Whose American Dream?

Yesterday my husband and I got a letter from Bank of America.  We are one of the lucky people who had a mortgage owned by Countrywide and then had it sold to the bank of the devil.  Dealing with them has been excruciating.  They are heartless cheats to be honest.  We have never missed a home payment nor even been late.  Not once.  One might think that would make them want to deal with us, but it's not.  Since they understand our responsibility, they know we will always pay.  For the last 2-3 months, we have been working to try and get our home payments reduced.  Their answer came in a letter delivered by FedEx,  "Sorry, can't help you."  Strangely, I'm feeling quite liberated.  We can't keep paying for this house.  It is too big, too expensive and we can't afford the upkeep.  They suggested we start thinking about short selling.  I am so ready to move on with all this.  I can't wait for the day when we have more breathing room financially.  Hell, I'm a dreamer, maybe we can even save for the kids' college funds!  Why stop there?!  Maybe put some money away for the girls' weddings we might have to pay for!!

We've got a lot to work out and things probably won't happen quickly.  I still can't help but feel optimistic.  I've come to realize that the American Dream we are all supposed to work so hard for, isn't my dream.  More importantly, it's ok that it's not.  Hard work isn't the problem.  I enjoy the sense of accomplishment I get from completing a task.  That isn't all there is though.  Neither my husband nor I want to spend all of every weekend doing yard work and household upkeep.  I would much rather be doing something fun with my family.  If we do shirk our responsibilities to go play, the guilt remains.  Life provides ample opportunities to worry and stress ourselves out.  I just want to feel like life is manageable.  That isn't too much to ask for.

Making Healthcare Even More Expensive

Our family makes many trips to the doctor.  Mainly these appointments are for the kids.  Every three months we see the endocrinologist.  The allergy/asthma doctor is another favorite and all 3 kids now see him too.  Then we visit the pediatrician at least yearly and others including the ophthalmologist and gastroenterologist.  Having children with chronic illnesses and pre-existing conditions causes us to make decisions differently than if they didn't.  For example, before ever seriously considering taking a job my husband has to find out all the details of what the healthcare insurance would be.  We must know co-pays not only for office visits and prescriptions but for pump supplies and test strips.  All of this is very expensive.

Yesterday I got a letter in the mail from my primary care doctor, an internal medicine specialist.  It said that he is partnering with a company called MDVIP.  This will allow him to spend more time with each patient by reducing his practice size.  Also, they appear to be emphasizing disease prevention and a wellness program using advanced technology.  Sound good?  Great!  The annual fee for this wonderful program is $1650.  $1650 above and beyond what we pay into our health insurance.  $137.50/month!!  Don't forget that's per person, so for my husband and I both to be exclusive members that would be $275/month.

Is this where medicine is going?  Doctors now aren't making enough from our health insurance so now they want to charge us a membership fee to have the privilege of going to see him?  It definitely will cut down the size of his practice.  Only the most well-off people could even begin to afford this.  That will assure him that no bill should go late and he can buy that bigger house or fancier car.

Yesterday I was shocked.  Last night I was offended.  Today I am just plain mad.  This guy is a fine doctor.  Fine, not excellent or even great.I wouldn't do this even if we had a slight chance of being able to afford it.  It sickens me to think that there are some people who will sign up for this pleasure.  If you are interested in finding out more about this, click here.

Mid Life Crisis?

A week or two ago I was on the phone catching up with my best pal when I slipped in the fact that I thought I was having a mid life crisis.  "No," she said, "you're not old enough!"  "But I'm close to 40 and that's halfway to 80," I argued.  "I'd be happy to live that long!"

She is right about when most people seem to have them.  They seem to happen around the age of 50.  Also, most of those who suffer from them seem to be men.  But then maybe it's because they have such noticeable manifestations like buying a new sports car or getting a young girlfriend or having an affair.

Mine was brought on by the deep realization that my life has an expiration date.  I had begun to feel the effects of this dawning realization even before my 64 year old mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers. Without religion making this life insignificant, I feel like I have wasted a whole lot of time.  I'm just getting older and time is flying by.  What chances did I miss taking?  Which doors have closed?  If this is all there is, how can I live the life I want to live?  What do I want from life, period?

Coming Out of the Closet!...or not

That title may give the wrong impression because I am not gay.  Also, I'm not truly coming out since no one really reads this blog (though there were the 3 views from Russia and 1 from Germany.)

Here is my big secret-I am an atheist.  That means I am not only not Christian but I don't believe in God at all.

The problem is that I'm living a lie.  My hubs and I have tried time and again to believe in God.  Each time we go back gets shorter and I feel less enthusiastic.  I just can't buy what they're selling.  It makes no sense to my more scientifically trained brain and doesn't do much for my heart.  We are both fine with this.  It changes my perspective on life a bit, but that's ok.  The real difficulty is that religion, Christianity specifically, is such a part of the majority of people's identities where we live.  I've gone to church, my kids go to Bible study every week, we were even baptized.  Now it's so awkward running into people we know.  The pastor who baptized us lives across the street from my parents.  I've had nightmares about seeing him and getting scolded but in reality, he just ignores my husband and I.  Other members of the church see us out and about and quiz us about where we've been.  My parents frequently ask us when we're going back to church, adding that the children need to be brought up right.  Friends ask us to pray or pray for us.

No one knows our secret.  Courage is not something I have in large quantities.  Guilt I do have.  Every time I let people think that I am still Christian, I am lying about who I am.  I'm not sure how long I can keep this charade up.  Worse, I'm not sure I could give it up.  Disapproving looks, people avoiding us, parents keeping their kids away from mine, the list goes on and on.  Maybe I'll just stay here in the closet with the coats.

Alzheimers

"It came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time."

Death Cab for Cutie

In December my Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease.  I don't think any of us were really surprised.  For a long time she has had a terrible short term memory.  That diagnosis was a firm end stamped on her life.  We have no idea how long it will be before things get really bad, but we know the path that will be taken.  I swear that I heard a door slam shut in that room.  My Mom had just turned 64.

The unexpected side effect of this is what I think most disturbs me.  Trust me, I am ill at the thought of watching my Mom slowly forget who we are and lose herself.  Who wouldn't be?  The thing I am struggling with unexpectedly is that over the past few years my short term memory has been failing too.  At first I just thought I wasn't really working out my brain much and that was the cause.  I joked with my Mom that I was going to be worse than she was.  And then came the diagnosis.

Looking at the research is no comfort.  There is a strong genetic component to Alzheimers.  A few genes have been linked to the disease.  For the most part, having the gene does not guarantee you will get Alzheimers.  There is a gene that is linked to early onset Alzheimers which is much more scary.  I read a study that said there is a less than 5% chance of NOT developing the disease if you have the gene.  Too many unknowns to start freaking out, right?  Tell that to my brain.  If I had a bunch of money, I would find someone to test me or both of us to see if there was a genetic component.  I don't though, so here I sit.

I'm 38 years old.  Not a kid, but most people wouldn't feel they needed to think so hard about "the end."  I can't seem to help it.  There are so many things that I want to do, so many places I want to travel.  We've toyed with the idea of moving abroad at some point.  I would love that.

I've also given a lot of thought to what a disease like that will do to my family.  Crazy as I am, I have researched which countries will allow assisted suicide.  Here is where it gets tricky though. If I do somehow get to the Netherlands, presumably I'll be too screwed up to be able to plan it.  I can't ask my husband.  I'm trying to save pain, not create more.  So then who will decide when I'm enough gone that it's time?  I'd prefer sooner than later, but I guess I'll have to worry about this later.

In the meantime, I am struggling to deal with what will happen to my Mom.  It's almost more than I can bear to think about what this is going to do to her and also to my Dad.  So I do what I do about a lot of other painful things.  I do my best not to think about it.  I also have struggled with what to tell my children.  For now, I am telling them nothing.  There is no reason they need to share this burden with me.  Grandma is forgetful.  Oh well.

Day of Hope

Today is Diabetes Hope for a Cure Day.  You're supposed to write hope on your hand and allow yourself for just one day to hope that there will be a cure for diabetes.  Normally I don't get sucked into these things too much because honestly I'm not hopeful.  Progress is being made in both treatment as well as toward a cure.  I can't allow myself to get wrapped up in it though.  Diabetes and the suckiness of it is a part of my daily life.  It's a part of who my son is.  4 years and 5 months since his diagnosis and nothing much has changed.

Last Sunday we had a very scary, dangerous incident with my boy.  He had a seizure from a low blood sugar.  We did everything right.  We didn't make any mistakes.  He seemed to have had a bit of a stomach virus and his blood sugar dropped dangerously low.  We'll never know just how low.  The images of that morning are burned into my memory as well as my husband's.  They have haunted my nightmares.  I am trying to focus on the fact that he is ok now.  I just get a bit panicky thinking about what could have happened.  What if this had happened in the night?  We check his blood sugar twice every night, but there are nights I've forgotten to set the alarm and not woken up.  Children do die.

So to try and get through this ordeal our family went through, I am allowing myself to hope today.  Just today I am going to imagine what life will be like someday for us.  I wonder if I'll still wake up in the night out of habit.  We could be figuring out a way to buy some cool frivolous electronic rather than a piece of medical equipment where we need a $500 deposit and $156/month.  I wouldn't have such an intimate relationship with the school nurse.  I could possibly not shower with my cell phone.  I think the wrinkles and aging are permanent though.

For now, my son is safe.  He is healthy.  What more can I ask for?

My Heart

Sometimes a person comes into your life at precisely the time when you desperately need them.  In the fall of 1990, I was at a very low point.  My self esteem was the lowest it had ever been.  I had just ended a relationship with someone quite toxic and along with a friend, had sworn off any interactions with boys. I was going to try and focus on my grades, as I was starting my senior year and had let my grades fall.  Then I saw the man I would fall head over heels for and spend the rest of my life with.  Patrick was gorgeous and so cool.  I'd never seen anyone like him before.  Eventually, with some intervention from my sister, he asked me out.  I'm not sure if it's supposed to happen like this or not, but I remember the exact moment I fell in love.  Just thinking of it makes my heart skip a beat.

Prom

The Night He Proposed

I'm not sure how to describe him other than my soulmate.  That term is so overused, I hate using it, but I can think of no other to describe him.  I knew, and I think Patrick did too, that this was it.  Thinking of it now, I can't imagine that something like this could happen when I was not quite 17 and he wasn't yet 18 -   but it did.  We were meant to be together.  The longer we're together, the more I believe that.  We finish each other's sentences and sometimes know what is on the other's mind even when we're apart.  I've never felt so beautiful as when he looks at me.  His love made me think that if he could love me, there must be something worth loving.  I love him so deeply and completely that I think I would cease to exist if he didn't.

Loving Patrick was easy.  It wasn't a choice I made.  Deciding to spend forever together was the choice and it hasn't always been easy.  There have been some stumbling blocks along the way, but underneath it all was our unbelievably passionate love.  We have gotten each other through some very difficult times.  We've also experienced joy greater than I ever thought possible.  Our three perfect children seem to be the perfect manifestation of our love.  Nothing could mean more to me than our precious life together.  Patrick, you are my life and my heart.  I will be yours until my heart stops beating.