Friday, July 25, 2008

Ok, so it's been a while. Let me tell you about my week, and maybe everyone will understand. It's a long story, so make sure that you have the comfy chair. It all started actually last week. My mother has had a live-in boyfriend for about 5 or so years. He is a wonderful person, and my mother truly deserves the relationship that they have together, after many years of heartache.
He suffers from advanced stage emphysema, and is on an oxygen concentrator to sleep at night. Unfortunately, he still makes the choice to smoke, although in his defense, he has drastically reduced that. Last week he had a MI (a heart attack to the uninitiated) which has resulted in CHF (Congestive Heart Failure). He is home, but weak & essentially able to mope around the house but not much else. This glimpse of mortality in someone that I have a great deal of respect alarms me, in addition to the concern that I have for someone I love.
I have grandparents in the late 70s & early 80s that have been the cornerstones of my life. My parents were busy constantly when I was growing up, and both my older sister and myself practically raised ourselves, with the help of our grandparents. They taught me to love the outdoors. I caught my first fish with them. I bagged deer with them. We shared blood & sweat together. They have been there for me when no one else would. In recent years, my grandfather has shown a touch of senility setting in (he's 81) but other than that the two of them have been relatively healthy. Throughout last weekend, I kept thinking "if something as small as the head of a pin (size of most clots in a MI) can practically level someone as strong as my mother's boyfriend, than what would something like that do to my Grandfather?" Most certainly, it would likely kill him. The thought of losing my grandfather is devastating. He has been that much of a cornerstone in my life.
In addition to all above, I have had crises at work. On my shift in the machine shop, we are a close knit group of five. One of the five has been going through a great deal of trials in his life. I’m not going to delve into those, out of respect for his privacy. Let’s just say that it would break most people. Well, Tuesday he was headed to commit suicide when, fortunately, a friend intervened and brought him to our local Psyche ward. He is now getting the help that he needs. I keep wondering if I could have done something different. I realize that armchair quarterbacking is useless, but it doesn’t stop me from doing it. It was obvious that he was depressed, and had occasional thoughts of suicide. I counseled him on getting help. I gave him numbers to counseling services & suicide hotlines. It still did no good. I keep wondering if I should have hauled his butt away the week before.
Part of the problem is reliving the past. The machine shop that I work for is a small, family owned business with about 60 employees. About 12 years ago, I had become a great friend with someone who worked there. We’ll call him K for now. The friendship was wonderful. We thought and acted alike, and I felt like I had found the big brother (K was about 20 years older than myself) I never had. We were inseparable. I even hiked Mt Katahdin (highest point in Maine) three times with his wife’s Girl Scout group.
However, K did suffer from depression at times. He had a severe back problem, and at the time, doctors simply threw pain medication at it, without prescribing treatment therapies. Over years, this regimen of narcotics and anti-inflammatories began to slowly change his personality. He began to exhibit some aspects of bi-polar disorder. He changed, and I, like others around him, either didn’t recognize it, or failed to act on it.
In September 2000, I went on my honeymoon to Orlando, FL. Before I left, I spoke with K because he was bummed he couldn’t go to the wedding. He asked if I could “squeeze him into my luggage”. Instead of seeing the plea for help, I thought he was joking. I left on a Sunday. Tuesday he committed suicide. To this day, I believe he chose that time and place because I wasn’t there. If I had been, I likely would have recognized his altered behavior and perhaps talked him out of it. After this episode, I began to withdraw slightly from my coworkers. To this day, I remain somewhat aloof from them because of this episode. We nearly had a repeat of that disaster, and on “my watch” so to speak.
So that’s been my week.

1 comment:

mainecrashed2 said...

Talking about suicide doesn't encourage it. Talking about suicide makes it less of a taboo subject that our society has made it. The more we put it out on the table, the less we fear the subject, the more likely we are to confront the fear and not silently give into it. Check out http://www.survivorsofsuicide.com/faq_suicide.shtml#14