I’ve struggled over whether I should even post this or not.  I’ve really been torn for the last month between not posting it and letting it rip with full force.  Jenny even warned me many times not to “take the bait if it’s dangled again.”  Despite her wise counsel, my growing anger has overridden my common sense (or, perhaps, kicked it in the ass so it would act).  In either case, I’m going to respond publicly because I owe it to Derek to make sure his legacy isn’t tainted by such selfish small-mindedness and malfeasance.

In July 2004 I wrote about my frustration with Derek’s situation at that time.  This was just before he fell into the final stages of his disease and began his last few months of life.  If you recall, I had been spending more and more time dealing with his situation, taking care of him and his life, and otherwise being increasingly overwhelmed by what I was faced with.  I had stressed to Derek repeatedly that we should call his family because his health was so bad and I didn’t want to have to make “the other call” later.  I felt, given his worsening condition, his family should be given an opportunity to be involved with his care and to spend some time with him before his death.

When I wrote that entry, I was at the end of my emotional rope.  I truly felt as though I were being run into the ground when there was help available simply by making a phone call.  I alone was dealing with so much of Derek’s pain and anguish and was inarguably frustrated by knowing I was being asked to deal with it alone despite my many recommendations that we engage those who would probably jump at the chance to help.

Unfortunately, his family used that post against me.  At least twice.  They saw it as me lashing out at a very sick man—a dying man.  They obviously didn’t read it or didn’t understand it.  For that, shame on them.  For me letting them get away with it, shame on me.  I am now correcting that error.  And not only because it continues to piss me off that they would spit in the face of the man who kept him alive for two years, who did such a great job handling his finances when he couldn’t (to a degree that made him very rich before he died), who reached out to them in his final months despite Derek himself telling me not to (I could have just denied them access altogether), and who sacrificed so much for a dear friend.

No, poppets, they weren’t grateful.  They weren’t supportive.  They used me for as long as was necessary, and then they discarded me like a used condom.  They denied me access to all of my possessions I sent with him solely because he wanted them, and that despite my knowing he’d never use them (things like thousands of dollars in electronic equipment, hundreds of movies, important artwork, a new laptop computer, and so on).  They raped and pillaged his financial resources in complete contradiction of his wishes (I wrote his will for him, so I sure as hell know what he wanted, and part of that was to make sure The Kids were well cared for; do you think I heard from them after the funeral? ha! not!).

Since I’m posting old drafts that never made it to the online bizarre that is my blog, I see no reason not to resurrect this demon again.  Because I don’t wish to leave the conversation as it is yet don’t want to isolate many readers who don’t know what has been said on a post from so long ago, I’ve decided to pull this comment forward and show you what I wrote in response yet never posted.  First, you should read the post I linked to above.  Second, here’s the main comment from his family that hit me below the belt:

Then you should have informed his family long before the situation got out of hand and long before you got “tired” of being “used”. You didn’t even have to use your name if you felt like you were betraying someone you grew annoyed with. An anonymous letter or phone call would have been all the information his family would have needed. A little something to raise a red flag that something was seriously wrong seeing as he disclosed that information from his own freinds and family. It is greatly appreciated for all that you have done. Please, in now way feel that that has gone unoticed. And for that, thank you. Your annoyance with Derek should have forced you to do alert his family a little sooner, don’t you think?

In response, I wrote the following:

First, don’t tell me what to do.  Were you there?  No, you ignored Derek’s health problems until it was too late.  You knew something was terribly wrong, yet you did nothing.  Considering that, don’t presume to think you can judge me in any way.

Second, don’t try to take your guilt out on me.  I didn’t fail him.  Despite feeling this way (which would be quite normal for anyone under such stress), I took care of him regardless of the personal sacrifices.

Where were you?

I am human and I do have feelings.  I was under tremendous stress at the time, so can you honestly fault me for feeling somewhat resentful?  Notice I said “I felt like” rather than saying “I was.”  There’s a big difference, so I suggest you pay attention to that next time.

I have feelings.  When I get stressed and fatigued and overwhelmed, things look far worse than they actually are.  Have you never been in a similar situation?  Unlikely.  Have you ever thought or felt something so strongly that later seemed an overreaction?  Or that was wholly incorrect later but seemed entirely true at the time given the overwhelming circumstances you were faced with?  Of course you have.

On a personal note, I will not be your whipping boy because you feel guilty for your own failures with Derek’s situation.  I didn’t ignore the signs that were so blatant and in my face.  I didn’t sit on my suspicions of his health crisis until it was too late.  I didn’t leave it for someone else to deal with when I knew my own family member was so terribly sick and probably dying.

Don’t take it out on me because you failed, because you weren’t there for him, because he trusted me with his life more than you.  The fact is you weren’t there for him and I was.  Despite how I may have felt when under this seemingly portentous strain, I didn’t turn my back on him.  On the contrary, I took care of him when you didn’t.

It may be easy for you to make such judgments with the benefit of hindsight, but I refuse to let you beat up on me because you feel guilty about your own failures in this situation.  I suggest you point that anger and guilt back at yourself where it’s due and just.

Another of Derek’s clueless brethren added to that the single word “bah” as though that was an appropriate way to respond to my heartfelt explanation.  ‘Bah’ is a derogatory, of course, and was meant solely to spit in my face even under the circumstances—and all just two weeks after his death.  Hadn’t I dealt with enough already?  Obviously it wasn’t anywhere near enough for them.

That’s when I wrote the following.  Keep in mind this is a draft and I make no claims as to its coherency, especially in this case when my emotions were both raw and under attack.  It’s a direct response.  I’d even go so far as to say it’s savage in its incompleteness.  Although I’m posting it “as is,” had I felt compelled to finish this back then and post it, I assure you it would have been significantly more direct than it is in its current form.  I would have spared not a single feeling.  Now, on to “Where were you?”…

Continue reading →

I’ve been tied up running errands most of today (to the vet for $100 worth of cat food [hungry little pigs!], to the grocery store for, well, a lot more than $100 worth of human food [again, hungry little pig! oh, wait, that’s me…], to Rick’s to help him with a computer problem, and so on).  I’m only now finding an opportunity to sit down and have something for lunch.  And a beer.

The next “Washout Lane” entry is long and not very nice.  It’s a response to a comment from a long time ago, a comment from someone in Derek’s family.  The post is not very nice (which is why I never finished it in the first place).  More details will be included when it finally shows up.

I’ve started work on a short story (or, based on length, a novella, but does that word really apply online?) that will be entirely drafted here on my blog.  In fact, my first impression is to simply develop it for online presentation rather than planning to include it in something else down the road.  I don’t have a title for it yet.  It’s fiction (although I’m not sure you’d call it horror or suspense or science fiction or, well, something or other).  That’s not the point.  The point is I started this story a few days ago.  What I intend to do with it is post it as I draft it.  That means it will be a work in progress.  You may see discrepancies in the story (which happens often when writing something like this and which generally get corrected while the story develops), but I’ll try to keep those to a minimum if possible.

I have plans to write yet another short story for online presentation that will be, um, something else.  I’m not sure yet as it’s just starting to form and I’m not certain where I’m going with it.  More on that at a later time.

Oh hell… The truth is I have six short stories I’m working on right now that I hope to post here.  The stipulation is they will be posted if they develop into something worthwhile.  If they don’t go anywhere, they could end up entries in Washout Lane.  All of these are fictional as opposed to my normal drivel based on real life.  In most cases, I will draft the story offline before posting it, although that will not always be the case and some will be posted as I write them (meaning they won’t be as ‘clean’ as they should be).

I decided to kill the intelligent design serial.  That whole mess is moving too quickly for me to care.  It’s tied up in the courts, in the media, in the churches, and everywhere you look.  I’d rather spend my time doing other things than trying to keep up with dishonest religious folk who blindly deny the facts available to them (even going so far as to demand that evidence be hidden since it offends their sensibilities).  The old entries will stay as they are, but don’t expect anything new as part of the serial.

I’ve been trying (to remember) to use trackbacks in new posts if they reference old ones.  I thought it might help if someone stumbles upon (or returns to) something from way back when.  Instead of it just being orphaned out there despite newer content that references it, trackbacks add a comment that points to the new stuff.  Thus far I’ve not had much luck remembering to do it, and it may ultimately turn out to be too anal and too tedious for me to care.  We’ll see.

I’m really tired of spam.  I get more spam than regular e-mail (undoubtedly true for most people who have been on the internet for more than five minutes).  Regrettably, I can’t just delete everything in the spam box and be done with it.  I’ve discovered from time to time that legitimate messages are earmarked as garbage and relegated to the bottomless pit.  I don’t read every message that gets sucked into that black hole, but I do glance at them before wiping them out of existence.  It’s growing increasingly tedious.  I wish we’d enforce the death penalty for spammers (as long as we’re gonna be killin’ people).

On that note, I’m going to find something for lunch.  Surely the shopping idiot brought something home that’s edible…

I and the Bird #33 is generously endowed and deserves a bit of your birding attention.  Also, coming from a financial blog, I have to point out how much I agree with this sentiment from the host:

But as regular readers know, I’m a firm believer in integrating real life into financial life. After all, it doesn’t matter how nicely you feather your financial nest if you don’t use some of your earnings to follow what makes you happy.

Sounds familiar, huh?

The 44th Skeptics’ Circle is now available.  I think everyone would enjoy reading Coturnix’s entry on denialist rhetoric, but don’t let that recommendation stop you from enjoying all the other good posts as well.

Tarantulas produce silk from their feet!  How cool is that?  “Researchers have found for the first time that tarantulas can produce silk from their feet as well as their spinnerets, a discovery with profound implications for why spiders began to spin silk in the first place.”

We don’t charge Christians with terrorism even when they commit an act of domestic terrorism.  That’s nice.  He rammed his car into what he thought was an abortion clinic and promptly torched the place.  It wasn’t an abortion clinic.  He was only charged with second-degree arson.  You can bet a Muslim would be in Gitmo by now.  [via Ryland]

Good news from Chris Clarke about Zeke.  He doesn’t have cancer.  Of course, although he’s doing better, he’s still a very sick dog.  It’s likely his age more than anything else (and age-related ailments), and Chris still has a difficult time ahead to ensure Zeke doesn’t suffer unnecessarily.

This explains a great many things, does it not?  “Too much testosterone can kill brain cells…”  Need I say more?

And Bush just keeps getting hit.  This time it’s the UN reporting on Iraq and completely refuting the lies from Dubya and his régime.  “An intelligence report showing an upsurge in Islamic militancy put the White House on the defensive on Wednesday in an election-year debate over whether President George W. Bush has made America safer. In a second blow to the president, a new U.N. report said the Iraq war was providing al Qaeda with a training center and fresh recruits, and was inspiring a Taliban resurgence in Afghanistan hundreds of miles away.”  Again, feel safer?

Grand Rounds 3.1 has the best and brightest from the medical blogosphere, so don’t miss it.

Like most people who don’t own Bermuda shorts, I’m bored by ordinary travel. See the Beautiful Grand Canyon. OK, I see it. OK, it’s beautiful. Now what? And I have no use for vacation paradises. Take the little true love along to kick back and work on the relationship. She gets her tits sun-burned. I wreck the rental car. We’ve got our teeth in each other’s throat before you can say ‘lost luggage’. Nor do attractions attract me. If I had a chance to visit another planet, I wouldn’t want to go to Six Flags Over Mars or ride through the artificial ammonia like in a silicone-bottomed boat at Venusian Cypress Gardens. I’d want to see the planet’s principle features – what makes it tick. Well, the planet I’ve got a chance to visit is Earth, and Earth’s principal features are chaos and war. I think I’d be a fool to spend years here and never have a look.

— P J O’Rourke