RE: [MOL] Anger [00525] Medicine On Line


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RE: [MOL] Anger



Dear Lori:  I loved your story about your dad!  What a colorful character he must have been.  Thanks for sharing.  Kathy in Boise
-----Original Message-----
From: owner-mol-cancer@lists.meds.com [mailto:owner-mol-cancer@lists.meds.com]On Behalf Of Lori and Tom Anderson-Finwall
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 1999 12:54 PM
To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com
Subject: Re: [MOL] Anger

boy are dad could have been best friends. My dad would look and all the fat people in the he restaurant and say loudly ( he was deaf) look at that fat lady eat. Considering dad was over 200 lb. it was very ironic. He once asked the Mexican owner of a restaurant if they had turkey for thanks giving. He call my neighborhood children pickninnies, they were black and had thier hair braided. I lived in one of the tough inner city neighborhood of Minneapolis at the time. He would belch and fart loudly in public and never know it. Lord know it must have been his sincerity and his sense of humor that help him get as far as he did working with charities and selling houses.
 
Dad was a terrible driver God forbid he taught my brother and I how to drive also. Dad would ride the brake and look for chicks. The was a butt and Breast man from what I could tell. He would turn around in his seat just to get a good look. The car would swerve in to the on coming lane and we would haller dad!  he would say I just wanted to see if I knew that lady. For all I knew dad knew the back side of every woman in North Dakota and Minnesota. We grew up vomiting up in the back seat of the car because of dads driving. One of his friends said to us when dad was in the hospital that he thought dad should give up driving. My uncle and brother and I said dad has always been a bad driver What was new about that. Dad took my brother out on his first date with a girl to a movie. He side swiped a parked car with his 57 chevy. Dana never got to go out with that girl again. Dad had not had a drink yet that day.
 
I just keep in mind that my dad was not me. If he farts and clears the room without knowing it. He did it not me. I just loved him and had some good fight with him about what he did and did not understand about social skills. I would give any thing to be able to have a fight with him know. It is hard to live with your parent growing old. try to get him connected with a senior group even if you have to take him there till he make a connection. It will give him more people to bug.
 
TAke care Love Lori
-----Original Message-----
From: martha cerreto <home3@worldnet.att.net>
To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com <mol-cancer@lists.meds.com>
Cc: home3@worldnet.att.net <home3@worldnet.att.net>
Date: Thursday, August 12, 1999 1:25 AM
Subject: [MOL] Anger

Dear Nanc:
 
As I think I mentioned, my mom passed away.  My dad is still alive.  He lives in a condo, about a mile away.  He takes care of himself...sort of.  I don't know what to do with him.  He calls my husband at work....sometimes 3-4 times a day.   He calls to tell him stuff like, "so, how come you go to so many meetings...what do you do in those meetings."
 
On the weekends, he drops over all the time.   He ogles my nextdoor neighbor, who I don't particularly like.  Tony, my husband, has told him, sometimes to shut up, but he doesn't listen and goes on saying disgusting things.  He will call, on the weekend, if he's not over and be aggravated if we don't tell him every move we make...out to the store (what store?)...when back from the store, etc.
 
The other day he was over.  He jiggled the fat on my upper arm and then complained why I don't invite him over to dinner more often. 
 
When he calls and asks where we went, I always have this urge to say we were at this fantastic party.  There were people there our age and your age.  We thought of inviting you, but purposefully decided not to do it.
 
He has cataracts...I think one eye is much worse than the other.  He has told me that in his last visit to the eye doctor he was told that in his bad eye, his vision had declined to the point where he would not pass a motor vehicle test.  Needless to say, we have been encouraging him to get the surgery.  He always comes up with excuses...I think he is just basically scared.
 
I have thought what to do about this.  I even called the police, without giving my name and asked their advice.  The fellow I talked to didn't seem like he ever had someone call and ask him what to do in this sort of situation.  He said that the police would refer him to Motor Vehicles.  I haven't done anything.  I'm sort of scared.  I think he would know it was me and would be so mad.
 
I do admire you Nanc, and so many caretakers I've met and wrote to on this list for all you do.  Also, I know that the most likely person to need caretaking in my life, i.e., my father, I could never take care of.  Tony and I don't know what exactly would happen if he becomes unable to take care of himself...although I guess he would be in a nursing home, pinching the nurses and in general, making a reputation for himself as the biggest pain in the butt in the facility.
 
I don't know why I'm telling you all this stuff...Maybe I just had to get it off my chest.  I know my antidepressant helps a lot.  Xanax is addictive, I think...maybe Paxil or Zoloft.  But don't listen to me...talk to a good psychiatrist.  
 
Depression does run in my family...well on one side.  Have you guessed which side...?  It's not my mother's.   It helps me to be more calm and not to worry so much...That's all.  No zombie stuff.  Also, I think it helps me see things more practically.  Sometimes it drives my husband crazy when we're having an argument, because I'm always right.  YEAH, ME!!!!!!!!!!!!(arm pump)
 
I hope that'll help  Don.  I think you said that your son is coming to live with you...maybe I heard wrong...I don't know.  But the other thing it sounds like you may need is somebody that can get between you and Don on occasion.  
 
Please take care of yourself because we love you very much.
 
Your daughter,
 
Martha
 
P.S.:  With my antidepressant, (Paxil), which helps me not worry so much about cancer, I also am freed up to experience much more deeply, prayer, meditation, and positive visualization about things like staying well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
P.P.S.:  I'm not sure, but I think I sent you a genuine Allen Sherman tape...he was the guy that wrote and sang that song about Camp Grenada...you know, "Hello Mudda...Hello Fadda...etc., etc.  I hope you listen tomorrow...at least maybe it'll make you smile.