I don’t really know where to start. This year so far has been extremely difficult for me, but there is finally some light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like an explanation for my absence- online and in various communities of which I am a part- is long overdue. Bear with me, because it’s a lot.
One of my partners (J) is currently working a project near Seattle, which requires him to be up there Sunday night through Thursday evening. My other partner (H) has been on the East Coast taking care of his 89 year-old father (P) who has been in and out of the hospital. For the last couple months, I’ve been managing two households with three cats split between them, and all without any of the normal support I have from one or both partners.
In late March, for the third time in four years, we got a phone call that P’s health was failing. Each time H has flown out the next day to take care of him and has essentially been a 24-hour caregiver for months on end. It has been brutally difficult, but we promised P we wouldn’t put him in a elderly care facility. When it was the end, he wanted to die peacefully at home. But the old man was stubborn as hell. He was a fighter. The first two times (double hip replacement, pacemaker) he made remarkable recoveries.
In the midst of this, I was also preparing for Kinkfest, which took place over Easter weekend. I was the Opening Ceremonies director and emcee again this year after a two-year hiatus. I felt a great deal of pressure to honor my community with something special, since there wasn’t much fanfare over KF’s 20th anniversary last year. Overall, it was a success- as the OC director, I think I did a good job. But due to a couple major problems beyond my control, the hours before the ceremony turned into a shitshow and my performance as emcee suffered because of it. I felt flat, rushed, and unprepared. Always sucks when I feel like I didn’t give the performance I’m capable of. Of course, I’m sure that few people knew I was off, but *I* knew it.
Meanwhile, P’s prognosis turned grim. He had multiple issues, including an e-coli (!) infection that sent him into sepsis. The week before Kinkfest, H and P jointly made the decision to take P home from the hospital and transition to in-home hospice care. We knew when they did that it was only a matter of time. Friends and family came by to sit with him, tell stories, reminisce, and say goodbye, even though P was fairly unresponsive by that time.
I wanted to fly out that week, but H insisted I focus on Kinkfest. There is apparently a rule in the Jewish faith that life takes precedence over death. You’re not supposed to cancel celebratory, life-affirming plans to mourn a death. So I stayed. And Opening Ceremonies was a success, though like I said before, I wasn’t happy with my performance. Then on Saturday afternoon while I was still processing my Opening Ceremonies disappointment, I found out P had passed.
I’d already purchased a plane ticket for the following week, but I missed the funeral and still haven’t forgiven myself for not insisting I go for at least a few days before Kinkfest. I wanted to say goodbye. But I soothe myself with the knowledge that we gave P what he wanted. At the very end, he died at home amidst those who loved him. I’m leaving Thursday for another week-long trip to help H finish clearing out P’s apartment. It’s looking like settling P’s estate will take months, if not years.
As if all of this wasn’t enough…Right before we got the call that sent H back East, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease, an autoimmune disease that attacks the thyroid. While it’s not exactly great news, it is a relief, because it’s treatable and explains the multitude of health issues I’ve been struggling with over the last few years. I chose not to talk much about them, because I didn’t realize they were all related. I thought, “well this must be what aging is like. I guess it hit me early, and I’m just broken now.”
I’m glad I have answers, but I’m also facing the reality that I’ll be on medication for the rest of my life. That’s terrifying given the state of our healthcare system. I’m in the process of educating myself about my condition and figuring out what, besides medication, I can do to feel better. It doesn’t help that I also managed to catch whatever cold/chest crud that’s floating around and haven’t felt 100% (which isn’t even really 100% due to the Hashimoto’s) in weeks.
I think most people see me as strong and resilient. I am. I’m often the person my friends and family turn to for support. But right now, and for the last few months, I have been overwhelmed. I can’t handle being in large crowds or around people I don’t know very well. I either cry at everything or feel numb. The few friends with whom I’ve shared what’s going on have offered to help in whatever ways they can, but I can’t even manage the emotional labor of delegating tasks.
So I just kind of have to disappear for a while. Please don’t worry about me. I am ok. I will be ok. I will try to get out and about when/if I have the energy, but please understand all social outings are game-time decisions for me right now. I’m not really logging in for phone sex calls unless I have an appointment booked, so please email me if you’re looking to schedule a call. That, at least, I can manage from the comfort of home.
If you’re bothering to read all of this, it means you probably care about me, and for that I am truly grateful. What can you do to help me? Make sure you have a will, and that your friends and family know your wishes. Hug your loved ones. Eat something yummy. Celebrate summer. I love you, and I’ll be back when I can.
T