sigh The in-laws are seriously overwhelming me, my husband is out fishing (again, it’s his job, not a sport) and I have no one to talk to about this who does not already have an opinion, in part blamed on the actions of my in-laws in everyday life. Part of small town life, and the biggest reason I kept my maiden name when I married my husband. Both times.
I am married to an Alaska Native, which I have mentioned before, and we have two children together. Having been spent a large part of my life living next to a reservation, going to high school and church with Native Americans, living for five years in a tiny Alaska Native fishing village, along with having a healthy dose of N.A. blood running through my veins, nothing which I am about to say is in any way written with a racist bias. I also have a good representation of alcoholics in the non-Native side of my family, so any frustration with alcoholism is not to be construed as stereotyping. Please.
My husband comes from a very tragic family. (As do I, but we are talking about my here and now reality, my family lives over 1,000 miles away.) Up to four generations back that I am aware of personally there has been rampant alcoholism, leading to a terribly dysfunctional lifestyle, which in turn has precipitated several suicides, the most recent being my sister-in-law Lisa two years ago. She was one of the twin babies in a family of six children. My husband is the second oldest child, and the oldest (living, legitimate) son. (another story)
Last October while my husband was in the Bering Sea his older sister Babe went on a drinking binge for almost three weeks, consuming little or nothing beyond alcohol. When the money ran out, she went into the D.T.'s, had several massive seizures, and was without oxygen for at least a half an hour before being resusitated. She was medivac’d to the Native Services hospital in Anchorage, where she spent three weeks in a coma. She was finally brought back to the island and admitted to the hospital. A family meeting was called, and I was aprehensive. No disrespect, but my in-laws are not terribly well informed. They didn’t have a clue. My husband’s next younger sister Lucy and I have always been close, and I do my best to not let her live in delusion. We went to the meeting prepared, as did my husband (who was home by then). I knew Babe’s situation, I know how to google, and I try to keep up with current events. I had a pretty good idea of what we would be facing in the meeting.I
The doctor spoke far over my in-laws heads, until I finally stopped her and asked some very direct questions. Bottom line, Babe is in a persistent vegetative state. My in-laws are “in this for the long haul” and fully expect Babe to wake up, get out of bed, and resume her life. It’s not going to happen.
The hospital cannot even remove her trach tube, so her lungs are suctioned regularly, she is being stomach tube fed, she continually developes pneumonia, UTI’s and bladder infections. She had her teeth pulled a few years ago, and she now grinds her gums until they too are infected. She is atrophying into a fetal position, the braces have been unable to keep her hands and feet from becoming distorted, and her face is a constant grimace of pain. It is heart wrenching to visit her, but as the wife of the eldest son who is out fishing, it is my family duty.
Her eyes have met mine, and it is a chilling experience, no one is there. Yes, she responds to loud sounds, such as Lucy’s repeated attempts to “shock” Babe into wakefullness by yelling into her ear to wake up. Yes, Babe startles, but she also tries to draw away from pain stimulation administered by the doctor. My mother-in-law is breaking my heart with her determination to not lose another child. She left her husband in the village and has moved into town, and is working at one of the canneries in order to be able to visit Babe every day at either the Care Center or the hospital, depending on Babe’s current status. The cannery work is long hours, exhaustingly labor intensive, and she is not a young woman.
Between Lucy, my husband Moses and I, we have convinced mom that signing a DNR is the best thing possible, but we know that she could revoke it at any time. In addition, Babe was a healthy (other than alcoholism) 37 year old woman, and the doctor says she could live for another two or three decades.
My heart breaks for my mil and fil, they have both buried children who were in their prime, a total of four between them. My husband, sisters- and brother-in law are grieving constantly. My husband is fortunate that he is able to get out of town and keep busy, the rest of the family is not taking this well at all, and swing from wild optimism to the depths of despair. Guess who gets the hysterical phone calls at all hours, with the person on the other end wanting to go over and over the tragedy endlessly? I have taken to turning the phone off and just checking for voice mail for calls I either want or need to return.
This is all really heavy baggage to have sitting in the front room of my mind every day. But wait! There’s more!
A tiny bit of back story, my husband has been sober for 11.5 years. It took divorcing him before he decided that he wanted out of the circus, but we are 15 years into this relationship and going strong.
However, it has not occured to any other family member that, just perhaps, alcohol might be the root of much of their troubles, and they carry on, binge drinking for weeks, some in the village will take to drinking Listerine, vanilla and other extracts, Blazo, nasty nasty nasty homebrew, whatever they can get their hands on. I don’t get too angry with them, but I do get frustrated. So many deaths. So many beatings and other ugliness which goes along ith the disease, particularly in The Bush, where The Law does not care to intervene until there is a dead body. Seriously.
I have no where to go with this, I am in a horrible limbo between the tragedy of another family member lost but in suspension between life and death, and the alternating fervent belief in a miracle and the despairing depths of brief realization that another daughter/sister/etc. is not coming home again by my in-laws.
I am really not here for sympathy, one of my very best sane friends always tells me that I can find sympathy in the dictionary between shit and syphyllis. I just needed to unburden, and I appreciate the ability to give the hamsters a bit of a jog this evening to just let my emotions flow.
Lucy is my biggest frustration. She is 10 years younger than I am, and yes, I have enabled her in years past to help her through her periodic breakdowns of consience, I have helped her out of three abusive relationships, and now she wants to hold my hand through this situation with her sister. Which I wouldn’t mind IF she wasn’t still drinking, and trying to lie to me that she isn’t. I have known the woman for 16 years, I can hear the alcohol in her voice over the phone, and she is dense beyond belief when she is assuring me that she hasn’t had a drop to my face while my eyes are watering from the fumes.
It’s complicated, I have barely scratched the surface, but I am going to explode if I don’t vent this out of my spleen to a safe audience who won’t report that I was talking smack about the in-laws before dawn, thereby putting me back into shunned status.
I have waited to post this, for obvious reasons, and I do not want this to post to derail. I am a Christian, but I can’t visit her without thinking to myself that we just need to throw dirt on the woman and let her rest in peace. Then I experience terrible guilt for those thoughts, but I still pray that she will just let go.
I’m not sure how to close this with any grace. Thanks for listening, for a place to safely open up. I appreciate it.
Wendy