Just another day in paradise.

***March 2009***
Valentina got more flowers today. She was so pleased when they came. So many people love her. I hope and pray that someday my life/my choices will have mattered. Everyone is here for a reason and no one knows what their purpose is or if and when they fulfill the purpose.

Valentina and Erica today

I know in this life, I won't develop any cures for any illnesses. I know I have a small circle of friends and family that I can hope to impact. I hope when I'm gone people remember that I always do what I think is right. Even if it embarrasses me, I try to be better than I know myself to be. I know I won't come up with a super breed of dogs that are without health issues. I know a lot of things, but I also know that I really know nothing. I am just a cog in the wheel. I won't achieve anything heroic in my life time. I won't save my Country. I will know my biggest accomplishment is what I leave behind with my children and hopefully grandchildren. That is enough for me. Oh, and making the public aware that Oregon is God’s Country and then not letting them move here.

I used to think that I would like to know when it is my turn to die. Lately I have been thinking "not so much". I have seen the suffering, I have seen the shock and horror of it. We have been face to face lately and I would like to pass. I'm acutely aware of cancer like it breathes in my own nostrils. I had my breasts removed so I could give myself the "average" chance of developing breast cancer. I think dying in your sleep is the way to go. Vote me in on that okay?

You can read this article if you are curious.

http://www.oregonlive.com/special/index.ssf/2008/02/family_ties_boulanger_curse.html

The link above is a story that was written about my sisters and I that was published in the Oregonian by a very talented journalist and now friend, Julie Sullivan. Rob Finch took all the pictures and is an incredible photographer.

If you read the article You will know where I come from with all of this cancer crap. I'm not brave, I'm truly a coward. Afraid of the "C" word. Knowing that each day comes a chance my sisters or I will be forced to call one another with the news one of us has cancer. Every relative on my Mom's side is DEAD. All from Cancer and the most terrible part is it is carried in our genes. My family has sacrificed a lot. We have plans, us sisters. So hopefully God doesn't have other plans.

Seeing Valentina sit in the chair next to me, watching as her lungs go in and out all the while listening for the exchange of air in her lungs to be sure she is still alive. Her sickness is overtaking her now. She is looking more gone by the hour. I see heaven in her eyes. Simple things make her smile. I feel so sorry for her son. He is 22 and doesn't know anything really. He is smart but doesn't even know the questions he will want to know later on in life. God brought them to me as neighbors now we are together in the end. It is so wonderfully strange how God works through us to do what he needs to have done. We helped raise him and he knows we love him.

There is so much suffering.. more than I can see. There is so much in front of me now I sometimes think I'm not strong enough to go to the next hurdle. You know, every 2 hours I set my alarm to wake up so I can give Valentina a pain pill. When the little alarm rings it literally makes me ill to have to walk to the “that” room that houses her body. When I open the door ever so quietly I secretly hope she is still alive. (I hope she is still alive.) Why would I hope she is alive? She is suffering so bad right now. Why wouldn't I be praying for God to take her? I do pray for that but with each alarm my heart skips a beat. I think she is close to the end and yet I can't divert my eyes from her, I can’t help but to stare constantly at her. She is almost in a coma so I'm not being rude looking at her. I see Jesus when I look at her. Not the skeletal remains of what she is now, but the person and woman that she is. No poop/blood vomit today. Lots of spills and a little more gone mentally, but no barf. Thank you Jesus for that. She is closer to God with every breath. I can just sit and wonder what he is revealing to her.
Looking for just a hint of Him.

I can tell you that Valentina has made a difference in my life. I can see through her life what grace and love can do to a person. She knows how to pick good people to surround herself with. I think anything less would have been a disservice to her. She is so absolutely beautiful to me. I don't see her dying I see her living. I see her surrendering her will. I see angels when I look at her. All the nurses constantly comment on how beautiful she is and that she has such a beautiful aura and it emanates from her body even in this weakened condition. Taking care of her, feeding her, attending to her needs has made me a better person. I have had these long hours of sleeplessness that I have been quiet and had time to listen to the still small voice. I get so busy and hurried in my daily life that I barely sit still. I pray and then set about fixing things etc and never sit back and listen for the answers. So conceited am I. I have to listen very carefully I realize otherwise my own thoughts and ways are all I can hear.

I haven’t been to church in years. I quit going because I am lazy. I would rather sit in my chair and sip coffee and listen to the Pastor out at the Applegate Christian Fellowship. Jon Courson is a gifted teacher. I can't leave my dad and it is the only day I don't have to be on TV so to speak. I can wear my pajama's all day long and not have to put on the "Heather show". It seems so lame when I put on paper that I'm too lazy to be thankful to Christ enough to go to Church. Was raised a Mormon and had to go to church, had to wear a dress, etc. Now, I know God doesn't care what I wear, doesn't care if I put on a dress he is just happy to see me when I make myself available.
What a thought.

Angels are everywhere. They are in my house preparing...

Heaven is just a blink away.....

Today has been a terrible day. Valentina is sicker than ever. She decided that day before yesterday she was feeling "so much better" so she refused her nausea medicine and anxiety/smooth muscle relaxant pills. Yesterday evening she started to barf. Not any ordinary barf (I know, barf is anything but normal under any circumstances) it was actual feces and blood. I don't know what I expected when the hospice people did their whole "Why you want to die at home" presentation. They mentioned that there might be some blood, maybe they mentioned vomit too. Never in the same sentence and certainly not together. I smell death. It doesn't smell good yet I know God is preparing her for her final destination. I wonder... I wonder so much. Watching someone go through this is a harrowing, eye opening, life appreciating journey.

You know the thing about Valentina is she is braver than anyone I have ever had the opportunity to know. Everyone kept telling her to pray to be healed, to pray for strength, to keep fighting the fight and all along she was already doing that. She has had to endure more than anyone I personally know in her life. She sacrificed everything to give her son the "American Dream." She is from the Ukraine and isn't all "Americanized". She is a pure soul, not jaded and nasty. You know she only sees the good in people, never talks nasty, refuses to believe the bad. I know two people that you see God in them all of the time. I mean that...I only know two people who I think are going straight to Heaven. You don't wonder what lies behind their eyes, what motives they have. Valentina is one of those people David's dad is the other person. Honest purity.

You know, when my mom died I remember one of the last things she told me. We were all sitting around the kitchen table, her cheeks were so sunken in and she was quite emaciated as she could keep nothing down and even had difficulty talking and she leaned forward to me and said: "Heather, I would give everything I have ever owned to be hungry just one more time. Just to have anything sound good to me to eat". My Mom would have been willing to give up every earthly possession for the one basic need in life... to eat. That brings back the reality of "You can't take it with you." I think at least I have learned that lesson from my Mom. I don't put a lot of value in "things". If you spill milk on the couch just wipe it up. I don't get mad about accidents. If I have something you want you can probably have it. Things don't matter to me. When you look at life as one great journey it falls short for some people. My Mom died too young, she was only 45. I'm 45 now and am not even close to being ready. I want grand kids, I want more memories. I want... I want it all. I miss my Mom terrible and going through this with Valentina is quite a horrifying experience.

Valentina is at peace with what she is going through. She has said what she needs to say, has said what she wants to say and now sits and rots all the while keeping her spirits up. Every once in a while she will look at me with the look of desperation and tell me "I'm ready to die and be with God". Why am I not ready for her to go? I see her body disintegrating before me and it sickens me to see that such a wonderful person could be made to rot from the inside out. Her muscles are disintegrating and rotting. Why is it that the truly evil and terrible people gets to die in their sleep? Gets a quick painless death? I am struggling with the most incredible headache right now. I'm telling you a bad one. I think maybe waking up every 2 hours to medicate her is affecting my REM sleep. It can't be that I have not had enough caffeine today. That would make me have to admit that I'm addicted to it.


When I die, if I can't eat or drink I have instructed all the kids to chop up steak and stick it between my teeth and when the morticians come they are to find me with steak stuck in my teeth and a shrimp hanging out my mouth. Oh yah, also MUST be holding a diet Pepsi. LOL.

I know my latest blogs have been so depressing but that is where I am. My dad is the least of my worries. He is actually being a good boy and I appreciate it. He notices the change of the mood in the house. He has risen to the occasion and is so much less demanding. He was jealous at first and now realizes that he can share my love.

I feel so ashamed to admit this next part but feel like in order to be honest I need to put it on here so I see it with my own eyes. When Valentina asked me to take care of her I selfishly said to myself over and over "Why me?" I was feeling so sorry for myself because I always find myself taking care of people. I felt ashamed to admit it. (When she asked me I told her "Yes it would be my pleasure".) We pledged to each other "Together to the end." I have seen her eyes light up a few times. When I ask her if she wants the special Guayaki Orange blossom tea she has learned to love and then tonight when Erica made us three matching bracelets. I think this last smile and eyes glistening with glee is going to be her last. I think tomorrow she will be in a coma. I'm not a doctor even though I act like I am. She is jsut so weak. Almost too weak to walk. Can't hardly stand to see her. No one else is here so I'm considering this my last present to her. She loves being at my house. She finally sees why her son, Sergio loved it at my house. It is a family. a crazy, loud and sometimes vulgar group of people coexisting in one house. We love him. I love him. I hope he leans on us when he is ready to surrender the reality too. We love each other so much. We are a real American family and she wishes... well she wishes too late.

I woke up one morning and realized I knew why I am always the one being asked to be the caregiver, and that it is an honor to be trusted with someones life. Someone else in this world trusts me to help them enter the next phase. To have the confidence in me enough to ask me to be with them is enormous. It iss HUGE. I mean I realize it is h.u.g.e. I feel like it is such an honor. I know I have switched gears here but instead of asking myself "Why me?" I had an epiphany and realized "Why not me?" God has put me in the position that makes me available to help others. I feel bad that I always have to go with the first thought. Why me?? I wish I could just grow up and accept my place in the world. I'm a caregiver. Been prepared for it my whole life.

I planned to be a doctor when in college. Actually not finishing college is my most secret regret. I could be a doctor right now. I would never be happy being a nurse, I would want to be in charge of the total patient not the one taking the orders. Then if you think about it on a different level doctors have to make such hard decisions, everyone expects them to have all the answers and yet they fall short so much of the time. I would hate it because I like exacting things. You know A+B=C. Not so many variables and peoples lives in my hands. I think the amount of stress involved would make me nuts. I like dogs. I love dogs. I think the world is a better place because of dogs. I have 4 laying on me right now making it kind of difficult to type. (Big smile here).

My Toshiba is broke now. Luckily I have the Hewlitt Packard back up. Am I hard on electronics?? Why do my cell phones break so much? So much difficulty. That is it for now. I'm not going to second guess everything any more. I'm going to trust that God is in charge of when, how and what with Valentina. If anyone reads this... if I have cancer (sure I do-seems like it lurks everywhere) keep me doped up. Doped up good.

I'm entertaining angels? Yes I am.

No one needs to start off telling me how lame I am at keeping things posted, but I haven't had the time. When I'm down in the trenching I can't see too far beyond my noise. This writing will be of wild and wonderful of tangents, and probably won't make sense to everyone/anyone. I reckon i'm just writing for me. I need to vent.

All is good in the dog world.

My dogs are healthy; nothing weird and I thank God for that.

My plate is full already. What do I mean by that? My Dad is still being ornery as ever. He is crushing my spirit. Yes, I will die first. Yikes! With that being said, I think I should say I love my dad. He just is so mean and unappreciative. Nothing is ever right, not hot enough, not cold enough, too much ice, too little ice etc. You get the picture. Lots of people take care of unappreciative people and i know that it doesn't make me special or have a certain privilege to complain. I hope I'm teaching my children that when our generations get old they don't throw us away. We care for our own families. Except none of my sisters or brother will take my dad. I say "We are better people than that" and go about my day. Sometimes (depending on the amount of sleep I have been allowed to have) I'm actually thankful for the opportunity to be with him. He is mean but I know he loves me. Does that mean I wear the pork chop? He did something right because he is clean, well fed and sassy. One of my kids better belly up to the bar when it is my turn to be old. I will be a nice old person. I know the difference first hand. When he dies I am a real orphan. I'm old enough to understand all of this but sometimes when I am so weary I lose my focus.

**Valentina is a friend**

14 years ago my mean, old neighbor married a woman from the Ukraine who had a son. He was 8 when they moved in next door to me. They spoke no English. We home schooled our children and he learned everything right along with the kids. I love him as if he is my own. Well, we moved out to the country and away from the mean neighbor and his wonderful wife when their son went to college. A few months ago I find out he has divorced her and she is dying from stomach cancer. What a bastard right? It doesn't stop there. She is dying. There is nothing that can be done for her. You know what? I have never heard her shed a tear for herself. Not one. Of course I'm not with her 100% of the time but she has been so kind, appreciate and makes me actually happy to help her. Does that sound weird? I'm enjoying taking care of a dying woman? She is strong, stronger than I would ever be. I would cry and feel so sorry for myself. All the things I would miss out on. The grand kids, the graduations etc. She is weak.. so weak and yet she still tries to do everything for herself. She is just a skeleton now. Nothing but hanging skin on bones and it hurts me to look at her. At the same time I can't stand not to have her in my sights in case she needs something. Not everyone in my life has been happy with my decision to care for her until the end. I don't care. Now that is weird for me as I tend to be the consummate people pleaser. Taking care of her makes me feel loved some how. I see it in her eyes. I hear it when she calls me into her room at three in the morning because she wants to hold my hands and thank God for me in her life. Those things count to me. They count a lot. When my own Mom died I lied in the hospital bed with her as her life was slowly taken from me. I am not wanting to have regrets in my life. I make choices before I consult my immediate family and God knows my heart. I don't understand why I get called in such ways. It is not like I'm out looking for "strays" or people to care for. God brings them to my door. I just... I don't know. Valentina's friends came in number to see us (really her) when she was in the hospital the last time and her other friends have blessed me. She has the most excellent friends. Real women of God. Not phonies, but women who when they say that they are praying for her I believe them. You know, when people say "Oh, I'll pray for you" you wonder if they really will. These women (her friends) are incredible. God blessed her with such wonderful women in her life to make up to her for having such a (I want to type "evil" but can't bring myself to say that word) mean, selfish totally money loving man. Everything to him is about the mighty dollar. Sad, as someday he will have to answer for his behavior. Yikes! Does it sound like I'm judging him? I totally am, that way I don't have to look at me.

I think this blog is rambling along even more that I imagined when I started out because I didn't realize where I would go with it. God. All I can say is God. When I'm up really, really late with my Father and Valentina it is almost like I feel his presence in my life. I feel like he knows what I'm doing and thanks me in the wee hours of the morning. I haven't told any of my business associates of my care giving. I feel ashamed. Like they will judge me. What will they judge me on? Like I'm a patsy? A waste? A person who doesn't say "no?" I don't know why it is. I didn't even realize that I hadn't not told people for a reason. Am I ashamed to take care of the ill? am I afraid to look weak in the minds of my business associates? Now instead of being blessed by this I'm feeling ashamed of myself again. I am empowered when I help someone get what they want and don't what. We cutely call it "Mom is the facilitator" for Valentina.

Guess that is it for now except to say Erica has been such a blessing to me. When I'm totally stressed out or scared by Valentina's pain she comes into the room behind me and assures me I'm doing all the medications right, I'm doing the right stuff, Valentina really is that weak. When I am broken she comes in behind me and reminds me what a privilege it is to care for someone else. Hopefully if Cody marries her she will know how to take over the "Care giver" role. I don't want to go to a nursing home.

Happy Thanksgiving all!!

So, it is Thanksgiving already and I'm still up. No, I'm not fretting over what to make, how long it takes to prepare, how high to set the heat or if everyone who is coming over will have a good time. Instead I'm sitting up looking at my new cowboy boots. That's right, I got new cowboy boots tonight. I'm sure I must be such a sight. A middle aged old woman wearing shorts, a Iam Jacket followed along with cowboy boots clunking about. Today (actually yesterday) was a bit tense at times. Lots of drama. I wish that things would settle down with the way people treat and act towards one another. No one knows when their ticket will get punched and it is time to leave this earth. I find it hard to believe that someone can be a Christian and believe in Christ and then things don't go their way and they decide Buddha is the way. It is not that I have anything against Buddha beliefs, I'm ignorant about them actually. I just don't understand other people's choices. Sure glad that I'm only responsible for me and my kids and how I have trained them up. Changing subjects here.
The puppies are so cute. I have the most adorable little CavaChi's, they are so sweet. They are my favorite hybrids. The kids are getting excited to have me gone for 2 days in Portland. I have many babies to deliver and love when I get to make people's life enhanced with one of my babies.

Hey Heather, do you got any coffee?

This is shouted out to me every time I dad is between sleep stages. Midnight, 4 am, 2 am, Noon, it doesn't matter the time. He wants coffee. The funny thing though is that he wants what he wants when he wants it. I can see the parallel between child and later aged adults. Dogs are selling great. I love it when people call and appreciate the hard work that goes into them. I'm doing a lot of stuff on line lately and I find the further in you delve the more interesting it gets. NO you doubters, I'm not getting into anything satanic, pornographic or disgusting. Just the amount of information is overwhelming. I mean it, you can find anything anywhere. I also downloaded Google Chrome. What an awesome program. You start typing and it's only job is to find what you are looking for. I have to get my dad that coffee, he is needing his third cup and it is the "nickle" day. Thursdays are the days he gets his special paper. OMG calling for a third time in this short amount of time. I'm a fast typist too.

I'm emarrassed by the time lapse in entries

I can't believe how long it has been since I have blogged here. Seems like the main times I want/need to blog is when I'm stressed/pissed or confused. Wonder what it is this time?? Let's see. I just re-read the blogs I posted and I sound so mean and ugly. I'm really not. I would say I'm more blunt. Straight to the point blunt though. I could say my dad is a hard man to take care of. I can say I got help with him now. I can say that things are so much better now with someone helping me. My husband did get his Bachelors degree in September. He got it in Business Administration. He is now working on his Masters degree. I'm tired. As usual I'm tired. He works 12 hours a day for "the man" and then comes home and starts his homework/assignments etc. Hardly see each other. I'm complaining. That is why I'm here today. I want to complain about my husband and his "selfish" desire to improve his families living situation. Isn't that utterly crazy? Selfish? I"m sure he doesn't like being stuck working at home and at his job. Well, to be truthful he doesn't do ANYTHING at the house. There are no "Honey do" lists. Honey do is me I have learned after all these years. When he takes a vacation he does things around the house but during the other times there is not a dish done, not a load of laundry (He does wash his own white shirts because I was "staining" them in the wash). He doesn't vacuum, make phone calls or sweep. He comes home from work, works on the computer and then goes upstairs and veg's out to the TV in preparation for the next exciting day of "same old shit". I suppose if I was him I could complain about me. Heck, I would be good at it too. It's that bluntness about me dontcha know? (Yes I know "Dontcha" is not a "real" word but when I say it or type it I feel like a southern Belle)

I love every show involving judges, Desperate Housewives, Greys Anatomy, General Hospital, Cesar Milan, Animal Planet, Brothers and Sisters, Lost, House and anything to do with operating. I like that in Oregon there is NO SALES TAX. What the price says is what it actually costs you.

I'm thankful for the friends I have. I'm also interesting enough to have some people not be friends any more. You need weeding out some, gaining new ones. Some friends are my forever friends. I turned 45 this year. Certainly not any sort of milestone but with each new year comes new nuances and new awarenesses. I have realized that in my 45 years I have about 5 really good true friends. Those 5 will be there at my funeral, helping to support my family and I know in my heart they love me. OH, don't get me wrong, there are always conditions for friendship. I think everyone has conditions. EVERYONE. You have to figure out if the unspoken conditions are worth the cost of the friendship. Now, I know I'm going to have people say I'm a pessimist etc. Think long and hard about it. I have. And for me that is my truth. I love that I can be who I am and some people like me. I'm just an average/regular Joe. No, you politicians I'm not Plumber Joe. I'm not Joe Smoe. I'm just ordinary. How sad. In my mind I'm extraordinary. I can do every job, run marathons and fly planes. It is a good thing I lose keys because if anyone here were a pilot I would try to fly the plane. No, I'm not having dreams of grandeur.

I wonder if he is sleeping?

Yes, It has been one hell of a day and I'm feeling more and more screwed by the day. My dad is taking every free minute and every minute all day and night. He starts calling me every morning at one and keeps going until well past 8. Fix my pillow, I need a breathing treatment, Fluff my pillow, cover my feet, uncover my feet, pick up something I dropped. I'm too hot, I'm cold now etc. I'm trying to be supportive but I'm damn tired. I called my dad's worker and asked to have some help. Apparently I'm making the most I can and now I have to write a letter (Very detailed) explaining why it is I need some help. At this point I'm feeling like.. "Great, take him".

I don't want my dad in a nursing home, I have done all in my power to keep him home I just need help. Now tonight I'm tired as hell and have to try to put together a fucking letter to some pompous bitch who can weigh it and decide my and my father's future. Pisses me off something fierce. I like dogs. Dogs make my life bearable. They love me unconditionally.



Now, I find out today that my old neighbor, Sergio's Mom has stomach cancer and the doctors give her 6 months. Usually I think doctors are so full of shit. With her they put a scope down her throat, saw the cancer was everywhere and told her bye bye. Speaking about doctors being screw asses. I have recently this week found out that my "wonderful, carefree, fun and easy" expanders have been "compromised". That is really a nice way of saying to me that I have been poking holes in my tit's every week injecting sodium hydrochloride into them and then they have been leaking out little by little. Hey, at least it is good to be me. NOT!! So, after much consideration I have decided to take out my fucking expanders and live my life as a flat bitch. No tits!! No more operations for me. I'm tired. Did I already mention I'm tired? Drained really. My tits drained into my body and now I'm just tired. I found out just recently that when you get the "fake tits" you have to remove and put new enhancements every 7-10 years. I'm not wanting a lot of surgery. No more than I've had now. I'm just so pissed that the doctor is having me come up Tuesday (4.5 hours each way) so he can counsel me. Then wants me to wait until Thursday, drive my fat ass back up there once again and then decide my fate. What an arrogant asshole. No consideration to the fact I'm almost 45. Don't care about the tits anymore. If my husband doesn't care and has been telling me for months to let them go why should I? No more bra's. That is right. No bra's. No shoulders hurting, more flexibility and hey... How can I possibly think about so many surgeries? Who will take care of my dad? He is full time and 24/7. I wonder if he is sleeping right now. I'm going to go wake him up. Bye