It Ain't Happenin'

Well, it's No Whining Wednesday again. Helllllooooo! I know as a rule Wednesday follows Tuesday and so I really have no cause to complain but I've gotta say, Wednesday, you picked a hell of a day.

I told you a couple of weeks ago about my Auntie. Well, she was only one half of the fantastic whole that filled the void where grandparents on my Mom's side should have been (I do have a grandmother, but hers is a story better left untold). The other half is my Uncle, of course. We're going to call him Mad Max, not because he is in anyway like the character Mel Gibson portrayed all those years ago, but because it's an awesome name and he is an awesome dude and so that makes it all work in my mind. Don't question it.

Mad Max was diagnosed with Alzheimer's yesterday.

I'm not taking it so well.

I haven't done any research yet, so I'll have to beg your forgiveness if I make an erroneous statement.

I realize that Alzheimer's is a condition that worsens over time. Mad Max for the most part still has his wits about him and with medication, probably will for some time. He's 76 (I think) and so it is probably time I prepare to face his mortality anyway. But that's just it. Auntie and Mad Max were such an incredible influence in my life. I have yet to be able to face the fact that neither of them is likely to live forever without breaking down into tears. At just the thought of their eventual passing I'm a snotfaced, bleary-eyed mess.

To be honest, I should be better armed against this eventuality. Auntie has suffered from Scoliosis her entire life. As she ages it becomes increasingly worse. Where she used to be mobile and independent, she is now confined to a wheelchair and is entirely dependant on Mad Max to do most of the cooking, cleaning, shopping and so on. She also has a nurse come in regularly to help with the things my Uncle cannot. Her condition continues to worsen with age. Eventually, her spine will twist so much it will crush her internal organs. I know this. I haven't accepted it. I can't, I don't know how. And I don't know why that should be.

Now to add insult to injury, Mad Max is sick. If he worsens to the point of needing round the clock care and is put in a home, then Auntie will have to go to one too. I can't begin to tell how many different ways that sucks ass. These two deserve so much more.

It breaks my heart to know that Mad Max will digress daily to eventually become a measure of the man he once was, possibly not even that. That I am here in Nova Scotia and he is in Ontario and the memories I have, could be all I have left.

I'm sorry I've dragged you down here with me into my pit of grief and despair. I'm sorry I wasn't able to overcome the sadness for just today. Blame Tuesday, cause it came first.