**Pardon for the LJ change--the other one was my game LJ, this is my private LJ**
Hmmmm....Let's see
Two cousins over the age of 20 (one of them is 40 now and still mentally 7). One cousin with ADD. A great Aunt I helped to take care of while she took 8 long aweful agonizing months to die of cancer (and in the last month, she was so far gone that she lay in bed, staring. She didn't even have the strength to close her eyes.) My Grandfather, who died of Leigh Gerricks (sorry, forgot the spelling) disease two years ago on Valentines day, Another grnadmother by marriage, also so infirm (and yet active enough that she could thrash around and sort of peter around the house if you didn't keep an eye on her), that was bed-ridden *and* had Alzhiemers. I got to babysit her on a regular basis so my uncle could actually leave the house occasionally and do something *other* than take care of her.
So, do I have disabled relatives--ones that I've had to at least *help* to take care of? Oh yes, I do, and I did, and I will in the future. And that's not even counting the ones with psychological problems, including myself.
And I *do* work in a hospital--I run the receiving dock. Although I am not directly responsible for any patient care, I am expected to treat the patients, their families, and the medical staff who deal with them (many of whom are pompous asshats), with respect, dignity, and courtesy. Oh, and help them out as well. Which I do--without whining about it or expecting some sort of gracious return.
And, as for the 'Well, they'll still be that way at 80'.
Uh, yeah...and by then my father, who may or may not get any of the diseases mentioned above, or any of several thousand other ones, will need me--his *only* daughter and child, to help take care of *him* like he took care of me in my teen years. Because age is the ultimate crippler--and I am, after all his family. It's an unwritten obligation, or at least it used to be, for everyone</> with loved ones. Not to mention that I love him--that alone is worth any shit I may have to go through in order to help him out when he finally needs it from me instead of the other way around.
As for sneering? Sweetie, I've had an abortion--one that was against my will, but that those of my family who knew I was pregnant pretty much strong-armed me into having. There were no other options of help offered by them or anyone else at the time. It was 'you will' or 'you leave'. I was young, stupid and weak willed and I let them. And even now, I'm sure I'll never forgive myself for abandoning my child that way. If you like, I can give you a whole dissertation on the subject, right down to the scalples they used and the giant shop vac that the fetus was sucked into after they were done scraping it loose. I will note, by the way that although they give you morphine or another pain killer, that it really doesn't keep the sensation of having the insides of your guts ripped loose from hurting--it just makes it so you don't give a shit.
And you know what? If I weren't financially strapped, and knew for a fact that my own mental instabilities would not end up hurting my child in any way, I *would* adopt a child, or three, or five, if it meant keeping them from getting conveniently gotten rid of by way of abortion. Unfortunately, my circumstances and my own suspect nature are not where I would like them to be in order to feel I could raise a child correctly and well. I have plenty of love--but that is often not enough, especially when the mother has a few screws loose.
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carisma_sensei
Re: Your comment to me:
Date: 2004-11-02 05:25 am (UTC)Hmmmm....Let's see
Two cousins over the age of 20 (one of them is 40 now and still mentally 7). One cousin with ADD. A great Aunt I helped to take care of while she took 8 long aweful agonizing months to die of cancer (and in the last month, she was so far gone that she lay in bed, staring. She didn't even have the strength to close her eyes.) My Grandfather, who died of Leigh Gerricks (sorry, forgot the spelling) disease two years ago on Valentines day, Another grnadmother by marriage, also so infirm (and yet active enough that she could thrash around and sort of peter around the house if you didn't keep an eye on her), that was bed-ridden *and* had Alzhiemers. I got to babysit her on a regular basis so my uncle could actually leave the house occasionally and do something *other* than take care of her.
So, do I have disabled relatives--ones that I've had to at least *help* to take care of? Oh yes, I do, and I did, and I will in the future. And that's not even counting the ones with psychological problems, including myself.
And I *do* work in a hospital--I run the receiving dock. Although I am not directly responsible for any patient care, I am expected to treat the patients, their families, and the medical staff who deal with them (many of whom are pompous asshats), with respect, dignity, and courtesy. Oh, and help them out as well. Which I do--without whining about it or expecting some sort of gracious return.
And, as for the 'Well, they'll still be that way at 80'.
Uh, yeah...and by then my father, who may or may not get any of the diseases mentioned above, or any of several thousand other ones, will need me--his *only* daughter and child, to help take care of *him* like he took care of me in my teen years. Because age is the ultimate crippler--and I am, after all his family. It's an unwritten obligation, or at least it used to be, for everyone</> with loved ones. Not to mention that I love him--that alone is worth any shit I may have to go through in order to help him out when he finally needs it from me instead of the other way around.
As for sneering? Sweetie, I've had an abortion--one that was against my will, but that those of my family who knew I was pregnant pretty much strong-armed me into having. There were no other options of help offered by them or anyone else at the time. It was 'you will' or 'you leave'. I was young, stupid and weak willed and I let them. And even now, I'm sure I'll never forgive myself for abandoning my child that way. If you like, I can give you a whole dissertation on the subject, right down to the scalples they used and the giant shop vac that the fetus was sucked into after they were done scraping it loose. I will note, by the way that although they give you morphine or another pain killer, that it really doesn't keep the sensation of having the insides of your guts ripped loose from hurting--it just makes it so you don't give a shit.
And you know what? If I weren't financially strapped, and knew for a fact that my own mental instabilities would not end up hurting my child in any way, I *would* adopt a child, or three, or five, if it meant keeping them from getting conveniently gotten rid of by way of abortion. Unfortunately, my circumstances and my own suspect nature are not where I would like them to be in order to feel I could raise a child correctly and well. I have plenty of love--but that is often not enough, especially when the mother has a few screws loose.
(TBC...)