me to end the abuse that is my relationship with my father. She wanted me to write a letter to him outlining all my disappointments and hurts, but I've done that for years. I never sent the letters for fear he'd be upset. I have to cut ties and stop worrying about him being upset. After all, he doesn't worry about me.
After the huge argument I had with my father on the phone Thurs night, I woke Fri knowing I had to go down to my mom's. I was still furious and not as fast in packing everything as I should have been, but I couldn't know what was to come. I stopped for a few minutes at K's work to see him for what I thought was the last time all weekend. After I saw him, I stopped at the local Starbucks to get a cup of chai and a slice of cake. I'd had nothing else besides a bowl of cereal that morning.
Traffic was awful and it took me 3 hrs to get from AV to LH. Something kept prickling against my mind about what I would find. The fact that no one would answer my phone calls at mom's contributed to this. By the time I got into the house, it was about 5:30. I let myself in the door and could hear an odd noise. I left the dogs in their crate in the dining room and went straight to her bedroom.
Mom was flat on her back, lying in her own waste because she couldn't get up. She couldn't even roll over or sit up and she'd been that way for almost 24 hrs. Her face was puffy and moon-shaped and her left hand was swollen twice it's normal size. Her right leg was an ugly bluish-purple from just below the knee down to her foot. The color got darker as it went down. Her left foot was nearly the same shade. Her right leg and foot were cold to the touch and kind of hard, but her left shin was warmer. Her breathing was labored and rattling a bit. That was the noise I heard when I came in the house. I kind of dithered around for a few minutes trying to decide if I should call 911 immediately or if I should just see if I could get her up first. Couldn't get her up except to a sitting position so I could get her changed out of her dirty clothes.
I wondered around the house for a minute to get myself to stop freaking out and noticed the discharge papers from the hosp she left the day before. Out of the 9 things listed on the back of one of the papers that indicated that one should get back to the hosp, mom had 5. That helped decide 911 was necessary even if she didn't want to go back to the hospital. I called from the den so she wouldn't hear me calling them. I was afraid she'd refuse to go or be mad at me that I'd called. I told her about the list on the discharge papers and how she had too many symptoms for me to ignore. She seemed resigned to it then and didn't complain.
It was a relief to know I wasn't going to be alone with the situation an longer. The voice on the phone was calm and that helped me to steady myself. He advised me to get her into an upright position so she could breathe better and told me that help was on the way. I managed to remember how to get her upright w/out doing all the lifting myself and she sounded a bit better. Then I told her that the ambulance was on the way and she was going to get better care than I could give. She seemed to be OK with that and I felt even more relief. This was better than me wandering around the house and whimpering to myself trying to make a decision.
Once all the EMS and FD arrived, I could finally let my guard down a bit and get a bit freaked out by it all. One of the firemen took me aside to ask about her history and what meds she was on. I told them about the previous hospitalization and how she was discharged the previous day. Then I tried to gather up her med bottles so they'd know what she was taking.
They were going to take her to St. Jude a couple of miles up the road, but I convinced them that she'd just be transferred like she was before because St J doesn't take her insurance. Since the dogs had been stuck in a tiny kennel for 4 hrs by now, I told her I'd follow once I'd let them out for a few minutes. She couldn't talk with the nebulizer tx they were doing, but she nodded that she understood.
By the time I got to the hosp, the ambulance that took her there was just leaving. I called my father's cell phone to let him know what was happening. When asked if he was going to come home now that she was back in the hosp, he informed me that he wouldn't because there wasn't anything he could do about it. No amount of arguing that I was over my head with all this would sway him. No, he wasn't coming just because she was back in the hosp. I could hear it in his voice that he didn't care about the situation and I think I hung up on him again.
Filling out the admittance papers in the ER was stressing me out, but who else was going to do it? They let me go see her once that was done and she seemed to be breathing better. Lots of lab ppl came in to do draws and the nurses were trying to take the IV out that had been left from the other hosp and start new lines. Her arms were so swollen they had a helluva time. Then another lab guy came in to get an arterial blood draw. Mom kept thanking me for coming and finding her and saving her life. That was about all she'd say. Another nurse came in and tried to get pulses with a doppler, but he couldn't find any. Then a guy came in from cardiac to try to get an arterial u/s.
During the 90 minute procedure to find arterial flow, the treating Dr came to talk to me. After taking me out to the hall, she let me know that the other hosp didn't just discharge mom. She signed herself out AMA. The Dr had all the paperwork from the previous hosp outlining what they'd done and how she left. Stunning news for me. I had no idea. Then she went on to tell me that mom had peripheral vascular disease and she was going to lose her right leg to the knee and her left foot. There was an infection (gangrene) that they had been trying to treat before and they were trying to save her feet at the other hosp but mom left. The Dr was rather brusque and matter of fact. I guess you have to be in her profession, but it was rather hard on my psyche at the time. She did try to comfort me that there was nothing I could have done and that smoking was mom's choice. Smoking was the cause and her age. The Dr went on to say her own mother was told to quit smoking or die- and she wouldn't- and she died. Then she told me that she figured mom left AMA because they told her that she would probably have to lose her feet. She wasn't going to tell mom this for fear of her leaving again. She wanted me to get with my dad and tell mom that we wanted her to have surgery so she could live. I really lost it then. I didn't know how to pull myself back together. I went to the parking lot and called my dad only to get his voicemail this time. I asked if mom having to lose her legs to gangrene was a good enough reason for him to come home in between sobbing. I added thanks for shit, asshole, for leaving me to do this by myself.
There are times I really don't want to be a grown up. If I were a child of 12, I wouldn't have to do this. I kept thinking things like that.
I figured I should get back to mom before she got suspicious. I was terrified that she was going to check herself out again. I was heartbroken that she was going to lose her leg/feet. I was completely overwhelmed and my mind was flying in thousands of directions. I got to a restroom and tried to wash my face and get myself under control. The cardiac sonographer was still working. I could see the images on the screen and the places where he marked occlusions. In only a few places did her record the pulse he found. That started freaking me out, so I told mom I was going to go get a bottle of water from my car. She had asked me if the Dr had told me bad news and I told her that she had a pretty bad infection in her foot and they still had more lab work to do. I couldn't tell her the truth.
I ran out to the car and started crying again. Completely overwhelmed. The only person I knew to call was K. I knew he'd answer since I'd already called and let him know that I'd called 911 and what I found when I got to the house. He was nearly as shocked by the news as I was and wanted to drive down then and there. The only problem was that he'd have to drive an hr to get home, get packed and then drive 2+ hrs to get to me. One of those hours would be retracing the same route he took from work and he'd done a 12 hr shift. I was under enough stress w/out having to worry about him being on the road. I just needed someone to talk to for a minute. A friendly voice to share my burden with since my father still wasn't answering his phone.
When I got back to my mom's room in the ER, the sonographer guy was still there, but he was close to being finished. The nurses were chomping at the bit to come in to put in a foley and do some other things to have her ready for the ICU since that was her next stop. Chatting with the sonographer, I learned that you have to go to a separate school from regular u/s techs to be a cardiac sonographer, and that he was a independent contractor. Once he was done, the nurses came in again to draw more blood. This time they were going to do cultures from the draw. Interesting vials for cultures. They also had to put in another line to accommodate the various IV meds.
Mom's latest RN came in to do some more chores and I talked to her about how swollen mom's hands were. esp the Lt one. She agreed that we should cut mom's rings off just in case she were to swell more. That request sent Jeff in. He gained his ring cutting skill from being in the FD. Interesting man to talk to. At least he took my mind off "things". I asked how he came to be a med asst when he used to be in the FD. He had many disappointments with the FD not hiring him when promised even though he was working for them as a volunteer. We also talked about the new stuff in CPR since he's an instructor. Nice guy and I appreciate him taking my mind off everything.
Mom went to ICU and I found another very kind nurse. She asked if I'd stay since she was waiting for the surgeon to call with further orders. I agreed since the other DR had said the surgeon would speak to me that night. By now it was nearly half past midnight and I was sooo tired. I'd had nothing to eat since that piece of cake at around 3. I helped the RN fill out more paperwork and we waited some more. By 1:30 she told me I should just go home, get some sleep and speak to the Dr in the morning. Mom was asleep by then, so I figured I should get some rest. Who knew how long I'd have to do everything myself.
I didn't sleep at all well that night. I'd stopped and got some more water, some milk and a danish at 7-11 and got to my parent's house around 2. Two bites of danish and some water and I tried to sleep. It didn't work. The dogs took quite awhile to settle down and I think I got settled at around 3. K called around 8. I'd spent the previous hour trying to convince myself I was still asleep and getting rest. All I did was lie there with my eyes closed and my brain whirling. He said he'd pack some stuff for me and come to help me.
The Dr who took over mom's care called me at about 9. He said he had seen mom at around 7 but wanted to let me sleep awhile longer. He's a very nice man. He said he'd talked to mom and she was refusing surgery. They were still treating her with two IV antibiotics and heparin to see if they could halt the progression of her PVD and gangrene. My relief that he'd talked to her about her situation and that I didn't have to felt like a betrayal. I let him know that my dad still wasn't in town and I would be there after I'd called the family.
I called my eldest niece to see if she'd call my half brother. I knew he had terminal prostate cancer, but hadn't talked to him. Mom told me last week that he was undergoing radiation and was feeling pretty bad. Poor P was shocked and incredulous that she was going to lose her dad and her grandma in the same year. P is my age. Actually, 6 mos older, but she lives in another state and has 3 kids. All I needed was for her to call him and tell him as best as she could according to her knowledge of his situation. It was only 10 min later that he called me demanding an explanation and trying to find out how to force mom to have the surgery. That was a fun conversation. I don't much like talking to him anyway, but especially not when shit's bad.
After that joy, my dad finally called. He said he didn't know she'd checked out AMA and also started clamoring to find out how to force her to have the surgery. After all he'd (not) done that weekend, that he'd the nerve to want to force his opinion on mom really pissed me off. Of course, he then said he'd be back in town by that afternoon. I got another call from the Dr after that asking me if I wanted him to call the hospice people in since mom couldn't tolerate the bypass surgery needed to restore circulation to her kidney/femoral artery, and she didn't want amputation. Her kidneys were so bad they wouldn't even tolerate an angiogram to see where the blockages were.
An hour later, the hospice lady called me to say she was on her way to the hospital. I met her at the ICU and had to read and sign the hospice paperwork, including the DNR. The Odyssey hospice lady was very nice. Yet another RN. But it was rather distressing to hear her talk to mom about everything with the paperwork. She did me a disservice in assming that we could take care of mom at home. Me living 2-3 hrs away for most of the week and my father needing joint replacements aren't really conducive to taking care of someone who can't even get out of bed. She set up a delivery of a hospital bed, oxygen collector, wheelchair and oxygen tanks. K had arrived by this time and we went to the house to wait for the delivery. It took them 3 hrs to show up instead of 2, so we had some time to talk about what'd had been going on. It was such a relief to have someone to lean on for awhile. It's amazing how much a hug can do when you're in such overload.
I had already started calling my father to ask when he was going to bother showing up. The comments I was making were definitely sarcastic and disrespectful, but I saw no reason to be respectful to him and haven't for years. I usually try to be cordial and don't add the sarcasm until he pisses me off. Of course I only got his voicemail the entire day, so I felt no need to hold back. I really enjoyed commenting on the fact that he'd promised to be back by the afternoon and how it was now evening and he was nowhere to be seen. I told him his credibility was in the toilet and he should stop making promises he wouldn't keep.
Idiot father finally showed up Sun afternoon. K was still there to show support and mom had been moved to a regular room. I mentioned to her treating Dr that I didn't live anywhere nearby and idiot father couldn't get himself around well, much less mom. Dr then worked on getting her a place in a nearby nursing home. She was transferred there in the afternoon of Sun, and we followed to settle her in. The charge nurse that day was a real Queen if you know what I mean. He was definitely funny.
I got the inflatable mattress over to the nursing facility on Mon morning. K left the night before so he could go to work on Mon. I asked mom if she wanted to see the dogs before we headed home and at first, she was excited about it. Later, she didn't want to see them. She seemed to be "checking out". Withdrawing from contact with the outside world. I asked her if she wanted the phone nearby and she said she didn't want people to call because they'd want to "talk about things". We had decided that morning that she wanted to pretend that she was there to get better and go home.
That was my weekend. I was very glad to be able to head home.
I just want to remember this for the future. So I don't let my father off the hook after time dulls the memory of being so alone when I really needed him. When he had nothing better to do than attend a Masonic seminar, or whatever it was or whoever he was with. Mom didn't mean anything and neither did I.
My therapist mentioned this week that she is going to work with me to end the abuse that is my relationship with my father. She wanted me to write a letter to him outlining all my disappointments and hurts, but I've done that for years. I never sent the letters for fear he'd be upset. I have to cut ties and stop worrying about him being upset. After all, he doesn't worry about me.