Brain of Terror - WATCH TO THE END, THERE IS A SURPRISE!

PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT (FOR THOSE OF YOU IN OTHER PLACES THAN IN THIS AREA - SORRY!

     DO YOU KNOW THAT, IF YOU HAVE NO MEDICAL INSURANCE 

AFTER MARCH 31, 2014, 

YOU WILL HAVE TO

PAY PENALTY ?

     BECAUSE OF THAT, 

I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE THAT, 

NEXT SATURDAY, FEB. 15, 

AN AGENT OF THE COVERED CALIFORNIA 

WILL SET UP A TABLE AT 

THE BAY AREA FAMILY CHURCH 

TO ANSWER QUESTIONS AND TAKE APPLICATIONS. 

SHE WILL BE PRESENT THERE ONLY FROM 10 TO 11:30 AM 

ON THAT FIRST DAY. 

BAFC MEMBERS, PLEASE REFER TO THE E-MAIL

 THAT YOU'LL RECEIVE, FOR FURTHER INFORMATION. 

THE REST OF YOU CAN 

CALL ME, DINA TOYODA, AT (510)5821-1336.

CAN OR CAN'T?

     Sane or insane? Sad or happy? Can't or can do?

     When I pray for my children, for example, often a thought interferes: most people on this Earth pray for safety for their families and success in their ventures. Look, how much tragedy there is in the world! What makes me believe that God, or, as they call it in the Al Anon, my Higher Power, would consider satisfying my requests? 

     Whatever it is that moves me these days: inspiration, motivation, newly found belief in myself, makes me counter my own thinking: "I must trust that God will help me. I am not the same person who sat in front of the TV two years ago, empty and hurting from all the loss that I suffered. God supplied friends and acquaintances to give me good advice about finding new paths in life. He/She helped me collect my thoughts and ideas to start writing this blog and dare to offer my stories for a magazine to print. God led me to and convinced me to start this Weight management Program. Of course He/She are there for me!"

     Out of the insanity of my lifestyle, the uncontrolled hedonism that permeated my existence, I was able to create a very satisfying routine of putting the inner workings of my heart and mind on the paper. I started counselling sessions with Mr. P., and he brought me to Al Anon, where there is a promise of a new community, new friends. Was it God who did it?

     Perhaps, some small portion of my Higher Power is, really, MY higher power? I mean, the part of me that is untouched by bitterness and disappointment of the past, that was waiting dormant until I began to believe in myself again or got desperate enough to attempt new things. 

     It's so incredibly wonderful, to think that I have a potential for success! If it's not just myself that I rely on for new opportunities in life, and if it's not just God but also My OWN Higher Power that gives me strength to persevere in whatever I am doing, then I have a confidence in the good outcome for it. Don't you think so?

     

GOOD BYE, PAPA!

     

     I sat on the couch in front of the TV. What they said on the screen didn't matter. There was nothing in my mind except some inane song lines repeating themselves over and over again. My heart was empty too: either it was cold and unfeeling by nature or it was too terrified to acknowledge the loss.
     My father was gone. I only just recently realized, how great of a person he was, and now he was dead. I couldn't even say that I was all that good to him. I knew that I could've extended myself a little more to make him enjoy the last years of his life. Instead it was business as usual: I took care of him physically, but many times was too impatient or insensitive to listen to him a little more or to offer my love and appreciation in a deeper way.
     One morning, I found him on the floor of his room. I called the ambulance, put a pillow under his head and got dressed before the EMTs showed up. I was used to it already: he fell down a few times before. I waited for some time in the ER , then went to pick up Sonny from school.

     When I came back to the hospital, dad wasn't in the room. "He developed a bleed in his brain" - a nurse informed me, - "they took him for a CATscan".
     When the orderlies wheeled dad into the room, he was already exhibiting signs of intracranial bleeding: his tongue stuck out of his mouth in a grotesque way and left hand kept creeping up to his face again and again. I held on to this hand, trying to encourage him, but, even though I was not sure if he was conscious at all, his eyes looked terrified.
     He had to have an operation to relieve the pressure on his brain from the blood that collected inside the cranium. I sat in the hospital lobby by myself for hours, praying and singing the spiritual songs. Sometimes I would just repeat: "Breathe, papa, breathe!" Taka coldly told me on the phone, like he was making an appointment, that he will come to the hospital in the evening. I was so used to that attitude of: "I am making money for the family, don't bother me with anything else," that I didn't even think of telling him to come right over there instead.
     My pastor, who never showed any inclination to get involved in my troubles, told the church congregation later that he came to the hospital, couldn't find me or find out about dad's situation, so he talked to some other family in the lobby that was expecting a news

My pastor, Kevin T.

about their loved one. I was, probably, a few chair away, singing and praying. He sure didn't try very hard to find me!



At 10 pm, the surgeon came out to tell me that dad was alright. During the operation there was a time, when they couldn't ventilate him. At eighty nine years of age, the doctors, finally, found the reason for dad's constant battle with coughs and choking. His trachea was S-shaped! The doctors had to take some critical measures, but he was now out of the woods. Taka and Sonny arrived just then. I was too happy for dad, to complain about being left alone at such a crucial time For a couple of days my father stayed in the ICU. The nurses and doctors there showed remarkable dedication to their patients' welfare and recovery. Dad opened his eyes, talked and laughed with me, flirted with nurses. Then he went back to sleep.

         When he was brought to a room on the hospital floor, I came to visit him regularly and read Russian newspaper aloud or talked to him. He would whisper something to me in reply to my questions or squeeze my hand, but never fully awoke after that. The surgeon said that, most likely, his body needed time to recover, and then he would wake up.

     The hospital started to talk to me about making arrangements to transfer him to a convalescent home. Then, on Sunday afternoon, as I was driving to the hospital, a nurse called to tell me that father developed a pneumonia and was fighting for his life. 

     A day or two before that, I noticed that he went deeper into a slumber. He also started to grimace and pull his hand up to his face, as with an intracranial bleeding. To my inquiries, the doctor said that they checked him and found everything to be fine. 

     The picture at the ICU was horrible. Dad's whole body was convulsing, trying in vain to draw breath, but couldn't get enough air to sustain life.

     I insisted that a doctor should be present. They let me call him, but the bastard refused to come. He said that, dad might respond to the antibiotics that were administered to him, and there was no need to panic.This didn't happened. The nurse told me that there was no hope, dad's organs were beginning to shut down from the lack of oxygen.  

     I can't help but feel that  the hospital's staff was neglectful in my father's case. It's really a shame: they made such effort and spent so many resources to save him, only to let it all be wasted later! 

Sonny

     I called my sister in Denmark to tell her that dad was dying, and a friend, who called our pastor. He came this time.Taka showed up with Sonny, but didn't make any attempt to comfort me with a word or with a touch. Sonny looked at his father and me in confusion. I took his arm and drew him to me. What will he learn by watching his parents' relationship? Will he be as unfeeling and distant to his own wife?

     We agreed to discontinue life support soon after that. The nurse gave dad a shot of morphine to ease his suffering. Now we just needed to wait.

Taka in one of his "teaching" moods.

     Taka announced that he was, obviously, not needed there anymore. He left with Sonny (pastor went long before that). An hour or so later, Taka returned... to exchange cars, since he would need the one that I had at the hospital in the morning. I didn't try to say anything to him: if he didn't understand that he should've stayed with me, there was no use in teaching him!

     Dad became quiet after the morphine, hopefully, not feeling the pain anymore. I held his hand and sang and talked to him like before. I told him, how much we loved him, and how much he meant for us. In a few hours, his breathing came slower and slower and, finally, stopped. If someone doesn't believe in the existence of a soul, they should watch a person die. One minute it was my father on a bed in front of me. The next - it was only an empty shell. 

     I walked through the empty hospital hallways carrying and dropping dad's things which were returned to me. At home, Sonny hugged and cried with me. Taka attempted to pat me on the head, like I was a child, but after that never offered any solace. Things are better between us now, but, I don't think I can ever forget his neglect at the time when I needed him the most! 

     Dad is never far from my mind. Most of the time, I think of something funny or moving that he said or did, but sometimes, I can't overcome a deep sense of emptiness that his death left in my life. Wherever he is, I hope that he knows, how much we miss and love him! 

     Good bye, Papa!

Meyer Minsky, my dad.

     

WHAT AM I TO DO?

     There was nothing left to do: I had to go to church. Sounds very pious (lol), right? I didn't go for at least a month. My friends, even those who share my outlook of outraged incredulity at the behavior and attitude of our leadership, all go on Sunday. Well, last Friday was a Day of the Heavenly Parent. It used to be on January 1st and had a name: God's Day. We celebrated it for years as such, when, suddenly, it was not good enough. I mean, I understand that, perhaps the reason for it is that God's providence and the world's level of spirituality changed, but we've already been forced to deal with a lot of things, to swallow a whole bunch of, what I now believe, bull.... .

Anyway, Since I am, personally, more out of that movement than in, I didn't give a flying hoot for that holiday. 
     Unfortunately, my hubby is still clinging to the flower chains of our past. Because of him and of many other people who asked if they'll see me at church on Sunday, I went today. Ooph, that was a long winded explanation of the fact that, I didn't want to go but went anyway!
     Only Roberta and I had enough courage to brave the elements. The rain, finally, came. It pattered a little bit in the morning, but

gathered strength in the afternoon. Roberta had a rain jacket on, but I only had an umbrella. I had to plant her in the car, take her walker and put in the back seat, deal with both of our purses, plus to balancing and loosing battle with an umbrella. Needless to say, I looked, probably, like a gigantic, wet rat when we made it into the church sanctuary! 
     This is why I still go there. A brother, who leads a church band, walked up to me with his arms wide open and gave me a huge, warmest hug! "I can't tell you, how glad I am to see you!" - he said.

I had a feeling of such pure, loving, gentle heart in what he did! Others were also exceptionally welcoming. That raised my mood considerably, and I proceeded to enthusiastically sing a few songs, - all of them from the flower-power days. There were many guests, or just people who also don't go to church often enough to be remembered.  
     Pastor's sermon was not very inspiring. Afterwords, we went up to the cafeteria to get some coffee and bagels and sat and chatted with our friends. 
     How do I walk away from it? For thirty two years I was immersed in that pot, gave a lot of myself to promote this church. I lived in this area for twenty four years, know almost everyone and took part in almost every church activity. How do I leave it?! Heavenly God, I need motivation and power to sever myself from the familiar yet unacceptable anymore environment! 
     I think, I am paying now for my blatant disregard for the wet and the cold. My nose is running, I am too tired and sleepy. I already took some vitamin C and drunk my patented ginger-lemon-honey potion, but ,time to time, chill runs through me, like a cold hand on my spine. Hmm. I have a bad feeling about it!

   

WHAT DOES THAT REMIND ME? 악마를 보았냥

A CHANCE

     Mr. P. and I talked at length yesterday. It was about, what I want more from life and my marriage and what I want less of. Things are getting a bit better all the time. I can't believe that, it took almost twenty five years for us to start seriously working on our relationship. 
     First of all, I said that I wanted less drama. OK, money is important for our survival, but what's the use of having money if we kill each other and our marriage in the process of keeping it? I said that I need to: 
1. Be more careful with my spending (it'll be easier with me - on a diet of shakes and bars, with no cafe lunches);
2. Insist stronger on Taka to respect me and view me as an equal;
3. Make an effort to become closer to him, to show him that I am not rejecting him as a person or a husband, but only want to be treated fairly and kindly.
     Kindly is a key word. Now we have more like a work relationship. He is the boss and I am the employee, that gets scolded and threatened time to time when she doesn't perform in a satisfactory manner. But even in a work environment it's important to be fair and kind. We, on the other hand, are a union of people dedicated to each other and our family. There is no firing from or leaving this job! At least - not in an offhand, business-like manner that would be appropriate at work! Taka is the closest person to me, closer than my own parents were. Yet we treat each other as inconvenient problems, sometimes. 
     I often catch myself wondering, what it'd be like, if he is gone. I don't know: because of an accident, or if he, finally, had enough. How would I take it?  Will I grieve or just have some conscience pangs, but, mainly, feel relieved? How will we, kids and I, survive?
     I know that he thinks of that too. Taka is a very pedantic individual. He tries to control every situation and the outcome of it. 
     I remember one fight with him, when he looked at me with hatred and squeezed out in a whisper: "Disappear! Why don't you disappear?!" Does he still feel that way? 
     Life didn't turn out the way either of us thought or dreamed. Partially, it was my fault. It's hard to love someone if you dislike the way that they deal with you! This is my chance to repair the damage my hurt indifference has done to our relationship. It's a chance for recovery!