Dear Grief, Bite me
So, yesterday was The Day when the Coroner in the Great State of Arizona (City of Yuma) decided to call my dad (at work!) to share the results of my brothers autopsy.
Problem #1: Fathers should never be alive when their sons have autopsies, because sons should always be old when they die.
Problem #2: Autopsy results should never be shared when the party being informed is at work, for the ever loving sake of all that is good and holy.
So, upon hearing the results, my father broke down and left for the day. He called me from the car, and I thought "hey. Must not let dad break down alone. Shall break down as well."
My huge problem? My anger at the VA (AKA: Veterans Affairs; AKA: Those who routinely Screw Over Veterans) is getting in the way. And now that we know the "Official Results" (which took a lot less time than anticipated (almost 4 weeks instead of 6-8), because the coroner told my dad on September 1st that "Look. This is not CSI." Which isn't the nicest thing to say to a dad whose son had died hours earlier.) my anger at the VA is turning to confusion.
I am rambling. Here is my problem. My anger with the VA? Steve's death can only be indirectly blamed upon the VA, not indirectly as I was thinking it would.
SEE, this. Several days before my brother died, he was vomiting blood. He called the VA, they said "Make an Appointment." Steve called to make an appointment, the VA said "See you in a few weeks."
How much sense does THAT make to YOU, Person of Common Sense?
Exactly.
So he called back. And he got the same answer. And the last picture he took - ever - on his camera? A picture of the blood he puked in the front yard of my parents house because he hurt so bad he couldn't run to the bathroom. You know - just in case he died or something.
Did you know I hate the VA?
I do.
Turns out the death of my brother is not directly related to the blood. Damn. Because, really, I needed something specific to be angry at.
To celebrate The Anger, I went to the grocery store last night and bought 4 ears of corn. So they wouldn't be lonely, 1 pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia LowFat Frozen Yogurt (Cherry Low Fat Frozen Yogurt with Cherries & Fudge Flakes) joined the corn at the checkout stand.
I ate 2 servings while making dinner last night.
I didn't eat dinner.
I ate 2 more servings at 5:55 am this morning. We couldn't let those 2 servings be lonely (like the 4 ears of corn). And besides, I was up.
Josh not really teething? What a joke. That's why he was up at 4:00, 4:30 and again at 5:20 this morning. After wake up call #3, I decided to just get up. Because lying in bed and seeing my brothers body at the funeral home over and over in my mind wasn't the best company anymore.
At least it was low fat (frozen yogurt). At least it had chocolate. I wish it actually made me feel better (just a little).
Problem #1: Fathers should never be alive when their sons have autopsies, because sons should always be old when they die.
Problem #2: Autopsy results should never be shared when the party being informed is at work, for the ever loving sake of all that is good and holy.
So, upon hearing the results, my father broke down and left for the day. He called me from the car, and I thought "hey. Must not let dad break down alone. Shall break down as well."
My huge problem? My anger at the VA (AKA: Veterans Affairs; AKA: Those who routinely Screw Over Veterans) is getting in the way. And now that we know the "Official Results" (which took a lot less time than anticipated (almost 4 weeks instead of 6-8), because the coroner told my dad on September 1st that "Look. This is not CSI." Which isn't the nicest thing to say to a dad whose son had died hours earlier.) my anger at the VA is turning to confusion.
I am rambling. Here is my problem. My anger with the VA? Steve's death can only be indirectly blamed upon the VA, not indirectly as I was thinking it would.
SEE, this. Several days before my brother died, he was vomiting blood. He called the VA, they said "Make an Appointment." Steve called to make an appointment, the VA said "See you in a few weeks."
How much sense does THAT make to YOU, Person of Common Sense?
Exactly.
So he called back. And he got the same answer. And the last picture he took - ever - on his camera? A picture of the blood he puked in the front yard of my parents house because he hurt so bad he couldn't run to the bathroom. You know - just in case he died or something.
Did you know I hate the VA?
I do.
Turns out the death of my brother is not directly related to the blood. Damn. Because, really, I needed something specific to be angry at.
To celebrate The Anger, I went to the grocery store last night and bought 4 ears of corn. So they wouldn't be lonely, 1 pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia LowFat Frozen Yogurt (Cherry Low Fat Frozen Yogurt with Cherries & Fudge Flakes) joined the corn at the checkout stand.
I ate 2 servings while making dinner last night.
I didn't eat dinner.
I ate 2 more servings at 5:55 am this morning. We couldn't let those 2 servings be lonely (like the 4 ears of corn). And besides, I was up.
Josh not really teething? What a joke. That's why he was up at 4:00, 4:30 and again at 5:20 this morning. After wake up call #3, I decided to just get up. Because lying in bed and seeing my brothers body at the funeral home over and over in my mind wasn't the best company anymore.
At least it was low fat (frozen yogurt). At least it had chocolate. I wish it actually made me feel better (just a little).