Howdy folks,

Looking to vent somewhere -- bad day today.  My mother is in the hospital and
is not doing well at all.  I've had to call the paramedics twice this week to
take her to the hospital and they finally admitted her last night.  Her
primary care physician called me at noonish to confirm my suspicions of an
unfortunate prognosis.  They are expecting that she will live no longer than
six months on the outside.  I suspect less since I'm sure she will halt
chemotherapy now.  She has been too sick, and to prolong her life for a
couple of months with the promise of nothing but additional agony makes no
sense.  What she does is her decision, of course.  I will certainly support
her in it.

Unfortunately, Mom didn't realize the prognosis until a social worker came by
her room tonight to discuss hospice.  That is how my Mom found out; she
really didn't know she was actually going to die before.  She thought she had
a chance with chemotherapy.  I was too ill to go to the hospital today (I've
got bronchitis or something -- it's really making me feel horrible), and I
spoke with her on the phone right after the social worker left.  She was
highly distraught and I've never felt so helpless in my life.  I couldn't do
anything.

The kicker is that after I called to share this with my Aunt and Uncle, my
Uncle called me right back to ask if Mom had made the mortgage payment for
June.  If she were so much as an "hour late," he said, they would foreclose
and we would be out on the street.  I know this isn't true in any case, and
she is several months ahead of the payments anyway, and made the most recent
one a few days ago.  Nevertheless, I was livid that he could have the
audacity to upset me like that.  He wasn't satisfied to stop there, he
advised me to call my nephew and ask his advice about what to do.  My nephew
is 28 years old, I am 42.

What in the hell was he talking about (she asked rhetorically)?  As Captain
Binghamton used to ask that bumblehead Elroy, "What, what, what?"

There is inbreeding in my family; there must be.

So...I sit here tonight planning my next move.  I am certainly sure I won't
be asking my Uncle for assistance with that though, or seeking the advice of
a nephew who's diapers I once changed.

Thanks for listening -- now, back to your regularly scheduled CP program.

Betty.  Livid, confused, sick, exhausted but wide-awake Betty

Don't worry though.  I'm still everybody's Aunt or Grandmother I have
committed to being.  Unfortunately however, the operative word is
"committed."