“My family sucks!”

Every night when I’d try to go to bed, usually between 2:00-4:00am, I would think to myself, “well today was fucking horrible, I highly doubt tomorrow could get any worse…..” then I would wake up the next day and shit would get much worse. There was a few days there though that were relatively quiet during that very first week of November. Part of it had to do with the fact that Satan was supposedly sick and she wasn’t up at the hospital. 
Two days went by and there was absolutely no bullshit from them. I hadn’t seen them in a few days and it was nice. Then came this one night when I was up there and a new nurse came in to take my mom’s blood pressure. Like all of the other nurses in her unit she was friendly and started talking to us. We got into a conversation about family and she asked my mom how many kids she had. My mom explained that she had me and my brother and we were both married, with one kid. My mom mentioned that she wasn’t crazy about my brother’s wife and I said the same. Then suddenly my mom turns to me and says, “[my name] we need to stop doing that. Confused, I asked her, “doing what?”. She said, “telling people that we don’t like her.”. She then when on to explain that years ago around the time everything was going on with my brother and Satan and their wedding, my mom was getting her taxes done and she told her accountant that she hate her son’s wife and felt my brother was making a huge mistake marrying her. She went on to tell me that the day prior Satan and my brother were at the hospital and Satan was talking about some tax advice she got from someone that she needed to tell her accountant, Janice When my mom heard the name Janice she asked Satan what her last name was and that’s when she realized that they used the same accountant. 
We live in one of the most densely populated, suburban areas of the United States. What are the chances that my mom and her used the same accountant? 

Knowing how Satan and my brother had been snooping around my mom’s house several times in the past few weeks, I found it highly suspicious that Satan happened to A) be speaking about financial advice she got, with my mom while she was in the hospital, B) used the same exact accountant as her. I mentioned this much earlier on in this blog but this was something that was common practice for Satan. She always knew someone that knew you, no matter where you went. She always had a “friend”. Back when my mom was hospitalized in August, and had to get a procedure done Satan had sent my mom a screenshot of this anesthesiologist that she supposedly knew. She told my mom that he would come down and see her before her procedure and take care of her. No one ever showed up. She was full of shit. She had friends that were nurses too but again, we never met any of them. I felt like this was just another bullshit story that Satan was telling. She always knew someone. 
 I think it her doing that is her way of controlling what is said about her. It keeps you on your toes. You don’t want to bad mouth her because you never know when one of her “friends” may be lurking in the shadows, listening to your conversations. It was working on my mom, but to be quite honest, I could give a flying shit less. It was abundantly clear at that point in time that I wasn’t about to be the president of the Satan fan club. She didn’t scare me. 
I was trying my hardest not to talk about my brother and Satan unless my mom brought them up and even then I would keep it to a minimum. I didn’t want to stress her out with their nonsense by at the same time I wanted her to be aware that people were invading her privacy and going through her personal space. Even when I did talk about what was going on I always took the blame off of my brother and put it on to Satan. I didn’t want my mom thinking her son was a piece of shit and so I always stressed the fact that he was being controlled by her, even though at that point in time, I stared to realize that my brother was just as guilty because he was allowing her to control him and overstep boundaries with his family. As I mentioned in my last post it bothered me at times though, that my mom was so completely blind to my brother’s role in everything. She always gave him a pass. I think having to admit your son is a greedy, self absorbed, piece of shit, is a hard thing for a mother to do. I had told my mom each time I caught him in her safe but I think there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe me until finally one day, she got the proof she needed. 
It was a few days after Halloween and my mom told me, “your brother really was in my safe. He gave himself up by accident.”. I have to mention here that my mom would give me little drips and drabs of things they would say to her but she never told me the full details because I think she was really trying to avoid adding fuel to the fire. At the same time I think she was trying to piece this all together in her own mind and so when something didn’t seem right, she would question it to see my reaction. Her worst nightmare was to die knowing that my brother and I weren’t ever going to speak again. Him and I being estranged made her miserable. Anyhow, She would make mentions of these small, weird things and when I’d press for details she’s suddenly forget them because she didn’t want me to get angry. In this case there had to be some discussion going on about my mom changing her will and my brother asked her if she was going to use the same lawyer who drew up her original will. My mom said to me that, that right there was proof that my brother was indeed in the safe. There’s no other way he could’ve known who drafted her original will without actually going in there and seeing it with his own eyes. My mom never showed either of us her will. She told me that she told him that day that she had another lawyer she was going to use and she left it at that. It hurt that my mom had doubts but at the same time I understood. No mother wants to think their child is doing something shady to hurt her or any other one of his immediate family. I can only imagine the discussions that went on between them when I wasn’t around. I feel like they were telling my Mom things way worse than I ever could imagine while I wasn’t around. Satan was a compulsive liar and her lies were about to take a far more sinister turn. 
The same night my mom told me about the coincidental fact that Satan and her used the very same accountant, she made another strange mention to me about something else Satan said to her. The nurse walked out of the room and my mom said to me, “there’s something else I have to tell you about Satan…..”. I looked at her with worry in my eyes. She told me it was really weird. Satan told my mom she had one this thing called “the Nest” in some contest. I had heard of The Nest before. To my knowledge it was digital, hi-tech thermostat that could be controlled via your iPhone. She told my mom that not only did she win The Nest but she didn’t need it and she was such a generous person, she wanted my mom to have it. I was puzzled as to why Satan wouldn’t want to use it herself and why she’d want to give her expensive prize away to my mom for no apparent reason and that’s when my mom added, “well that’s not all….”apparently this prize was not just the thermostat, it came with a free security camera and she wanted to also gift that to my mom! 
Something definitely did not sound right about this to me. First off what kind of contest did Satan enter that a thermostat and Security camera were the prize? I asked my mom if that sounded a little suspicious to her and my mom admitted that it did, but again wanted to give my brother the benefit of the doubt. Also, why wouldn’t Satan want to keep this wonderful prize? Why was she so compelled to give it to my mom? My mom tried to play it off that it wasn’t a big deal but this wreaked of evil to me. No one just gives away a prize they “won” that’s worth over $200, for no reason. It just didn’t make sense to me. My mom told me she would like the thermostat but she wasn’t really into having a security camera in her house. 
When I left the hospital that night I told my husband who also thought the story sounded suspicious but in all honesty, I wrote it off as one of Satan’s bullshit stories that would never actually come to fruition. I looked at it as one of those things she said, just like her friend the anesthesiologist who was going to come see my mom before she got her procedure done and for the next few days I didn’t even give it a second thought. 
In the meanwhile I spoke to my mom and her doctors about getting her off the pain pump and my mom agreed to give it a shot. It seemed the radiation had helped and they got her pain under control. She was also seeing the physical therapist who showed her how to do these exercises in her bed to help build up muscle strength. It was nice to have conversations with my mom during that week without her nodding off or looking all doped up. I told her about the weeks before and she had virtually no memory of some of the events that took place. She didn’t even know that some people came and visited her and she had absolutely no memory of the night I brought to the emergency room…which was probably a good thing. I know that night be permanently burned into my mind. 
I hadn’t seen either of my aunts, at the hospital since I had that blowout with my Aunt Debbie about my brother and quite frankly, I was shocked. Knowing how close she was with my mom I would’ve thought she’d be multiple times a week, for hours on end. With the way I’ve seen them do things, I knew they were going to blame me for the reason they weren’t coming up that often. I was used to being their scapegoat, whipping girl at that point. My husband stayed out of all the drama but after My fight with Aunt Debbie, he tried to call her and explain the story and what was going on and in that convo, my aunt Debbie told him that she would come more often but she had to go home and feed her dogs after work. While i admit the hospital was a good 25 miles away from her, she could’ve made a little more of an effort to get there. Also, she has a grown ass, adult daughter who literally lives next door to her in an apartment she had built, on to her house, for her ex-inlaws. She could’ve helped out with feeding her dogs. It was just an excuse and a lame one at that. Instead she wound wait until aunt Bea and Uncle Bob were coming and she’d come with them. Not once did she drive out there by herself. I asked my mom almost everyday if anyone was coming and she said “no”, but that she “didn’t even care.”. While she said that she didn’t care, the way she said it told me that she really did care and was disappointed. 
That Thursday that proceeded Halloween I was sitting up in my mom’s room reading a magazine as she dozed off and all of the sudden I hear the shuffling of feet and jackets. I look up and my Aunt Bea, my aunt Debbie and my cousin Tina came walking in the room. At this point I really didn’t want to see any of them and so I started to get that anxious feeling in my gut. I wanted to just leave the room and for so many reasons. One being that the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and I didn’t want my mom to be stuck in the middle of it. As I said before I also didn’t want them to ha e any excuses as to why they didn’t come up there often. I didn’t want them to say that I was breathing down their necks, making them feel uncomfortable or robbing them of precious time with my mom. They had just as much of a right to be there as I did and they deserved to spend some “alone” time with her too. Lastly, I welcomed the break. I would be at the hospital everyday from the early to mid afternoon up until anywhere from 9:30 to 11:00 pm. No one was forcing me to be there but I just didn’t feel right knowing she was so scared and nervous, leaving her to sit in this depressing hospital alone! I said hello and then a few minutes later I excused myself to go downstairs to get a drink and smoke a cigarette.
As I rode down the elevator I realized that my Uncle Bob wasn’t with them. My Aunt Bea is one of those kinds of women who rely way too much on their husbands to do things for them. Aunt Bea hardly went anywhere without my uncle bob. There were several times my Aunts wanted to do a girl’s night out/sisters night and aunt Bea declined the invitation because she wouldn’t go without Uncle Bob. Aunt Bea never drove her car on the main highway that runs through the island in which we live on. She never had to pump her gas or go pickup takeout food. My Uncle Bob does all of those things for her and so when I was her there alone it certainly was weird. 
The parking lot was empty for the most part by that time of night and by process of elimination I assumed my Aunt Debbie was the chauffeur that night but when I looked around, her car was no where to be found. I shrugged it off and continued to make my way to my car when all of the sudden out of the corner of my eye I noticed a car that looked exactly like Uncle Bob’s truck. I walked over to it and saw a sticker that helped confirm that it indeed was his car. I had my cigarette, called my husband, and hung around for a while knowing that their visits usually didn’t last longer than a half hour or hour, tops. 
On my way back in I decided to call my mom and ask her if she wanted anything from the cafeteria before it closed for the night. She told me she was ok and to just come back up to the room. As I stood there and waited for the elevator I heard the door to another elevator open up. I turned my head to look at it and out comes my Uncle Bob, all by himself. As he walked out I looked at him and our eyes got locked in direct contact with one another. I felt like we were two cowboy, gun slingers in the wild Wild West. My head followed him until he finally left my field of vision. He didn’t so much as grimace at me. It was as if we were two complete strangers with absolutely no connection to one another. At one point in my life I actually had a lot of respect for my uncle Bob but it was clear at that point that he didn’t have any for me. That day when I looked into his eyes, I saw him in a completely different way. He was a heartless, pussy ass, Bitch. 
I got back into the room and as I walked back in the rest of them shuffled out of the room. I could tell my mom was a little bit annoyed that I left because she made some comment that I was rude for leaving. As much as I didn’t like lying to her; I tried to play it off like I was just claustrophobic and anxious with so many people in the small space she was in (which was partially true). I felt it wouldn’t benefit either of us at that point by telling her my real reasons, but my mom was no idiot. You know that every single day when I went up to the hospital my mom would ask me, “did anyone from the family reach out to you?”, and everyday I’d reply, “no ma just [my oldest cohsin] and [my mom’s youngest sister], no one else.”. Just as I could read her, she could read me and she knew that there was more to the story and that’s why she would ask me, if they called. The last time she asked me that her reply to my answer was, “my family fucking sucks.”. I couldn’t even argue with that. 

That Friday I was at the hospital in the afternoon and came home to drop off my son. As I was getting ready to head back up to the hospital, I got a call from the palliative care director. Apparently the woman, who’s name was Linda, had a long talk with my mom that afternoon and afterwards she decided to call me. Our conversation was almost an hour long and I was really confused because it seemed like the main purpose of it was to light a fire under my ass to get a lawyer down to the hospital and have my mom sign power of attorney over to me. This woman knew the whole story about my brother and Satan and how my mom didn’t want Satan controlling any of her money. She said that she “strongly urged me to get it done ASAP. The funny part was; we were supposed to see the lawyer that day but we ended up having to cancel because my mom thought she was having some procedure done. After the palliative care meeting, my mom told me to call the lawyer who worked probono for cancer patients, that they had suggested and have him come into the hospital so she could have him re-write her will. She had a social worker call and follow up with me the next day and she too explained that there’s always one evil person in every family. Later on when I told my mom that I had spoken with the palliative care director, and what she said my mom tried to play it off like she didn’t tell the woman about my brother and Satan. I was really confused. The woman told me they had a conversation about it and my mom explained the whole story to her and how she was really worried for me. I don’t know why my mom would deny it. Maybe she was trying to just do damage control because she didn’t want them finding out about it. Regardless, I called him but he wasn’t available for another week and so I rescheduled with him for the following Thursday….
(To be continued in my next post) 

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