Two Weeks From Hell

by Miss Beth at Miss Beth's Victory Dance Today was not a good day. In the past two weeks, four people--four very dear people--have become seriously ill. Two are family members, one is a former family member and the fourth is a blogging family member. The youngest is my grandson. He just turned 3 months old. He was losing weight and there was no explanation why. So he was hospitalized for testing. After much prodding and poking, reviewing feeding procedures with my daughter, seeing how well this child ate, they finally came to a preliminary diagnosis. Cerebral Palsy. A very mild form, will not affect him in his mental development, is not expected to become worse over time and will only mildly hamper his motor development. Next is my nephew. He just turned 15. A Texas boy. A star athlete and always in trouble with his mischief. Last Tuesday, he was playing basketball and hurt his leg in the game. It was still hurting so my sister took him to the doctor. I found out today he has osteosarcoma-bone cancer. My sister is in extreme denial, thinking the surgery next week will be simple and non-invasive. After doing some research tonight, I know it's probably going to be exploratory to determine the size and features of the tumor (calcium malignant, attached at the site) and treatment options. There is a very good chance he will lose part of his leg--if not his life. The exploratory is prior to chemo starting as well. Then my ex father-in-law. Frankly, I would dance on the graves of my ex and his family. But not him. Out of the entire clan, he was the only one who was ever decent to me. He is in his late 70's and is suffering from heart failure. He's been very ill for quite some time, but he has given up. He has been brought home from the hospital to die, and makes no bones to the grandkids he will be spending Christmas with Santa Clause. He isn't expected to live past Thursday. This once robust, hearty man is a mere shell of himself and it's heartwrenching to see. He's worked his whole life for a family full of ingrates, who always put him down because he wasn't a "book learned" man--although he found a way to put four children through private schools, supported a wife from hell who expected him to cater to her (she refused to even drive a car) while all she could do was denigrate him. He did it quietly, with dignity. When he was out of work from the mines, he worked side jobs and always paid the bills--in cash. He loved his grandchildren, each as they came along. He was the only one in the family to welcome me when I married into it and for that I will always be grateful. While the hellspawn of his family can take a long walk off a high cliff, I do not wish a holiday death on anyone. Having lost both of my parents, it's hard and it will only hit them just how special this man is after he is gone. And it will be too late for them to say a simple "thank you". Last, but by no means least, is our friend Roger Gardner from Radarsite. He is also fighting for his life, but better bloggers than I have addressed Roger and his trials. However, we have good news on Roger--his prognosis is getting better and better each time we hear from him, and we thank God for that. Two weeks from hell. Four very dear people, ranging in age from 3 months to early 80's. Obama wants to talk Main Street. I got your Main Street right here. And mine is real--it's not a fantasyland concocted in the wild dreams of a meglomaniac. Sorry, Stinky--my priorities are far and away more important than your fantasies. You will just have to wait until you royally screw up--and then you will most definitely hear from me on your so-called change which is nothing more than recycled Clinton. Yeah--you're "green"--green from the stench of decay. I have my family and friends to worry about. Maybe you should get in touch with real Main Street Americans and what is on our minds--not your ice cream dreams and lollipop sundaes. Two weeks from hell.