I’m a bit better today. I’ve had a real go-around with this back problem. Lisa has massaged it nightly, and I’ve been to the chiropractor five times in the past week. Each time I go to the chiropractor, however, it seems worse. He’s not as gentle as Lisa is.
Last night Lisa massaged it with Blue Stop, as she has frequently since this started. I woke up this morning feeling better than I have in a long time since all this started. I can’t rave enough about Blue Stop and I can’t understand why doctors don’t know about it. We gave some to Lisa’s mother a couple of years ago when she was telling us that the pain in her hands wakes her up at night. The first night she used Blue Stop, she slept all night, and has since. A guy from work had surgery a couple of years ago on an ankle that he broke, and I gave him some when he complained that it ached terribly in the cold weather. I gave him some Blue Stop, and the following week he stopped by my office to tell me that he’d had no achiness since he began using it. The Director of Building Services has a problem with his hip grinding bone against bone. He used some of the Blue Stop that I gave him, and felt significant relief. This stuff is pricey (about $28 for 8 oz.), but it’s worth every penny. And, a little bit goes a long way. I order direct from the company, but you can get it at drugstore.com or cvs.com. If you have pain or inflammation, this stuff will help.
I’m bumming these days about Le and Vanessa and the whole situation with my father. Le is seeing someone — a professor from the college. He’s 50, she’s 35. She wants a lot of kids, he doesn’t want any more than the two he has from his first marriage. I worry about Le having gotten into a relationship so early while her life is so complicated. I wonder about a man who would date a student involved in such complexities. Le’s vulnerable right now and her hatred and anger regarding my father threatens to burn her up from the inside out. I worry about how her choices will affect Vanessa. I also worry that Le will disappear and we won’t know where she is.
Honestly, I can’t blame her for her feelings of doubt when it comes to trust for any one of us related to my father and her “friend” has no emotional investment in the situation whatsoever, so I think it makes it easy for her to think she can trust him more than us. But I don’t want to see Vanessa uprooted and yanked away from the only “family” she has left in her life since having to leave her entire family behind in Brazil. She worried initially that, if my father wasn’t going to be her father anymore, that would mean that we’re not sisters any more. I’ve grown very fond of that child.
My father called me yesterday and told me that he was going to take a plea deal. He’ll go to state prison for a two-year sentence, of which he has to serve 11 months minimum. He’s asked me to handle his personal affairs while he’s incarcerated — pay his bills, make medical decisions for him, etc.
Lisa’s having a very difficult time with my involvement with both sides of this issue. She said last night that it looks like I’m “playing both sides,” but I can’t seem to make her understand that I can only do what I feel is the right thing to do on both sides. I can’t turn my back on Le and Vanessa, and I can’t turn my back on my father. Yes, I want him to have to go to jail because of what he did but, at the same time, he’s still my father and I feel a certain sense of obligation to him. Deep down, my father knows that my asshole brother and his asshole son won’t act with his best interests in mind. Rather, they’d act with their own interests in mind, and they’d rob him blind. While my father may hate what I’ve done to assist the prosecution against him, I think on some level he knows that I did the right thing.
Don’t get me wrong — the right thing has had a bitter taste on both sides and I often fear I’m losing my perspective on what’s right and what’s wrong in my role in this whole thing. All I know is that both parties in this thing need me and have entrusted me to act on their best behalf. Good thing I’m not a lawyer. I’ve spoken with the Crime Victim’s Advocate on several occasions and he marvels at what I do for both sides. I’ve asked him to help me stay honest in doing what’s right, without acting emotionally.
So, my father will go to state prison. He’s scared shitless, and I can’t say as I blame him. But, at the same time, he deserves it for what he did to that little girl. Half of me gleefully accepts that he’ll go to state prison as a child molester and have a really rough life there — and with his nasty attitude toward people in general, that’s not going to play well for him either. But the other half accepts that, given his age and his propensity for treating people like the scum you scrape off the bottom of your shoes, he’ll likely be beaten, raped, or worse. I suspect that when my father goes off to prison, it’ll be the last time I see him alive, given his age, his medical history, and the crimes for which he was convicted. That’s my reality.
That, and the probability of losing Le and Vanessa.
On a lighter note….
I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday morning to follow up on my blood pressure and the fact that I’d reduced my HCTZ by half for the past month. My BP readings have been good, but got worriesome when I went back on the progesterin in early February. That stuff screws me up so bad I decided that I’d let nature take it’s course with this whole menopause thing, and discontinued the progesterin. My BP went back down to normal.
The problem was that, when I was in the doctor’s office, my blood pressure was always elevated slightly. The doctor once asked me if I was nervous. Me? Nervous about a blood pressure check? HELL NO! But, there it was, elevated.
So yesterday we’re talking and I showed her my BP readings for the past month (with and without progesterin) and she agreed that I could stop taking the HCTZ altogether (YAY!). She sort of shook her head and said “I don’t understand why your readings are always so high here in the office.” I told her “Well, every time I come here it’s first thing in the morning, and I don’t have coffee before I come so that doesn’t screw up the BP readings. I get here crabby, still waking up, and the first thing your nurse does is make me get on the frickin’ scales! And you wonder why my blood pressure is up here!?! ” The woman literally choked a laugh out. Hehe Hey, you know, that sort of sets your tone for the whole day, having to stand on scales WITH your jeans and sweater and everything else on. Talk about poo-pooing in someone’s Easter Basket first thing…
I really want to get back on track with my walking and going back to Curves. I haven’t been to Curves since late November. All this BS with my father and Le has consumed my life since his stroke in early December. I want normal again.
I’ve been given strict instructions that I’m to be prepared to paint this weekend. Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice. We’ve had the paint and stuff for 3 weeks now, but have been at Le’s house every weekend since we bought it. I’m really psyched about the theme and colors we’ve picked out and I think that re-doing that entryway is going to be good for both of us, psychologically. I hope I remember to take before and after pictures.
And so today I leave you with some words of wisdom that were imparted to me just this morning: Never trust a fart.