Here's the story so far, two days gone already, no real updates, although I expect one soon. Sorry to those who have seen this for the drama repeat, but here it is:
Aaagh! My family is insane. Besides all of the JW crap from my parents and brother, (which admittedly has not been that bad lately,) I have a bunch of crazy-ass relatives. I think my husband is secretly in constant fear that I will end up like them... I'm only hoping that I continue taking after the somewhat "normal" few relatives on my dad's side.
Saga to-date: My Grandfather is a stubborn and paranoid man. He was a small boy during the Depression and they moved out here to Oregon when he was a young man pre-WWII because his mother went to work in the shipyards. He has one sister, my great aunt, who is either one year younger or older, I can never remember. He was a travelling salesman for a number of years. He is also an accomplished artist in the stained glass medium, and can produce a Tiffanny replica that is nearly indistiguishable from the original. He never misses an opportunity to goad my parents about evolution, science, hypnotism or whatever else he thinks might offend a JW. It's great entertainment.
There have been years of his life when he didn't talk to his sister or daughter because of some perceived slight. He is also paranoid that everyone is always out to get him. This is not a new paranoia, although as he reached his late 70s, he began to get more irrationally paranoid--probably as a result of medications.
Enter this last month. About 3 weeks ago he came down with a stomach flu. He got severely dehydrated, delusional, and decided he was dying. He lied to my mother about the results of his last doctor visit, (told her the doctor said his 15 y.o. heart bypass valves were failing.) Then he busily set about the task of dying. "Because a person just knows when they are dying." My mother, being the emotional person she is, has swallowed every bit of this and has been being "supportive."
Grandfather went off all of his medications in preparation for "dying fast." Hypertension, heart meds, and I don't know whatallelse. He also quit eating or drinking anything. Although I hear he can be tempted with hot chocolate. Finally, he started saying that "dying people can have morphine to help them be comfortable. Get me some morphine." My mom, finally getting a little commonsense breakthrough, told him "you have to go to the doctor yourself and get the morphine." So they go to the Doc. He says "Jim, you're not dying, you have the flu. Get yourself rehydrated and you'll be fine."
In the meantime, my parents take the opportunity to clean up his condo a little while he's in outpatient getting a drip-IV. My mom goes to change the sheets on his bed, and lo and behold, there's a loaded gun IN THE BED! Not in the nightstand, not under the mattress, but IN THE BED BETWEEN THE SHEETS!!!
Dad calls and tells me this. I ask, "was it loaded?" he says, yeah, you know how paranoid he is. So I ask what they did with it... he says that they finished changing the bedding and PUT IT BACK IN THE BED!!!
Two days later they call me and say they are at the condo with the paramedics. Apparently, early Monday (?- days are blurring together,) morning he decided he didn't care what the Doc said, he was most certainly dying. Since he couldn't get the morphine, (by the way, he's not in pain other than the flu-stomach cramps,) he'd do the next-best.
He shot himself through the mouth. I'm not sure what he was aiming at, but he shot a hole in his tongue, blew his lips off, and messed up his teeth that he just paid $2500 in dental work last month. Other than that, he'll be "fine." Whatever they think that means. Personally, I don't know what to think of all of this. I'm not particularly close to my Grandfather, and don't like to see him suffer, but really, he's NUTS.
It's getting to the point that I don't want to answer the phone. After all the drama with my loonie-tunes Grandmother last year, "They're trying to KILL ME and STEAL MY SHOES!" so... just sittin' near the phone, wondering what's next.
Well, they have him in the Trauma ward up at OHSU as of Monday night. I'm hoping when he is ready to leave trauma, they will hold him in Psych. He isn't ready to leave the hospital, in my opinion, and anyone with 1/2 a brain could have seen the suicide attempt coming, but my mom seems totally shocked.
I haven't been to see him. I have a bad cold, but I keep getting these reports that seem crazier by the moment. Of course, my mother probably doesn't trust a psych eval, but hopefully it is out of her hands, and into the hands of the experts.
I really don't think he'll make it very long. He'll find some way to off himself as soon as they let him out.
When my dad first called to tell me about it, I couldn't figure out why grandpa didn't just take all of the pills he's got laying around. He has enough meds to kill the entire cavalry. I would imagine that's next.
It is terribly sad though. In the last 9 years, nearly everyone who means anything to him has died. His mother (my great-grandmother) was a spit-fire, smart, capable, active. She died quickly and horribly from mesothelioma, (asbestos cancer.) He doesn't have a woman in his life, he is estranged off and on from his only sibling. He has one child--my mother, and she is a JW, so they have been "busy" since they converted in '74. Sure, they see him, but no holidays, birthdays, father's day, etc. Plus, he divorced my crazy grandmother when my mom was only 2 or 3.
All of his friends have been dying, one by one. All of his golf buddies are dead now. Plus they doubled the green fee at his favorite golf course, so he can't afford to play golf like he used to, which is really his only activity.
I had really hoped he'd go quick and easy with a catastrophic heart failure (given his history.) It has been obvious to me that he's quite done with sticking around. It's just sad to see it all happen like this.