I'm weighing the pros and cons of flying to England to visit Pat. Nolan forwarded an email from her dictated in the hospital, that is both optimistic (that's true Pat) and realistic. It's so truly considerate of her to want to leave people feeling good, if she dies. Maya suggested that I make the trip to be with Patin these difficult days. So if I go, I might as well go to Holland to see Martien, Jan and the kids as well as Quita and Frank. I don't want to leave it till it's too late. We never know when our time is up.

Time is running out for my loved ones and they are slipping away. It's leaving me feeling so isolated, because as they go, they take a piece of me with them. My peers, my comrades, my friends, we lived a common history and shared similar values. The world for us was a familiar but different place than the world of our children now. Who will know me when my contemporaries are gone? I don't want to be the last man standing.

With Julie again silent in her medicated stroke state, I wonder how long she can hang on this way? How many traumas can one brain survive and what will be the ultimate cost? As she is lost to herself, she is lost to me as well. I'm so glad we had such a great weekend a while back. We looked at old photos, exhibition announcements and reviews and most enjoyable of all - the homemade birthday and Christmas cards that Maya and I made for her. We sat up in her studio, looked at our memorabilia together, laughed and reminisced. We had a great time. Jerzy was in France and she was very happy with Jackie looking after her.

Regarding the studio nastiness, It's occurred to me in irony that Gail didn't need to sack me at all. Given the change of circumstances, I will have to pull out of the studio anyway. The demands on my time due to these grave developments, makes sculpting thrice weekly, a luxury I can't afford. If she had been a little more tolerant and patient, I would have left in a week anyway, without the hurt and anger I'm feeling. Being told to leave the studio after one misunderstanding has been hard to digest. I do suspect Gail's motives. Her real agenda was to clear me out when her classes filled up because she didn't need me any more. I was the financial fallback if the classes didn't fill up.

To chuck me out because she doesn't need my money after all, is so unprofessional and possibly unethical. But by getting rid of me because she can't work with me frees her of guilt. It makes it my fault. So here I am, the offending party when I should be offended. It's a text book "blame the victim" strategy and it really hurts. Women can be very cruel to each other. Some of my deepest wounds over the years were served up by women.

A kinder, gentler perspective.

In my last post, I seem to come down hard on Jerzy. I wish to temper that with some thoughts about his devotion to Julie throughout this terribly taxing time since Julie's first stroke in 2001. That stroke nearly took her from us and after a very long hospitalization she was transferred to rehab and finally home. She was partially paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair. The stroke didn't affect her cognitive ability, speech, and she was still Julie but with a mobility problem. Jerzy did everything he could to make her life as pleasant as possible. The house was retrofitted with safety controls, the garden was landscaped to allow her access in the wheelchair and an elevator was installed to take Julie up to the studio. Daycare workers were hired as well as a regular physiotherapist but over the years Jerzy is the principal caregiver.

He is now over 80 and becoming infirm himself. The 24 hour on-call role is wearing him out and it is reflected in his mood swings. His devotion to her has been astonishing given how selfish he had been throughout their marriage. He loved Julie in his fashion but always needed to be in control. He could be profoundly unpleasant when his control was threatened. This quality has made it almost impossible for him to receive advice, or assistance from anyone. He is a philosophical materialist who can't draw upon any wells of inner faith for respite. His arrogance over the years has left very few friends or confidants. He adores his children and they are his only support. This places them in a very difficult position, because as his children, they are not his peers. He can shut them down in a nano-second. So they are asked for advice on the one hand and ignored on the other. As a materialist, Jerzy puts inordinate faith in doctors and other medical professionals who often don't know Julie or see her as we do. Common sense sometimes suffers because of that as does her quality of life.

Now all these strengths and failings are merging into a tired old man who is wearing out, can't control events and most troubling for him, I'm sure, he is losing his self-control. He feels helpless and guilty about this. Guilt makes a cruel companion when you can't ask for help. His position is so very difficult and I feel a deep sadness for him but I can't provide him help because he dislikes me too much to allow it. I can be available if I'm needed and I'll do whatever is necessary for Julie's well being. She is the one that matters the most and I'll accept Jerzy's contradictions and rudeness as long as she needs me.

A not so happy weekend.

Nov. 8th, 2009

A not so happy weekend filled with anguish.
A lot has happened to turn my world upside down since last Thursday. Just when I thought I was entering a happy phase, doing sculpture again, enjoying good health and freedom from worry, all hell broke loose.

Thursday, an email arrived to inform me that my dear friend of 55 years, Pat, has spinal cancer and we don't know the prognosis yet. Devastating news. She has always been one of life's joyful people.

Then the phone call Friday morning telling me to move out of the studio I had just moved into less than a month ago. What the?
Moving on to Friday afternoon and looking forward to a weekend of fun in Toronto with my other friend of 50 years, Julie. I arrived at Julie's house to find she had suffered a third stroke and instead of going to a music launch, I watched her being taken away to hospital.

Saturday, with a heavy heart, I went to a book launch as planned because the author, another old friend, was expecting me. There I met Maya, Glenn and Mildred who also got bad news about a friend who happened to be in the same hospital as Julie. What was meant to be a happy reunion of friends, was distinctly lacking in the happy department. We went on to the hospital to visit Julie and were appalled to see her decline. Words can't describe our feelings. After two hours we left and decided we needed to eat before hitting the road.

That was the best part of the entire weekend - delicious Vietnamese food.
Throughout this tragic weekend, Glenn was a brick for Maya and a very stable presence for me as well.
Everyone can behave well during life's bright moments, but it's the dark moments that are the test, and he certainly passed.

I decided to return to Peterborough, early on Sunday because I was serving no useful purpose in Toronto. I couldn't bear to go back to the hospital and I couldn't stay with Jerzy in the house. He would rather suffer than have me help him so I serve no useful purpose.

Our mutual antipathy had us spend most of the time in separate rooms and the conversations we did have were "correct". It is impossible to speak honestly because Jerzy only wants to hear his own words. I now really understand why his adult children are so careful with him.

When I arrived on Friday, I found Jerzy, Julie and Claudia (Julie's caregiver) at the dining room table. Julie was slumped forward in her wheelchair half asleep and Claudia was trying to keep her awake. Immediately Jerzy asked me to assess the situation because she couldn't stay awake. She smiled pleasantly and answered yes to everything. She knew me and was happy when I arrived, but didn't know my name. She said yes to all questions.
Claudia: "Do you know who's here?
Julie: "Yes"
C: What is her name?
J: (smiling) Yes"

This went on repeatedly with little progress. Jerzy asked again if I thought she had a stroke. I looked at drowsy, inability to speak, head falling forward and answered, yes it looks like a stroke to me. But, I added, although she can't speak she does understand, she nods and places more emphasis on some yeses than others. Claudia thought she could be exhausted and didn't get enough sleep. What to do? Jerzy wanted the answers a doctor can give. I'm no doctor. I suggested we weigh the pros and cons of keeping her home and observing her carefully, or sending her to hospital for the CTScan and MRI that can answer the medical questions. Julie hates hospitals. The experience will set her back, on the other hand, she could get worse at home. Both choices involve risk.

In the meantime, lets ask Julie what she wants. She can't talk says Jerzy. Yes she can says I. "Julie can you squeeze my hand, once for yes, two for no?" "Yes" says Julie and proceeds to demonstrate. Do you want to go to the hospital? "No". OK that was clear. Then Jerzy breaks down, weeps and says he can't take this any more. I don't blame him. He's the principal caregiver and the burden is growing more stressful as he ages. This adds a new level of stress to the discussion when David arrives. We go around the issues again and David favours the hospital. We ask Julie again and this time she says yes. All the while, she is sipping tea and eating bites of croissant that Claudia feeds her.

Now, what hospital? Jerzy favours Sunnybrook because she survived the first stroke there. I know she hates and fears Sunnybrook but liked the Toronto General where she went after her second stroke. So we ask her where she prefers to go. She clearly indicates the TG. Then Jerzy says we need to wait to hear from Tania, who is at a concert, before taking action. At which point I almost lost it because the point of the hospital at all is speedy intervention. David swung whichever way the argument went, but did finally make a decision to get her to hospital now and not wait for Tania. Meanwhile I had given Julie her magnifying glass to bang on the table when she needed to go to the bathroom. She banged it and was taken to the toilet.

Claudia had to go to her next patient and was running late, so I drove her. In the car she confided that on Thursday, Jerzy was verbally abusive to Julie and that Julie was very shaken by it. Julie told her that when he got angry before she could walk away, but now in the wheelchair she has to sit and take it. She added "I want to just disappear". Claudia hinted that he's much worse since he came back from his vacation in France. Julie was much happier and doing better while he was away.

Anyway, to bring this to an end, Julie was transported to hospital in the car and was rushed into the ER. She was CTed and indeed she was having a bleed in the left frontal lobe which affected the right brain speech center. Before she left she was already recovering some speech, so I believe it will come back. She was transferred the the Toronto Western Hospital stroke unit ICU and when I saw her there she was a catheterized, sedated zombie. She went into the hospital able to eat, drink, and urinate on her own. Now she's barely conscious, on tubes and completely helpless.

Today Jerzy, has adopted the position that he didn't want her to go to the hospital, but was outvoted. No wonder the kids prefer not to be asked for a decision, it can always be served up to them later, on a platter of guilt.

You can see why I had to leave. I was afraid of what I might say. I also didn't dare tell Jerzy that in the hospital, Julie said my name finally, and reacted to my saying good-bye. When a control freak can't take responsibility for his decisions get out of the way before he blames you.

Because I was not allowed to watch television when Jerzy was not home, I almost finished Joan's book.

Three women and me

Today I'm feeling slightly off kilter because of a variety of events ranging from serious to grave to irritating, that have left me feeling sad and angry. For confidentiality reasons, I can only refer to the events without identifying the persons involved.

First, a relative has been confiding in me over a period of years about the abuse she was experiencing from her former spouse. When their union ended she was supposed to sit quietly waiting for his return as she had done so often in the past. But she changed the game plan by deciding to move on with her life. He was most displeased with this turn of events and began stalking and harassing her. Over a period of four years he wrote degrading and slanderous letters to her, her parents, sisters, friends, colleagues and employer; he made countless threatening phone calls to her and the same people He would suddenly appear at her workplace. Protection orders, legal letters and police involvement would not stop this reign of terror. Every day for more than four years she was waiting for the next ambush. The sheer tenacity of the man is daunting.

Finally he was arrested and the case went to a preliminary hearing to decide if there was enough evidence to go to trial. This took place yesterday. The plaintiff decided to represent himself so that he could have the twisted satisfaction of questioning his victim himself. So for an entire day she was subjected to his loaded questions dripping with sexual innuendo as he attempted to discredit and humiliate her. She withstood the barrage with the aid of the Crown running interference and conducted herself with dignity. But it was a shattering experience.

In her attempt to protect herself through the legal system, that same system forced her to be re-victimized by her tormentor. She was in essence, raped by the judicial process because the accused had the right to represent himself. In cases of sexual abuse, harassment and stalking the accused should not have that right. He should be represented by counsel to remove the element of direct intimidation. She stood firm, held her ground and I'm so very proud of her. If she wins and the judge finds there is enough evidence, she will have to face her tormentor yet again at trial. Is it any wonder that sexual abuse victims are reluctant to press charges?

The second concern that I'm struggling with is the ill health of my dearest and oldest friend. She and I have been friends since middle school (junior high)and we never lost touch over the years when she moved to London and I to New York. We stood up for each other at each of our weddings and as we moved on in life we stayed close. Now she's fighting spinal cancer, and is undergoing chemo-therapy in a London hospital as I write. I'm told that although the pain has been terrible, she is not in pain now. It is so frustrating to feel this helpless and it is making me angry.

So here I sit writing this because there is nothing else I can do for two women who are both fighting for life in very different ways. There is something I can do however, to be more mindful of others in the moment.

Case in point: I came back from sculpture today, annoyed by a misunderstanding that took place in the studio. It was about not having enough space. Gail is under a lot of pressure to get enough work ready for a major craft show in a week. She needs space for her stuff and her classes are getting busy. It is her studio. I made the mistake of bringing in more supplies yesterday, and storing them there. I could have left them at home until I needed them, but in my enthusiasm I wanted to share my idea with her. It involved glass bricks for sculpture bases that I believed Gail would also find useful.

She told me I had to remove them today and I responded defensively. I was thinking, "my good intentions are not appreciated" and she was thinking "why can't this woman see there is no room". It was an awkward moment compounded by the presence of a third party. I felt like I had been a naughty girl. She also cut my days down to two from three because there are more students than anticipated. It really is damned hard to work with so many people in the limited space. It would have been received better however, if we had discussed this privately, but it's done. In reality, with studio time three days a week and physio twice a week I was concerned that I might be overdoing it. Taking Tuesday as a personal day may be better for me in the long run.

Driving home I remembered my dear friend dealing with Chemo, and I realized how trivial this misunderstanding was. I'm lucky to have a corner in the world to be creative for two days a week and a friend who is willing to share it with me.

Hold the door ajar.

This was first posted on LJ in response to a question raised about having children. The question was posed by Maya and the respondents were mostly young women in her circle of friends. I have met these women and know some quite well through the use of LJ. I love them in all their diversity and intelligence. They are precisely the women I would hang with if I were of their generation. They have spunk, character, creativity and generosity and to a woman they don't want children nor do they believe they would make good mothers.

They love and take care of animals, love their friends, help each other in a nano second as the need arises. They all care deeply about the planet and take steps to make their environment as good and healthy for others as for themselves. It is precisely because they have these gifts that their comments have left me feeling so very sad.

I admire all these young women and I believe the future will be in good hands with them in charge. I respect their choices and I pass no judgment, but I do regret that we are losing the opportunity to have children brought into the world by the best and the brightest of women. If the bright, strong women reject motherhood we will be facing a future of offspring descended from the unthinking, the unmindful, the uncreative and unimaginative. Not an optimistic outlook for the human gene pool. Not a happy prospect to contemplate.

In motherhood they fear what they would have to give up, the loss of solitude, ambition, independence, spontaneity and they express no confidence in their ability to nurture even as they are doing it now with their pets, partners, and friends. These are all valid fears. No parent ever sprang forth fully formed with nurturing skills. Every responsible parent thinks they are not adequate to the responsibility.

I don't think anyone can accuse me of not living a full life. I have done a lot in the world and for the world. My life has been hard, and sad and wonderful. I can assert without a shadow of a doubt, that having and raising Maya has been my greatest and most rewarding experience. I seem to have had a talent for motherhood. It was and remains my constant joy.

Oh, I was afraid. I had no idea what to do. I feared babies and was not very "maternal". I didn't have any yearnings when friends had babies, and I was very ambitious and independent. Then suddenly, I was ready (the right man helps), I got pregnant and nine months later I was a Mom. Elliot and I bumbled forth with hope, love and a new baby that we feared we would break. But it all came together one day at a time. It turned out to be the most creative, innovative, frustrating and challenging journey: a real trip, Elliot would say. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Motherhood's greatest gift has been to get me out of myself. It made me realize that I'm not the centre of the universe and that there is a more important reason to be living than just me.

At the risk of sounding nauseating, parenting showed me a love greater than any I'd ever known. That I'm capable of such a love is awesome in its truest meaning.

All I can suggest to those self-doubting young women, "is live your lives to the fullest, realize your dreams, but don't close the door so firmly on motherhood just yet".