i don't even know what to call this.

so, earlier today, before i headed up to see mom and jerr-bear, i had told you that i asked the universe to give me an easy visit.

not only did the universe, or god, or whoever, NOT give me an easy visit, i was given the worst, most terrible, upsetting, heart-shredding visit i could possibly have dreamed up.
so far, the steroids haven't done a goddamned thing.

mom is barely eating. she falls asleep constantly. she is totally unable to focus on anything. she can't remember what she's in the middle of doing. (jerr-bear wanted to change the cartridge for the fax/printer, so mom started listlessly looking through a stack of papers. either she doesn't remember what a fax cartridge looks like or she forgot what she was looking for and just wanted to help.) she's having some problems with her vision now.

she's not really attached to reality at this point. she told me this weird story as i was leaving, about how she'd have to tell the little black hen to unpack her bags, because she'd wanted to come with me. i was confused, and asked if she meant their little black hen, violet, who really likes people. mom wasn't talked about her, though. she mentioned some other chicken names that i'd never heard of, and referred to something we had done last night. i started crying and told her that i hadn't been there last night. she was so genuinely surprised, like i was teasing her. i said, no, i'd only arrived a few hours before. she said no, and told me that last night she and i had gone for a drive in the hills, looking for the email dispatch center. i told her i was sorry, but i hadn't spent the night last night, and that never happened. i suggested that maybe it was a dream. she looked so befuddled and half shrugged. she kept asking me if i needed a ride anywhere, because i guess she forgot i have a car and my license.

the reason for my trip up there was to gather her bills, so we can get her set up with a bill paying service, but because she's so disoriented, and her memory is non-existent, she didn't really have any idea where anything was, and she forgot what we were looking for mid-search, every time. she kept handing me random pieces of paper, in hopes that they were what i needed. i maintained my breezy, 'it's not a big deal that my mom is gone' attitude and cheerily thanked for, but said that wasn't quite it. inside, i feel like the dream of my mom living through her cancer and becoming herself again, somehow, died today. i spent a half hour crying on the floor, hands over my face, my mom's gaze fuzzed in the middle distance. we talked about calling a hospice, just in case, and it made mom sad that we had to talk about her death like it was imminent. it's fucking exhausting trying to pretend i don't think she'll probably die soon.

i spoke to an old friend of my mom's, who mom reconnected with when her and jerr-bear moved up to mendocino. this friend is a hospice nurse herself, and we talked frankly about my mom's death. she is very nice and very supportive, and she said a lot of really helpful things, but i also found her saying this semi-meaningless positive affirmations, that paint a broad inspirational portrait without actually touching on reality. yeah, i do need to find a way to grow from this, and take it one day at a time. but that doesn't help me right now, with this minute, which feels like my chest is going to implode from sadness and missing my mom.

it's so fucking cruel to take my mom away from me before she's even dead. brain tumors are fucking monsters. what the fuck kind of loving god makes people endure this kind of incurable anguish?

i joined a message board for the spouses of brain tumor patients. it's been making me feel less alone. i actually haven't posted anything on it yet, but just reading other people's stories, which are like a hundred different versions of the story i'm living, makes me feel less alone. i guess sexual deviants aren't the only ones to benefit from the wide scope of the internet. me and the furries, reaping the bountiful benefits of modernity.

i've got therapy tomorrow.
too bad i won't have anything to talk about, huh?