The cow isn't the only one who lost its life.
Does anyone else out there go sit in a closet and have a complete meltdown after taking a 90-plus narcissist/parent for a check-up and getting a big thumbs-up?
She had a bovine valve transplant at 90.
"It's ticking like a Swiss watch," says the cardiologist. Well, whoopee! Yah, that's great!
My take on the good news is: complete bowel incontinence (aided by the outrageously expensive medications to keep the Swiss watch ticking, which is already causing frequent Hershey squirt accidents all over the house), becoming wheelchair-bound, dementia, blindness, being in constant pain, bankruptcy, etc. is coming!
And I alone will have a front row seat to it all! The ticker will still keep ticking. Yah, it's a miracle!
I felt like vaulting over the table, grabbing him by the collar of his white coat...
But, I couldn't even look at him, say a word. During past appointments, I did get the feeling that he is conflicted too. Mentioned sheepishly, other patients with crippling arthritis, suffering terribly. But, still ticking.
Is there a profession left in this world that hasn't become a complete perversion? Doctors feel like they are causing suffering, cops are the bad guys, teachers are the ones who don't care enough about children. I digress.
But, it is another aspect of interacting with reality as a caregiver for someone who is, let's face it, just living too long, unnaturally. Everything is upside down and inside out. Life bad, death good.
My productivity is to keep her around unproductively to siphon off the productivity of even more, even younger people struggling to survive so she can suffer some more and maybe play bridge a few times more, after 30 years of retirement in the lap of luxery, after working for less than 20. My mother had to deal with all of one month of having her mother around.
I can't believe how old I'm getting, and it may very well never be my turn.
Could go on and on about everything, as I'm sure most of us could. And maybe will :)
The last "good news" doctor appointment set off a regression of all the progress I thought I had made with my coping attitude. (Plus, Thanksgiving, ugh...upside down inside out...special days used to be fun, should be, but are now torture. Seems we caught that sibling relationship sickness, a mutation of the excessive old age disease, that I heard about on here and never thought would happen to us.)
Anyway, the gist is that the no.end.in.sight part of it all has become inflamed, again.
I'm coming up on one year of living here with her like this, been reading all of your comments, have been grateful to you all for putting it out there.