There are to many details of Patti's illnesses and hospitalizations to include here. It would make this way to long. Maybe at some point I may tell more later.
Patti started drinking at a very early age. I felt like she wouldn't make it to her 30th birthday. I wish to this day that I was wrong. She would drink practically 24/7 at times. There would be breaks here and there. This must have been around age 19 or 20. Her younger brothers would at times go downtown Seattle to look for her in some of the taverns that she would drink in, in the hopes of getting her to sober up. Later on, of course the drinking was starting to catch up with her and her liver. There was something else catching up with her, that she didn't know right away, and when she did find out, she hid it from everyone.
Finally, in 1993, with (once again) no where to turn, and more sick then ever, Patti decided to go to Treatment for Alcoholism. She was feeling much better after being in treatment, came out, went to a 'half-way' type apartment house, and got Social Security disability. She hated the half-way house, and left it, stayed with me until she got her subsidized housing.
About 2 years before this, Patti's boyfriend, Wendell, whom she cared for so much, died from pneumonia. It was unspoken between Patti, a close friend of hers and myself , that he probably died from Aids related pneumonia. His family said nothing. All we knew for positive was that he died from pneumonia.
Patti had been told at the Treatment Center she should be checked for Aids/HIV. She was checked, and her T count was so low it was almost non-existent. I believe her T-count was like '40', and I think normally it's supposed to be over 750 to be considered good.
After doing so well for nine months, Patti relapsed. Her brothers and I knew right away something was wrong. When she would drink - she would totally disappear. By this time she had gotten her own subsidized apartment, and wasn't there or anywhere to be found. After a two to three days, she came to my apartment. I was at work, but the manager let her in to my place. She called me - very drunk - at my job. Fortunately I worked 5 blocks away from my apartment. I told her to stay there I would be home immediately. She was having hallucinations, big time. Also, she was shaking real bad. This is what is called delirium tremors. I called 911 to get her to Harborview Hospital. I rode in the front with the driver. We talked about how it was good that people used the latex gloves, and protect themselves against the possibilities of being infected.
When we got to the ER, the Triage Nurse tried to tell me, Patti wasn't having D.T.'s at all, she hadn't been drinking long enough. I told her bull-o-nee. (Ha! That's not what I really said!) She got checked into ER, before I went into a raging snit-fit. (Its so true that the medical profession on the whole do not know quite as much about alcohol and drug abuse as they should. It is getting better tho.) I went to sit in the waiting room. On the medics way out, the driver stopped by and told me that he heard Patti tell the medical staff that she had Aids/HIV. I was stunned, needless to say.
I immediately went to the room where she was, and asked her why she didn't tell me that she was sick. The only answer she would ever give me was that she didn't want anyone to know. How was I supposed to get angry at her, and/or be in fear of her disease? I told her, that she was my daughter, we would do whatever was needed to do. I was not afraid of Aids/HIV in itself, only in what it can do to people. Ignorance of the facts about Aids/HIV and what the illness does to people is scary.
Patti started drinking at a very early age. I felt like she wouldn't make it to her 30th birthday. I wish to this day that I was wrong. She would drink practically 24/7 at times. There would be breaks here and there. This must have been around age 19 or 20. Her younger brothers would at times go downtown Seattle to look for her in some of the taverns that she would drink in, in the hopes of getting her to sober up. Later on, of course the drinking was starting to catch up with her and her liver. There was something else catching up with her, that she didn't know right away, and when she did find out, she hid it from everyone.
Finally, in 1993, with (once again) no where to turn, and more sick then ever, Patti decided to go to Treatment for Alcoholism. She was feeling much better after being in treatment, came out, went to a 'half-way' type apartment house, and got Social Security disability. She hated the half-way house, and left it, stayed with me until she got her subsidized housing.
About 2 years before this, Patti's boyfriend, Wendell, whom she cared for so much, died from pneumonia. It was unspoken between Patti, a close friend of hers and myself , that he probably died from Aids related pneumonia. His family said nothing. All we knew for positive was that he died from pneumonia.
Patti had been told at the Treatment Center she should be checked for Aids/HIV. She was checked, and her T count was so low it was almost non-existent. I believe her T-count was like '40', and I think normally it's supposed to be over 750 to be considered good.
After doing so well for nine months, Patti relapsed. Her brothers and I knew right away something was wrong. When she would drink - she would totally disappear. By this time she had gotten her own subsidized apartment, and wasn't there or anywhere to be found. After a two to three days, she came to my apartment. I was at work, but the manager let her in to my place. She called me - very drunk - at my job. Fortunately I worked 5 blocks away from my apartment. I told her to stay there I would be home immediately. She was having hallucinations, big time. Also, she was shaking real bad. This is what is called delirium tremors. I called 911 to get her to Harborview Hospital. I rode in the front with the driver. We talked about how it was good that people used the latex gloves, and protect themselves against the possibilities of being infected.
When we got to the ER, the Triage Nurse tried to tell me, Patti wasn't having D.T.'s at all, she hadn't been drinking long enough. I told her bull-o-nee. (Ha! That's not what I really said!) She got checked into ER, before I went into a raging snit-fit. (Its so true that the medical profession on the whole do not know quite as much about alcohol and drug abuse as they should. It is getting better tho.) I went to sit in the waiting room. On the medics way out, the driver stopped by and told me that he heard Patti tell the medical staff that she had Aids/HIV. I was stunned, needless to say.
I immediately went to the room where she was, and asked her why she didn't tell me that she was sick. The only answer she would ever give me was that she didn't want anyone to know. How was I supposed to get angry at her, and/or be in fear of her disease? I told her, that she was my daughter, we would do whatever was needed to do. I was not afraid of Aids/HIV in itself, only in what it can do to people. Ignorance of the facts about Aids/HIV and what the illness does to people is scary.
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