Today, I ran into another person who shares my sisters' opinions that one should never google for information pertaining to a serious medical condition. I don't get it. Better to be happily clueless, than to worry yourself over ugly truths. This does not resonate with me.
My father died 12 years ago this June. His heart attacked him and he slid from the seat of the tractor he was driving, then fell to the ground where the tractor and mulcher ran over him. The investigating officer told the family that my father had hit his head on a tree branch, died, and then fell lifeless to the ground where he was mulched. Bullshit. I was the one that was adamant about obtaining a copy of the autopsy report, and after going over the report, it was obvious from the condition of the body that no one could truly know that my dad had died from hitting his head on a tree branch. After revealing this information to my brother-in-law, he confronted the investigator, who admitted that he'd lied to us in an effort to make things easier for us to handle. But here's the deal: my feelings, then and now, are that if my dad had to go through it (whether he was coherent or not), then the least I could do is know the truth - for him (no matter how ugly or painful).
Another example. My son, Wolfie, was born premature and shortly thereafter he had to undergo an eye exam for retinopathy. The nurses suggested that I stay in the waiting room while the exam was done, but I was having none of that. There was no way that I was going to hand my teeny baby over to some stranger (even a medical provider) and let them go into another room to do a test that I didn't understand nor had any idea what was involved. So, baby Wolfie and I entered the exam room together and seated in a chair in the dark. Wolfie wrapped tightly in his blanket to prevent him from wriggling too much and I held him firmly and as close to me as possible (still allowing the doctor to do his thing). Doc put this wire thing into his eye socket that was meant to hold Wolfie's lids open while the exam was performed. Immediately Wolfie began to scream, but it was what followed that truly turned my stomach upside-down. The doctor then put a device into Wolfie's eye socket to pop the eyeball up and out just enough for him to do something (I don't know what) behind the eyeball. Of course, Wolfie was screaming so loudly I was certain everyone in the building could hear his terror and would run for the door. All I could do was watch, and I just kept telling myself that if my precious babe had to undergo this horrible text, the least I could do is go through it with him. The test of course completed, and I was finally able to hug and comfort Wolfie until he felt safe again. The nurses awarded their compliments to me for handling it the way I had and informed me that most parents can't deal with viewing the exam.
Ugly is ugly. I'm not going to run from it (unless it's a nasty brown cricket - those I loathe). But if my beloved family member must endure it - then so shall I !
This is why I had to research mom's cancer. I had to know the ugliest part of it before I was blindsided by something. So, while I spent 24-hours in stressful crying over a possible Stage IV diagnosis when we had not gotten that diagnosis, I still don't regret my investigation because I walked away more informed and I now know some of the things that will run through my head later, when I do have to deal with losing her.
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My cricket phobia? That began many, many, many years ago (before the discovery of YouTube). I was babysitting two young boys who informed me that a cricket was jumping around inside the apartment. Thinking nothing much of it, I grabbed some toilet paper, scooped the bugger up, and dropped him into the toilet - flushed. Later that evening, the boys inform me that the cricket was still in the toilet and that something strange was going on. We went to look. This nasty brown cricket was kicking around (alive) in the water and seemed to be birthing a disgusting wiggly worm that seemed so long that it had to have been the sole life force for this cricket as there would not have been room in him for anything else. Ugh! I was immediately traumatized and sick to my stomach! I had no idea what was going on except that these insects were alien-esque and dirty! From that day on, I have exercised my lungs during the dreaded cricket season.
And this is how I am. Jumping between topics that have absolutely no relation.
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