Dia on 26/2/2012 at 04:39

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My brother is miserable and has been for years. Unfortunately, he deals with his misery by drowning it in vodka, beer, and pills. But he is a survivor: he's been hospitalized about 9 different times for varying problems (over the last 10 yrs.), and once he was in such bad shape that my mom had a priest administer last rites (though I don't think they call it that anymore). But each time he survived against all odds ....... and then went right back to the bottle. It's seemed to my family that Dirk has a death wish, but is too much of a survivor to allow death to take him without a fight. Regardless, it makes no sense to me. Our dad (at the time of his death) had been a recovering alcoholic for over 30 years and I've been recovering for over 15, so I know that you can't force someone to stop - they have to want to do it.

The tube-ripping thing is all about Dirk just wanting to get the hell out of the hospital and back home to where his booze and pills are. His addictions are so ingrained at this point that it seems his body goes on automatic the minute he starts going into withdrawal. Even though he's semi-conscious, his body takes over and starts trying to get him back home to where his stash is. It's the sheer determination of an alcoholic/addict and it's unbelievably frightening to watch.



There are laws that prevent people from helping to end other people's misery. They're not monsters Sg; they have hope and believe that Life is precious (and like I said, there are serious laws against euthanasia). As awful as a person's suffering is, no one wants to be responsible for taking the life of another, not just because it's against the law, but rumor has it that stuff like that pisses God off somethin' fierce. And as much suffering as my brother has gone through, as much pain, I still wouldn't have the stones to end that suffering myself. I just couldn't do it.



That's the problem SE: my brother is so fucking out of it that all he can barely get out occasionally is 'don't' and 'no' when the medical personnel touch him and his protests are being chalked up to withdrawal dementia. He's not coherent enough to be released to care for himself, so the doctors and nurses just do what they're supposed to do, which is try to save his life. My sister and I figure that by the time he becomes coherent and lucid again, the docs & nurses won't have a chance to ask him what he wants because by then he'll have made yet another hospital escape sometime in the wee hours and will have gone home to what he calls his sanctuary.

While my sis & I were at the ICU today the ICU doctor came in & told us they'd taken Dirk off the Ativan drip they had him on to ease his withdrawal symptoms. Scary to know that of all the addictions, only alcohol withdrawal can actually kill you. But then the doctor said our brother would be transferred to a different ward later this evening and that's when my sister and I started getting that old feeling of dread. They can't put him back in the oncology ward since the biopsy results aren't in yet and they can't prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that Dirk does indeed have cancer, so he'll probably go to the general ward. The same ward he was in the last time he just up and walked out of before the hospital could help him. They don't restrain patients who want to leave in that ward; even though the patient is in such bad shape. Sad, but true.

If the biopsy results come back showing that the cancer (or whatever the hell it may be, though the medical personnel we've talked to all agree that it sure as hell 'looks like cancer') is treatable, and my brother refuses treatment, then yes, we will respect his wishes. But we've got a terrible feeling that one way or another this just isn't going to end well.

Thanks for all the support and encouraging words. I really, truly do appreciate them and all of you.

fett on 26/2/2012 at 18:46

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Sorry to hear all this, Dia. Seems like we often spend so much time waiting for things to get "back to normal" the years go by and we realize this stuff is the *new* normal. I recommend listening to more Beatles and drinking copiously when you can afford to. I walked out onto the rocks of the Atlantic two days ago, nothing between me and Portugal. I felt really small, and it felt really good to realize what a blip on the radar all of this is in the grand scheme of the universe. You know I don't mean that in any way that denigrates the pain of this stuff. Just that context and perspective of how objectively fleeting it all is anyway can sometimes be a comfort rather than a fear.

Okay, now I sound all emo, so I'll shut up. Love you, tho. :)

Dia on 27/2/2012 at 23:26

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Muz: About 6 months ago Dirk had stomach surgery to repair an actual hole in his stomach. The hospital was only able to keep him admitted for two days after the surgery and had to release him as he was already dressed and staggering out of the ward toward the awaiting taxi he'd called to take him home. Basically, he released himself. That night he was so drunk he didn't even know where he was and within 9 days my sister and I had to call an ambulance because when we found him in his home, he was unresponsive and delirious. Dirk spent the next 10 days in the hospital going thru withdrawal and had to be restrained lest he do more damage to the stitches in his incision site. Within 3 days after returning home, he was drunk again and two months later we went through the same scenario all over again. So no, Dirk's obsession with returning home has nothing to do with fear and/or anxiety, but everything to do with getting home to his stashes of booze & pills. Trust me, my sister and I have been through this with Dirk too many times to count.

But yes, our dad was a 'man's man' type of father and boys weren't supposed to cry. So that type of upbringing is partially why Dirk won't accept help of any kind, I will admit. Only the alcoholic Dirk just wants to get the next drink as fast as possible and start drowning out his woes, and he can't do that while in a hospital bed.

I just got home from the hospital: his oncologist told us that Dirk has a particularly agressive form of cancer (small cell). She said that if his cancer remains untreated, Dirk may live for several days to a couple of weeks; but if treated - involving 4 sessions of chemo spanning 6 months - he might live almost another 12 months. Inevitably though, the cancer will spread, as it is, in her words, incurable. As in 'can not be cured, ever', no matter how many chemo treatments they inflict on him. The oncologist tried interviewing Dirk this morning to determine if he was mentally capable of making the decision as to whether or not he wanted to accept treatment, but she left his room undecided. Dirk didn't know where he was, what year it was, or who our current president is, but the oncologist claims it may be the drugs he's been receiving for pain that are clouding his mind. My sister and I tried to tell her that Dirk hasn't been in his right mind for the last five years and really isn't mentally competent, but she's leaning towards starting chemo treatments asap. Tam & I just stood there with our mouths hanging open. FFS!!! We tried explaining the facts of life according to Dirk to her, but all she'd do was refer us to the hospice service affiliated with the hospital so we could prepare for the bitter end ..... albeit down the road, if she has her way.

Please understand; we love Dirk and because we love him we want his suffering to be as short-lived as possible. Both of us would give our lives if it meant saving his, God's truth. But he has no one to go home to, has just been informed he lost his job due to too many unapproved absences (not that that bit of news actually sank in, mind you), and now there's an arrest warrant out on him for breaking the rules of his probation because he admitted to his probation officer over the phone that he was drunk and loaded with his 'feelgood pills' just before he was rushed to the hospital last week (once again, unresponsive and delirious).

What the oncologist is suggesting is that Dirk's suffering be prolonged for another year; and that's if they can get him healthy enough in (physical) rehab so that the chemo treatments don't kill him. Because the oncologist is all excited that though Dirk's cancer is incurable, it 'responds well to treatment and will give him maybe another year of life'. And for what?!!! So that he can spend his last year on this earth drinking his life away, mixing and matching pills that would, individually, bring an elephant to its knees, and having one or both sisters call an ambulance to take him to the hospital every six weeks because he's on the verge or in the process of OD'ing? That's not even considering the pain and misery Dirk will suffer from the chemo itself over the next six months - if he makes it that long without accidentally killing himself with booze & pills or dying from the effects of the chemo itself. Is that the kind of life any sane person would want to live?

Forgive me for sounding bitter, but that's not the way I believe my brother would choose to live out his last days; at least, not if he were in his right mind - which he isn't. When our dad was diagnosed with pretty much the same type of cancer at the end of 2008, Dirk was right there with the rest of the family in agreeing that Dad wouldn't want to suffer more than he had by having his last few months prolonged through chemo treatments. Only Dirk didn't appoint anyone as his power of attorney, so the oncologist & general practitioner are taking the responsibility of pretty much making that decision for him. The oncologist suggested that Dirk might change for the better, as some people do after having a 'near-death experience'. We told her about the last five near-death experiences our brother has had in the past 10 years and how those experiences only seemed to send him on an ever-widening downward spiral of self-destruction. I think the oncologist went deaf about that time, or so it seemed to us.

The oncologist is saying that she and the GP doctor will interview Dirk once more to determine whether or not he's sound of mind. She had my sister and I meet at the hospital today to do our own interview with our brother so we could give her our opinion as to whether or not we felt he was capable of making such a serious decision. But when we gave her our opinion that Dirk was NOT mentally capable she veritably ignored us and continued to prattle on about how glad she was that Dirk's particular type of cancer is 'so very receptive to treatment, you know'. Even though it IS incurable, remember. Lady, take off your rose-colored glasses and do a fucking reality check.

Tam & I know if Dirk is admitted to the rehab center, once he's fit enough he'll just leave and that will be that because his alcoholic self is in control, as it has been for so very long. There'll be nothing anyone can do to stop him. I've never felt so damned helpless in my life.

As I said before; one way or another this won't end well. And there's not a fucking thing my sister or I can do about any of it. We know that Dirk wouldn't want this if he were the brother we knew five years ago, but no one's listening to us.

Dia on 27/2/2012 at 23:56

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Ya know Al, that thought had crossed our minds almost simultaneously - about the $$$$ side of it, that is. But Tam & I had to stop discussing that because our respective blood pressures were rising and we were already feeling angry and frustrated. Another one of those facts of life that we wish didn't exist. And no, we don't feel the oncologist is being realistic at all. Regardless of his filthy, lonely home, the loss of his job and the new arrest warrant, our brother will be in for many months more of pain and suffering only because that oncologist is excited that his cancer, though incurable, 'responds well to treatment'. It's horrifying to know that 'quality of life' doesn't even enter into any of her equasions.

It's a mad world imo.

paganinio on 28/2/2012 at 06:20

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so if I never get along with anyone, I wouldn't feel sad about anyone getting sick or dying, ever.

Sounds like a good plan.:tsktsk: