The Fat Lady Just Won't Sing

My friends and I are on our way back home, I call his cousin, who did call while we were at the bus station- and I played the part well. She's asking me if he's on the bus, I'm replying with "I can come over and take care of that on uh, Thursday work for you?"

She's not stupid, she takes the hint. I return her call as soon as we are back in the car, inform her how things went and that yes, he's on that bus. We project the idea he could change buses in Chicago and head back to Albuquerque, but whatever he does now is not my problem and she in complete agreement. We decide to keep in touch and I'll keep her informed if anything interesting occurs. And it does stay a bit interesting.

Dan is scheduled to arrive in NYC on the next day, at 11:25am. I'm just hoping that he stays on that bus.

I'm wiped out, I'm literally coming down from an emotionally stressful "trip" of 5 long days of hearing nothing but deluded garbage, observing some really odd behavior, watching someone who can't handle being left alone for any length of time, as he slowly starts coming apart at the seams.

I've also had to examine my own motives and what led up to this experience- which led right back to Altruism and my own need for a sense of accomplishment or feeling good about "giving back", which would have never amounted to anything close to what my intentions truly were. Yes, I spent a terrible amount of time beating myself up, feeling ashamed- for bringing this situation to my life, home, family and community. The lesson was invaluable and I won't repeat anything like that ever again.

Listening to someone consistently contradicting their own values and ideas was a huge drain on my own energy. I have a farily decent memory of the past and don't appreciate someone telling me they remember something that I did that never occurred. I find that exceptionally unacceptable. I had a mother that pulled the same garbage on me most of my adult life and I recognize that deluded crap as soon as it's spewing out someone's mouth. He's told me he doesn't drink coffee, yet, he drinks coffee. He has told me he doesn't watch that mindless crap on TV, yet he was asking me if TV was available at the house he was in. I should have just asked him point blank if he was shootin' heroin, which I'm sure he would have said "No", which would have been the exact opposite answer anyway, because he's a walking contradiction of a human being.

Listening to his perceptions on his own chosen religious faith, Orthodox Judaism, was a total delusion, for his basic knowledge of their history was so off the mark when it came to basic facts, I was finding myself wanting to point out his erroneous "facts", but realized that his delusions were a mark of his personality in general. Narcissists commonly hide behind organized religion, using and twisting it to excuse their own irrational and warped behaviors, because in essence, they really don't understand the history, doctrines or tenets of the beliefs- their motive is based in grandiose thought processes, not in true devotion. Don't forget the fact, he, the narcissist, in his mind, believes that he is holier than thou, if not one of the true chosen. This is a person that has converted to Orthodox Judaism and claims that Jews believe in large families to propagate for the sole purpose of replacing those that were lost during the holocaust. When that statement came pouring out of his mouth, I was just chomping at the bit to start tearing into his real knowledge of the Torah, because that is not the tenet of the Jewish faith defining "going forth and multiplying". The Talmud defines it simply to mean that every Jewish man should father at least one boy and one girl. Judaism, does in fact, accept birth control in various forms, including the use of the pill. It does discourage the use of condoms, except to prevent the spread of STD's. I could have cleaned his collective clock on religious beliefs if I really wanted to expend the energy, I was distracted with the fact that his personality was too bizarre to worry about intelligent debate and ripping religious doctrine into shreds.

Narcissists are also commonly engaged in drug and/or alcohol abuse, it's just another behavior to minimize their fragile self-esteem. It was evident immediately that Dan was still using and found himself in an environment that wasn't feeding his addictions and it was only a matter of time before he would have found a way to obtain what he wanted. I just don't have time for that. Nor, do I have time to play "rehab center".

Dan was also very secretive and evasive about his history, family and other real facts about his present situation, when a normal person would have been more candid- not working at hiding simple truths or giving out vague answers. He had nothing negative to say about his "children", even embellishing their accomplishments, of course those were due to his "exemplary parenting skills". These stories were obviously half-truths, in fact I'd be willing to bet that they were simply delusions of grandeur on his part- because as the hours went by, more and more came out from him and he's starting to denigrate them to some degree. Especially the youngest, who (I found this out to be fact after he left) is 25.

Before he arrived here, during our conversations about what was going on in his life (I'm still kicking myself for ever, ever suggesting he come here for help, because all the signs of a fragmented 'story' are blatantly obvious), he had told me about his daughter in Albuquerque, who is supposedly graduating from Nursing School at UNM this year. I specifically stated that it was important that I had some contact information for his family members, for emergency purposes, since he was coming here. Trust me, the drugs that are used for treatment of Hepatitis C will invariably cause some type of event, physical or mental. So, I was prodding him to provide family contact information.

Some of the correspondence was as follows:

Dan: My family didn't know my condition neither did anyone in NYC except my Rabbi. (first clue, I wasn't paying attention) This dude literally got to end stage liver disease, due to HepC and he has kept this from his own children, family and WTF? How the hell does one end up in end stage liver disease and hide the real cause? I realize that the disease is highly stigmatized, but this is just a bit strange.

I reply in an email: Your brother doesn't know? NONE of your family knows that you have this disease?

Sorry, I just find this a bit difficult to comprehend- of course, when I first asked him, "What's up with this new liver deal?", all he chose to tell me is he had liver cancer, only telling me the truth about his true health problem came to light when I told him about my ordeal with treatment and clearing the virus. Of course, I wasn't buying the "liver cancer" story, only because 10% of patients in need of liver transplantation for liver cancer alone, will get one and they're reserved for patients with small cell tumors- the leading cause of liver transplantation is Hepatitis C and it is the leading cause of liver cancer. I can add 2 and 2, I still come up with 4.

I'm still not getting the clue that I really need, because the emails (I still review them) were getting just plain uh, weird. I'm pushing him to at least send me contact information for immediate family, not so I can call them and tell them what a wonderful, stupid altruist I am, but so I'd have them on file in case of an emergency. He states this several emails later, which none of them were focused on the situation at hand, a day or two before he's scheduled to fly here:

"I've told those who matter that I'm leaving on a very special trip and try to explain the situation in a vague sort of fashion."

I'm really astounded at this strange "secrecy" that surrounds this plan of action, what he's been offered, etc; not to mention he has never informed his own children of his serious disease. The only thing I'm NOT worried about at this point is the fact I know we are not going to literally finance his medical care.

Finally, he starts coming forth with some immediate family contact information, emailing me his daughter's phone number and email address.

"Please call my daughter in the p.m. as she will be out all day. Also please try to emphasise our friendship because I did."

I call, per his request- I email, the email bounces- she never, ever returned my call. Geez, like maybe there's a reason for this? Some real caring children he has and I'm still not "getting it". The weirdness of that request was odd, though. I don't really feel a need to explain anything to anyone about what is trying to be accomplished here, especially when he's telling me on the phone, "My daughter doesn't know about the Hepatitis C, so don't say anything" So, like what the heck am I supposed to tell this young woman? I'm bringing your father here because I have nothing better to do, a ton of money to blow and because I've not seen him in 34 years, I just thought I'd be nice and my husband and I will let him live in our house, rent-free just because we're nice people? Yeah, I'm starting to realize that maybe all of this is a very foolish idea. He's too secretive and manipulative. He's trying to direct the show here and my hackles are raised.

I should have canceled that flight, right then and there. And of course, it all came to light that were explained in detail in my previous posts and things continued to be validated even AFTER he was sent to NYC.

I'm home, I'm going to lay down and chill out- the mental exhaustion is overwhelming and I need to literally clear my head. I rest for a while, go outside to commune with my flock of young chickens and ducks that I raised this spring, hang out with the Queen of the Universe, too. I have to say, when one's brain is on overload and you need to get back to what is basic, go hang out with some animals. That will bring you right back down to what life is really all about.

I come back in the house for a while, check email and there's a message on my phone. It's the Seattle Police, just leaving a message that his laptop was shipped on the 8th. Okay, no need to call them. I go back out for a while, piddle around in the flower bed, which is in dire need of weeding. I come back in and there is another message- from the mother of Dan's youngest son. She leaves a number, I give her the courtesy of a return call and inform her that Dan is on his way to NYC. What I don't tell her is the real circumstances and she gives me an earful. She's nice and I reciprocate in a mature, friendly manner. Everything I suspected is validated- yes, he was shooting heroin when he was in Albuquerque, yes, he was blowing his entire SSI check on it, she tried helping him, too. She also states, "He was staying at his brother's trailer and he would call me to tell me he didn't like being alone, so I would go over and fix him some food to eat, watch TV with him". She also added, "All my Uncles were junkies and Dan never fooled me, he was into it every time he was here- he was into it when he lived in Seattle and probably in New York". I'm getting quite an earful. But, I'm not surprised in the least and really relieved that he's gone from my world. So, to summarize, I was onto it like flies on a cowpie. I just wasn't paying attention because that evil altruistic side of me needed a valuable lesson.

Husband and I go over to the other house, to feed the cats and check things out in the place. I had bought him food he chose, simple basic items- there is a container of yogurt on the floor, open. Only 2 eggs out of the dozen I gave him on day two are gone. Fresh ear corn is in the fridge, drying up. I strip the bedding, collect the towels, find he's left a pair of pants and a shirt. There is a small mirror with no frame beside the bed. My imagination goes into overtime and I'm ready to hurl chunks, my husband verbalizes exactly what I was thinking. I can't even laugh, because he's probably correct.

2 more days pass and no word from Dan- no email with a forwarding address, no phone call (thankfully so). I email on Thursday night, telling him his laptop arrived on Tuesday, if I don't hear something from him by this weekend, I will return it to the Seattle Police and he can deal with them to get it back. He replies the next morning, claiming "You sound upset". Wow, I can't imagine where he pulled that out of. He also states he'll send me an address that afternoon. I believe he told me time and time again that he had an apartment in NYC, in his "community" of Orthodox Jews. Now, he's got to figure out an address to use. Okay. I get it. I'm sure he got there and had to go score some smack, after all, he was sure on the fritz here in the cornfields of Iowa. It's only been 3 days since he arrived. I email back, "fine, just get your act together and the laptop with some of your other things you left will be shipped on Monday". He replies again, adding in: The question is, why didn't you let me know on Tuesday that you had received the laptop? He also includes someone's address, another name with "c/o" to him on it.

Narcissists have a weird sense of time, add in the fact that everything is about them, or they try and make it about them, their superiority complex thrown in the mix to add to the confusion and no doubt the dude has been spending the last few days scoring and getting high, now it's my fault he wasn't contacted immediately when the package arrived here from Seattle on Tuesday, so I reply:

Dan,

It was left up to you on Monday to send me an address when you arrived wherever you landed. It seems to me that on Tuesday, you were still en route to NYC. I waited 2 more days to hear something out of you and you didn't respond until I emailed you.

So, projecting the responsibility of notifying you about the arrival of your laptop back onto me isn't working.

Yes, this is truly like coping with a 5 year old. And it's pissing me off. I have put his clothing (no, I didn't wash his pants and shirt, so slap me), the mirror and a jar of shoe polish, which oddly enough was "green" and he had black dress shoes. He must be freakin' color-blind on top of his other mental problems, for crying out loud, in the box, re-tape it all.

He emails back and sends me a DIFFERENT address, which when I google it, it's a public mail box center. Not a Post Office, one of those "mail drop" centers. This box is going UPS, I'm not spending the bucks on USPS, I'm not insuring it, I'm putting the first address he gave me as the return address, so if it gets lost, it goes back to whomever he gave me an address for and who knows if UPS delivers to drop boxes in New York City? Not my problem.......

I wait until Tuesday to send it. I have other things to do. Because on Saturday, things flipped.

And the Oscar goes to.......

I didn't sleep much Saturday night, had the alarm set for 6:30a, woke up at 4a- the anticipation is not a healthy, normal feeling, it's feelings of virtual dread.

Friends arrive at 7:30, we take my car, plans are to have us womenfolk in the back seat, her husband is driving my car. He's armed. I'm not. I'm thinking, too many weapons might NOT be a good idea. Time for everyone to act natural, like picking someone up, packing their few belongings, slamming them onto a bus for another coast is just an everyday occurrence. Right, got it.

We arrive at the house, the door is locked and I did remember to bring the key with me, but the back door is open so I stick my head in and yell, "Dan, are you up?"

He's still in bed. I yell again, "Dan! You have to get up, we need to go, the plans have changed and I have a ticket to get you to NYC!" I go through the house to the front door, open it to let my friends in, we start packing his stuff (laptop, cables and a few other things). I'm grabbing his insulin and other meds out of the refrigerator, putting those out so they aren't forgotten.

He wanders out of the bedroom and says, "Do I have time to take a shower?"

"No, just wash your face, you are scheduled to depart in just a little while, so we need to get moving!" (I purposely left "bus" out of any comments until we got close enough to the bus station).

We are throwing things together while he's doing God knows what in the bathroom, I'm not going to allow for any distractions, this dude is freakin' OUT OF HERE.

Dan finally appears from the bathroom and he says, "What happened?"

I hate to lie. I really detest dishonesty. I hate playing games. I hate to put on a performance, period. Sometimes, we find ourselves in those positions that really require a "massive dose of pure bullshit" in order to save ourselves and I poured it on like a pro.

"The Best Clinic on the Planet notified me that they were not going to take new patients and thought it best that you go back to your original doctor who did your transplant and consult with him concerning treatment, so I managed to get you a ticket to NYC and fortunately, my friends here were going that way and are coming along with us!"

I lied like a rug, so sue me. I truly did the Best Clinic on the Planet a huge, huge favor in the long run, even the majority of the taxpayers in this country a favor, really. The future waste of money, time and God knows what else was getting nipped in the bud and I'm putting on the performance of a lifetime. But, it's working....... he's participating in the packing of his few belongings and we are on our way out the door!

We get to the car, I say, "You ride in the front, Dan, with my friend, who will be driving, us women will sit in the back"

Remember, I'm dealing with a true Narcissistic Personality and classic symptoms include (believe me, I was thoroughly researching this disorder immediately AFTER his arrival):

• He or she has a grandiose sense of self-importance (exaggerates
  accomplishments and demands to be considered superior without real
  evidence of achievement).
• He or she lives in a dream world of exceptional success, power, beauty, genius, or "perfect" love.
• He or she thinks of him- or herself as "special" or privileged, and that he or she can only be understood by other special or high-status people.
• He or she demands excessive amounts of praise or admiration from others.
• He or she feels entitled to automatic deference, compliance, or favorable treatment from others.
• He or she is exploitative towards others and takes advantage of them.
• He or she lacks empathy and does not recognize or identify with others' feelings.
• He or she is frequently envious of others or thinks that they are envious of him or her.
• He or she "has an attitude" or frequently acts in haughty or arrogant ways.

Yep, putting Dan in the "front" seat with another "man" and us chicks riding in the back is a fairly blatant maneuver, after all, he's just so special and superior in his mind and I'm using that fact to the maximum manipulations allowed.

I'm feeling fairly secure he's not going to put up a fight, argue or anything else that would ruin his fragile self-image, simply due to the fact, he's in the company of strangers and outnumbered.

We are on our way- a 40 minute drive to the bus station, my friend is driving a tad over the speed limit and I'm worrying to death we are going to have something really stupid happen, like a flat tire. The three of us (not Dan, mind you) are making small talk, acting abnormally normal. Yap, yap about trivial crap, local gossip and "oh man, isn't it a nice day?" Which it truly was. It was seriously one of the best days in my Dark Comedy of a Life.

I'm literally PRAYING that we don't get a flat or end up in a vehicular incident with some other jerk on the road. I'm thinking the worst of things, worrying that some karmic monkey wrench is going to be slammed into the proverbial windshield as we are traveling down the highway to the bus station.

Three quarters of the way to the bus station, he says something about a "flight" and I immediately reply, "I got you a bus ticket". He doesn't react, he's cool. He's screwed, because as God is my witness, this dude is getting ON THAT BUS.

The bus station isn't open for another 30 minutes and we arrive at 8:45a or so, the bus is scheduled to depart at 10a, I was told on Sunday to be there one hour early. I don't see any TSA agents around the bus station, so we sit outside, making small talk in the little park with a lovely fountain that contains blue dye in it. I whip out my little Canon Elph (yeah, I left the big boys home- no need in dragging expensive cameras around when the potential for weirdness is looking at you in the face) and start taking pictures of the fountain. Dan notices I'm taking photos....... and predictably, he's moving towards the camera. I indulge him, mainly for the benefit of his cousin, who hasn't seen him in 10 years.

The bus station, which is also the Amtrak station, opens. We all move back inside, the clerk inside the enclosed kiosk is elderly, moves like he's in the third stages of rigor mortis. I'm observing him pecking on the keyboard, with his middle finger, finding the correct keys so slowly I just want to scream. My patience is wearing very thin and considering the last 5 days of coping with one of the most bizarre individuals that I've ever encountered, listening to his skewed perceptions on life, himself, his children, himself, his "work", himself, his transplant, himself, his Rabbi, himself...........

The clerk at the bus ticket kiosk is slowing pecking away, taking care of another passenger and I'm standing in line, waiting on my turn and finally, after at least 10 minutes (trust me, this dude was slower than molasses in January), I say, "I need to pick up a ticket for Dan So and So, destination, NYC."

"Where the passenger?" I point to Dan and then the ticket agent hands me a form, which has yesterdays date on it and says, "He needs to sign this". I'm literally hanging ON to the form, with my thumb OVER the date of purchase while Dan signs the form, then the ticket agent who really is in dire need of retirement, starts pecking slowly away at the keyboard again, moving    

through   

the   

fields   

of   

the   

software   

and   

various

menus,   

so   

the   

ticket   

will   

print.

I just want to bust through that door, shove this old boy aside and show him how to run that computer. I take a deep, deep breath and force myself to chill out. We're almost there.

Time to get back on the stage and play the role. I pull the only cash I have left from my wallet, $25.00 and walk over to Dan and hand it to him- "Here's some money, so you can get something to eat on your way to NYC." He takes it and merely states, "Yeah, I need some money". Which follows with, "I had been looking online at tickets, you know, I was thinking of going back to New York and I really wanted to go back to New York, I would have never made it here for a year". I'm empathetic and reply in a very caring, nice manner, "I know how you feel, there isn't much activity here on the farm " (all while I'm thinking, "No shit, I would have ended up killing you and feeding you to some hogs before another week was up")

The bus finally arrives, there is a God.

People come boiling out of the bus, lighting up and taking a short break- we are all standing around the door, just waiting for the driver to take Dan's bag, shove it underneath the bus and Dan spots 3 Hispanic chicks. He immediately walks away from us, over to the these girls, young enough to be his daughters and starts chatting them up.

My friends and I are looking at each other, his behavior and desperately trying not to crack up. I state, in a very low, quiet tone, "Well, that will keep him on the bus." I'm feeling better about this every single second that goes by. The bus driver is just about ready to load the passengers. I can hardly contain my joy.

Dan walks back over, as he's about to board the bus and says, "Tell your husband thanks for everything". I'm chopped liver, but hey, I'm happy to be chopped liver. Really. Then, he says, "When my laptop arrives, you will send it to me?"

"Of course, however, when you arrive in New York, email me an address, so I can send it and any other mail that arrives"

The bus is boarding. I repeat to Dan, "Be sure and send me a physical address when you get there so I can send you your laptop and mail"

He gets on the bus, the door finally shuts. The bus starts pulling out and I want my Academy Award now, thank you.

 

Day Three & Four, Saturday & Sunday

Husband and I have been discussing the "problem" child off and on when we've had the actual chance to talk. We're still being uh, nice, by all appearances, but when I tell him of the conversation that took place and his demand for a lease, husband is right on the same page as I am. Now, my husband is starting to take note and commenting on Dan's obvious self-centered attitude. Husband comments, "He makes everything about "him", "I don't think he has a clue what it is it actually work for a living", among other observations.

I'm busy trying to figure out how in the hell to get this jackass out of our lives.

We're getting ready to go pick him up at 7:45, taking him along to a community breakfast, served by the local Amish community and he walks over to our home. Thankfully, the windows were shut from the night before, because we're literally talking about him, ripping to shreds all his idiosyncrasies and everything else we can find wrong about him.

I ride in the back seat of hubby's truck, we pick up one of our hired Amish dudes and proceed to the breakfast. I"m having a difficult time even looking him in the eye after last night, so I just go on about my usual business, chatting with people in the community, picking out some food and sitting down at a table with people I know. Husband and Dan end up over at the table and then Dan looks at me and says, "191!". Hmmm, okay.

"Oh, that was your blood sugar?" As I'm checking out the pancakes, syrup and a sweet roll laden with icing on his plate.

"Yes, isn't that good?"

"Sure, you betcha"

I feel a sudden need to run screaming from the room, I just cannot deal with this immature, "I need constant praise and attention" freak. I get up to go outside to smoke, he follows me- I've got one of the cameras with me, so I'm shooting some photos of buggies and other stuff I'm checking out, just to look busy, for crying out loud, and he's just following me around.

We leave and go to the Amish furniture store- we all know each other, this is the community that I have inhabited for 25 years and Dan is so out of his element and reacting so strangely (you would have just had to have been there), he's not the center of attention, but basically behaving himself.

6 of us are conversing in a group and everyone is literally ignoring him. He's wandering around the store, I'm planted in a rocker, chatting with an Amish who owns the store and I'm watching Dan, across the room, standing at a full length mirror, just gazing at himself. No one says a thing and I'm sure not bringing this to anyone's attention, I'm so freakin' embarrassed.

Then, Dan walks over to me and says, "You need to put that mirror in your other house".

"Why?"

"Well, I'll just give them some money on it and I'll buy it".

I bit my tongue. Literally BIT it. My brain is screaming:

• Free plane ticket to utopia
• Free place to live
• Free utilities
• Wants a lease
• Wants pain medications
  
• Wants a $400.00 mirror

Okay, so he's seriously abnormal, I get it, I really do get it.

We all end up back here at my house, the guys go out to get their work done on the farm, Dan is ON MY PHONE, again and using his laptop online. I'm starting to get dinner ready (noon meal), Dan walks in the kitchen and asks AGAIN, "What do you take for pain? My legs just hurt so bad"

I hand him the entire bottle of ibuprofen AND a new bottle of 500mg OTC tylenol. He says, "Don't you have anything stronger?"

"No, this is what I take, this is what you get"

He goes back to his laptop and makes another call and my ears are perking right up, like a dog that hears something off in the distance.

He's on the phone, calling someone and I hear, "Uh, don't forget to uh, send me the uh, uh......... books".

Dinner is served, he doesn't even give us the courtesy of coming to the table (geez, that immature pouting again?), we all eat and I announce, "I'm taking you back to the house, I've got things to do". No argument, I drop him off and as he's getting out of the car, he says, "Why don't you call some of your friends and tell them you've got a lonely guy over here?"

I'm seriously trying not to crack up at this ridiculous request. "Dan, get real, all my friends are married." And I drop him off, get back into my own humble abode and call his cousin. I fill her in with all the latest, including his demands for a lease.

The conversation went basically like this:

"I was really, really hoping that Dan would get his act together for once in his life, I'm so sorry- just get him out of there"

"Does he have a history of violence?"

"No, he's never done anything violent, he's used to this- just get him on a bus or something and get him out of there"

"I'm looking at flights, I'm not spending $500 bucks on a plane ticket, I'm in this deep enough"

"Please, don't get him a ticket back to Albuquerque, my mom just can't take anymore of his problems"

"I'll get him a bus ticket to NYC"

That evening, husband and I are not coping with what we have to do- he knows that this is not working, but the compassionate side of him is saying, "We're sending him out in the world to die", I'm to the point, "Who cares? He obviously doesn't care, why should we and he's a freakin' liability- he's going to hurt himself and then we'll end up being sued, we don't need this"

The decision is made, I won't go back over to the house to say a word, I can't stomach this situation, I just want him out of our lives, out of my world.

Husband goes over that evening to check on him, feeds the cats. Imagine that.

Next morning, I'm on the phone with Trailways, booking a one-way ticket to NYC, then I'm calling my friends to ride along with me on Monday morning to take him to the bus station 40 miles away.

Husband covers my butt for the day, telling Dan, "My wife is somewhat worn out today and just needs to rest a bit, so she won't be coming over to get you" and I'm pulling out all the stops with the phone company, canceling the phone/DSL order, emailing the contact at the Best Clinic on the Planet and explaining to them the only details they needed to know and he would not be needing a consult, was being sent back to his own gastroenterologist in NYC.

Husband has contractors coming on Monday morning, his hands full, so I spend most of the night on the phone with my friends, we plot, we scheme, we play out every conceivable scenario and do we need to arm ourselves? We're literally are projecting the worst and coming up with game plans if this or that occurs and working ourselves into neurotic freaks over what could happen if this doesn't happen without incident. I just knew that if I tried taking him alone to the bus station, that he was going to put up some kind of argument and I just wanted to get him out of here before he had a moment to think about what was going to occur early Monday morning.

His cousin and I are calling each other quite a bit and she agrees, don't take him alone to the bus station, have people with you, he won't dare start any trouble if there are others going along for the ride.

Next up (and I won't get this posted for a day, at least- I will say this, my performance was Oscar worthy.

Day Two, Friday

The release forms from the Best Clinic on the Planet have arrived via email- I have to give these people credit, they know how to get the job DONE. I get them downloaded and printed. I plan on re-scanning them after they are filled out by Danny-boy and emailing them back to the "BCP".  Believe me, I spent a year going back and forth to that wonderful institution and the people there just rock! The place works like a well-oiled machine and every single person that I came into contact with treated me like a human and not a number, from the lab techs to the doctors- every experience was all that is right with the world.

Husband picks up Dan first thing, he arrives while I'm getting some things done (the usual checking email, news and other nonsensical activity, before I start preparing the noon meal. He walks in and I give him some time to get his laptop up and going, then ask, "What was your blood sugar this morning?"

"What blood sugar?"

"You didn't take your blood sugar? Did you take your insulin or even eat breakfast?"

"No".

It's apparent, he's definitely a non-compliant diabetic. He's a liability. This one is NOT interested in truly attempting to treat his disease, he doesn't even care about his diabetes or blood sugar levels.

I fix him something to eat, suggest he bring over some insulin to leave here and his extra test kit. I'm not real impressed and I make light that if he's not compliant with his diabetes, he's not showing dedication that he will need to treat for his HCV. He starts acting like a child again. Pouting. I'm coming to the realization that this is a total waste of time.

I hand him the release forms, he ignores them. I start the noon meal, he comes in the kitchen and asks, "What do you have for pain, my legs are really hurting". I give him more ibuprofen. He goes back to my office area, spends more time making calls to God knows who and playing online, this time he turns up the music on his laptop and this is more than I can deal with. His musical tastes are not only weird, but outright obnoxious and it is evident he's doing this to drown out his conversations he's having on my phone, in my home.

I nicely request that he turn down his music, he comments I don't like music. I say nothing, he's trying to start an argument and I want him to fill out the papers. He wants to check our mailbox outside, he's looking to see if his stolen laptop has arrived from Seattle. He's made light of the fact that he informed the Seattle police to ship it here and it is not arriving fast enough. I tell him, "If it arrives, it will come via UPS". He still wants to check the mailbox. I go get the mail, quickly- because I can sense he's wanting to look around for better drugs- when he uses the bathroom, he's spending ungodly amounts of time in it. I'm really starting to get weird about the situation.

In the mail is his application for Medicaid/Food stamps and other assistance that I arranged to be mailed here. I hand him those papers to fill out, which he ignores, just like the releases for his medical records.

Obviously, the game is on. I don't play games well and if I have to, I'm making up the rules and going to win. I start pressuring him to get the paperwork done, that I want it done before dinner is ready (noon). He proceeds to make more calls, I'm listening with one ear as I'm cooking a meal.

He's calling someone telling them, "I went to a hoedown last night", then states, "I even square-danced". Geez, to my recollection, you were in our other house last night, without any transportation, no TV, no phone and left to your own devices. This dude is seriously deluded. Dinner is ready, the men are in to eat and he takes his precious time in joining us at the table to eat the meal. I'm fuming.

He finally completes the releases, but not the application for the state to obtain aid. I tell him, "I'm taking you back to the other house for the afternoon, I have things to do here". He's finally eaten and gotten one thing accomplished that needs to be done, in order for him to things rolling. I'm at the point, this ball isn't rolling anywhere.

I leave him at the other house, coming back and immediately calling his cousin to catch her up with the latest behaviors I'm seeing out of him and the fact he's asked me twice for pain medications. Yepper- all the suspicions have been confirmed, if anything- he's detoxing in a semi-controlled environment, but I'm starting to get worried about his level of desperation. We both agree, this isn't going to work and agree to keep in close touch.

I'm to the point, I'm so embarrassed over this deal, I don't want to admit to anyone that I've made a huge blunder and the very idea of even taking him into my community, meeting my friends is simply OUT OF THE QUESTION.

That afternoon, some friends arrive for a short visit that live out of state, here to see family and deal with their own issues at hand (all of us are coping with aging parents and I'm throwing a virtual baboon into our own mix of normal stresses on this farm?). We visit (of course, I visit with the wife, her husband goes off with my husband to fix something on the farm). We analyze, we over-analyze, I'm trying to maintain a sense of rationality, yet reacting to Dan and his behavior in a most adverse manner that I simply cannot hide my distress. I'm ashamed of what I've brought here, into my environment, my home and feel I'm putting my family at risk.

I'm beating the hell out of myself when I should be beating the hell out of Dan, figuratively and literally speaking.

people go away mad or sad after close contact with narcissists.

I'm reacting, there is no doubt- I'm angry, disgusted and bewildered with this dude and his childish behaviors and things are about to get worse.

I have to accept I've set the stage, simply because I allowed this situation to occur, enabling it to some degree, yet not playing into the whims of someone that obviously has some real mental health issues, aside from being physically sick and let things play out. I am aware that I'm dealing with a person who is not going to respond in a normal fashion, the very idea of trying to control in any sense is not going to work and I'm really not into controlling people anyway. Criminy, controlling my own reactions is taxing enough.

Our company leaves, I piddle around for a while, emailing a few people admitting of what a horrible mistake I've made and also talking to my husband about how things are going "south", quickly. Tomorrow morning, we had planned to go to a community breakfast, when we pick up the men who work here and will be nice, take Dan along with us (I'm gagging over this thought, too). We already informed him of this activity, so there's no way I can get out of it now. Dammity. I also haven't had the realization dawn on me that I have a full-blown Narcissist on my hands.

My husband and I had found a mother and older kittens, starving to death, not far up the road from our home- our thinking is, "take the cat & kittens to our barn over there, let him take care of them (food and water, of course- WE provide the food) and give him a simple task to accomplish every day). I purchase a bag of cat food for the cats, tell him in very simple terms, "Make sure every morning that they have fresh water and food in the bowl."

Every single morning and evening, both husband and I are realizing that Dan is incapable of this simple task. Add in the fact he virtually misses the mark in accomplishing a very simple task, such as this:

(this photograph was re-created to provide example of what we found)
Note the water bowl on the left, yes- that was for fresh water. The other "object" is a crepe pan, turned upside down, the center, filled with water. Which is EXACTLY what I found the second day the cats had been relocated to the barn.

The water bowl on the left was empty, the crepe pan had water in it- and there was 7 cats to water. Now, what's wrong with this concept?????

Later that evening, I go back over to the house, Dan has ALL the windows wide open, the screen door propped open, with a shovel, AGAIN..... and we had heavy rains. I walk in and he's got the applications for Medicaid and supplemental income on the table and he says:

"I want to pay rent, I don't feel like much of a man if I can't pay rent". (I'm thinking, "man? criminy, this is like dealing with a out of control 5 year old")

"We are not charging you rent, that wasn't part of this deal"

"I want a year's lease on this house, I don't feel secure without a lease"

"I don't think so, we are not giving you a lease, it's not an option"

Now, he wants to argue. He continues, "Well, how can I feel secure and that I won't be kicked out?"

I look at him right in the eye and state, "This is simple, Dan- you were brought up here with one goal and one purpose and it comes down to something very simple, Do you want to live or die?"

He is speechless.

I continue, "You are concerning yourself with things that are not that important, yet you are showing us that you are not even interested in maintaining your diabetes, so with that fact being blatantly obvious, it is apparent you won't be compliant when you are put on treatment for your HepC"

(He's squirming now). "You need to get past that, just because I didn't take my insulin and blood sugar and you are harping on it"

"That behavior shows me you aren't serious about your health AND if you think that the doctors at the Best Clinic on the Planet are not going to figure this out immediately, you are mistaken and I'm getting sick of arguing with you"

"I've argued with the best, this is why I never got married"

"Enough, Dan- I'm not your marital partner, I'm not your mother and your argument is getting tedious"

He changes the subject.

"There is something wrong with the floor in here, it's covered in water" (Remember, he's had the doors and windows WIDE open in humid, hot conditions and this house is a berm home, on a cement slab for a floor).

"It's condensation, I have told you previously to keep the doors and windows closed and turn on the air conditioning"

"I was going to ask you if I should turn on the air conditioning and I slipped and fell on my back!"

I turn on the A/C and he's whining about "don't make it too cold, I can't stand the cold". It's in the low 90s outside and he's worried about freezing to death........ and I'm thinking: "lawsuit/personal injury".

The next day, the weird definitely went "pro".

Day One

Unrestful night, things aren't normal in the environment, but it is a new day.

Drive 3/4 of a mile to other house, pick up Dan, bring him here so he can use internet connection (had he not had a laptop of his own, he would have been SOL) and phone.

I get phone work done, make contact with the Best Medical Facility on the Planet and arrange to have medical releases for Dan's records to be faxed from his previous care providers. I start in on the noon meal while Dan is sitting in my office (which is really the dining room) and calling Social Security, updating his "new" address, doing who knows what online and calling God knows who. Of course, his cell phone network doesn't work out here in the cornfields of good old Iowa.

He comes in the kitchen and asks, "What do you take for pain? My legs are hurting."

I was waiting for that classic question and it sure didn't take long at all. The icing is now being put on the proverbial cake so, I hand him OTC ibuprofen. I tell him, "Take 3". That satisfies him. He goes back to whatever he was doing, I continue to fix a meal.

Noon arrives, the men come in to eat, we get the noon meal done and I decide to take him to town with me, to the grocery store, get him a few more groceries and I needed to get chicken feed and other stuff. I turn him loose in the grocery store, telling him, "get what you need for several days" because I'm trying to impress upon him, we don't make 56 mile round trips to town every other day.

On the way out of the grocery store, I run into an old friend whom I've not seen for at least 2 years- in fact, not since I was on treatment. She's in a motorized wheelchair, smiling and genuinely glad to see me, as I am to see her. I take the time to visit (as I normally do with people I know in my community) and make it a point to REALLY take some time, because it is obvious that Dan is beginning to lose patience. He's sitting on the bench at the front of the store, with his head on the cart, behaving like a child that just figured out that the world doesn't revolve around him. I refuse to rush my old friend, chatting with her, learning that she is gearing up for a kidney transplant and also made it to the Best Clinic on the Planet, so we had much to chat about!

Dan is pouting. He's out of his element, his lack of social skills are rearing up and he's not handling my attention not being focused on him. I have, at this point, realized that this is going to only get worse, because no doubt, he's going to eventually start acting out.

During the ride home, he mentions, "When I looked at your pictures on your site, I thought you spent a lot of time downloading photos from the internet, I didn't realize that they were taken by you". I found that statement really strange and it stood out when something occurred later that evening.

We get back home, I drop him off with his food, tell him I'll be back later on that evening. Husband and I return later, before dark and he's got all the windows (even the ones lacking screens) wide open, the screen door is propped open with a shovel. The vacuum cleaner is sitting outside on the patio and I said, "You need to close this house up before you have every single insect on the farm in here".

He claims it smells "musty". I reply, "Turn on the air". I shut the windows and doors. Husband and I visit for a little bit, making small talk, he shows us a "picture" of his grandson, who doesn't resemble his ethnic heritage in the least. Dan is of Hispanic/Mexican descent, both sides and this "boy" he's showing us a photo of isn't even close.  He only has ONE photo of ONE grandchild, he has been claiming he has 6 grandchildren, 4 children and he doesn't have any other photos of these people. My radar is working overtime.

Wake up, you fool!

Dan's arrival time was 12n. I'm running a bit late (okay, I was literally dragging my feet, my instincts have kicked in and I'm not feeling so good about this) and during the days before his arrival, I'm letting a few people know what we were doing and of course, I'm getting the "Wow, that is so kind of you" and other nice admiration's. It wasn't exactly what I expected, nor wanted- I was fairly focused on the fact we were going to try and help another get the same deserved treatment and care that I had received, the intent was honorable, but altruism ALWAYS has a motive and that is a very simple one- the motive is based in how it makes the altruist "feel" about their own self-esteem.  I wasn't thinking about that at the time, yet I was getting some nice accolades, except one person sent me a fair warning- and that still sticks in my mind.

Up to this point, Dan has told me:

1. He doesn't drink coffee
2. He doesn't watch TV, claiming it's mindless crap.
3. He's got degrees in Economics and Business.
4. He worries about "spreading the disease".
5. He's worried about what he will do if "he gets lonely".
6. He has trouble eating (a clue I wasn't paying attention to)
7. He has terrible diarrhea (like I needed to know, but wait- this was an obvious clue!)

Yeah, the flags are flying and I'm on my way to pick him up at the airport, thinking, "I've made a huge, huge mistake".

I can't find a parking space in the short term lot to save my life- I'm 20 minutes late, calling Dan's cell, he's not answering and I'm figuring the plane is late. I get in the airport, the flight HAS arrived, I have him paged, no show. He's not on the scheduled flight. I'm thinking, "Leave now, walk away from this", still- I wait in line at the check-in counter at the appropriate airline and the woman checks the computer after I give her his name, she is unable to verify if he's on the next flight, but tells me the next flight comes in such and such gate in 50 more minutes.

Plane lands, my cell rings and he's walking out of the boarding area- I'm checking this out thinking, "Oh shit, Albuquerque Junkie". I wanted to run screaming from that airport, demand that TSA put him right back on the next plane out of there, to anywhere!

We meet again, oh happy, happy- he's just so happy he's here and geez, why didn't you make your scheduled flight? I wait outside the mens room, with his laptop, for at least 15 minutes, calling my friend back home, telling her, "This isn't good, I wasn't thinking, I made a horrible mistake." He's still in the bathroom, I'm on the phone and he's still in the bathroom, for 20 minutes.

He comes out, I ask him if he's eaten. "No, I only had 2 cups of coffee". Flag starts flying again..... hmmm, diabetic, no food, only coffee, stated to me several times that he doesn't drink coffee. Okay. It's only 1pm........

"Did you take your insulin?"

"No, not yet".

Oh dear GAWD! So, the radar is in high gear, I get him to the car, he injects his insulin, just like a junkie pro (something about how they hold that syringe- it's subtle, but oh man, I'm really starting to think,  "how I can ditch this dude?"). I'm looking at his arms, the tracks are there and geez, it's completely obvious that Dan has been at "this" for a long, long time. I don't think I've seen tracks that bad in over 30 years and I know what I see.

He's dressed all in black and we aren't talking "goth", he just looks like a dressed up junkie, with a yarmulke on his head. We bug out of the airport and I'm looking for a decent place to feed him, I find a Ruby Tuesday, pull in to park and he says, "I don't like to wear my yarmulke in a restaurant, people look and think I'm not eating kosher". This statement just blows me away. I respond with an abrupt, "I think that's your problem, I seriously doubt anyone even notices."

Yeppers, I have a real live problem on my hands and I'm already thinking, this isn't going to work.

I've already contacted the best medical facility in the world, gone in the back door- getting to the correct department and started the process to get him seen. I've emailed my own doctor, to obtain primary care and got a roadblock on that deal- serious shortage, not taking any new patients. I can deal with that, but I'm getting things lined up with the correct people at the clinic where he really needs to be seen and I'm having serious thoughts about this, because his logic is so freakin' skewed.

We leave the restaurant, I'm looking at his horrendously out of style dress shoes, thinking "these are NOT going to work in a rural environment", so I take him to Dillards- walk right to the shoe department (womens, oops!) and he immediately starts chatting up the saleswomen. I'm gagging, seriously gagging, looking for a shovel to choke on.

I take him downstairs to the mens shoe department, he picks out a pair that I would expect a 70 year old man to choose, not a man of 53- but that's fine, they're on sale and affordable. Run that card, it's only money! We go back upstairs to leave and he gravitates towards the high end cosmetics counter, talking to the nice looking young, unassuming woman- and I'm doing the "jaw-drop". I'm floored, embarrassed and I want to sneak out of that store and vanish. I'm not kidding. I mean, this dude is NOT that attractive- not anymore. He just looks like an old, burnt out junkie and he's trying to pick up chicks half his age.

I drag him away from the counter, telling him, "We really need to leave", get him in the car and head out for home.

Every 15 minutes or so, he's looking at himself in the visor mirror- after the 10th time, I'm finally asking, "Why do you keep looking in the mirror at yourself? He says, "I'm looking at my eyes".

"What's wrong with your eyes?" No answer.

I'm asking questions about his children, making conversation, killing time and driving like a bat out of hell to get home- he's evasive, gives me vague answers, being blatantly secretive. Especially when I hone in on the situation with his youngest son, who he claims is 25, staying with his mother, whom he doesn't care for and he's already asked if his son could come up here, too. (BIG FLAG)

He finally admits, the 25 year old son is sitting in jail, on drug charges. And he wants this kid to join him here with us? I don't think so!

We finally pull in, late- it's almost dark and he meets my husband, he's being very low-key and cooperative. We take him to the other house, where fresh, clean linens await- all the comforts that are necessary and leave for the night. I have some time alone to talk to my husband and tell him about all the odd behavior and I don't sleep very well. My radar is still in high gear.

Making Connection

So, I've been leading up to the story of my latest blunder and how this lesson in Altruism slapped me upside my thick head.

As I stated previously, my profile on a networking site is getting a LOT of hits, messages and guestbook signatures. Okay, this is cool, so on a whim, I typed in Dan's name (remember: Drug Addled Narcissist), only at this point, I had NO clue at all how drug addled he really was, yet maybe I just wasn't paying attention? Not to mention he's a textbook narcissist.... oh, that stuff is coming, but there's more to this and it will get better......

I find a duplicate profile for Dan, same high school and now there's a photo, a "story" and messages on his public bulletin board. Hmmm..... and within those messages, he's conversing with someone who is obviously related to him and mentions he's received a new liver.

I can hardly stand myself at this point. I'm honing in on this, "ah, another HVC case- and it's someone I know (yeah, right)!

I email him through the site, no response for a day or so, so I email the person he conversed with- of course, stupid, stupid me never looked at the dates of those entries, which were last year. I send a message to what turns out to be his first cousin, who is also from Albuquerque, same age, yadda yadda..... basically tell her that I'd like to get into contact with him and questioned her about his "new liver", she emails back immediately, only stating that he's been quite ill and will try and get a number for him. Cool.........

A few emails later, she sends me his number. I call it, I get a voice mail, I leave a short message and my phone rings. It's him and I'm my usual, "hi, how are ya, yeah, I'm doing great, married, happy and what's up with this new liver deal?"

In a course of a 5 minute explanation from him about "liver cancer", I tell him about my experience with HepC and the truth comes out. Geez, just how did I know this? So, he proceeds to tell me about his transplant that occurred the same year I was diagnosed and treated (interestingly enough, he's getting a new liver and I'm being diagnosed within a 2 week time frame) and I'm asking him, why haven't you attempted treatment? The excuses are rolling out, from "my family doesn't know I have the disease" to "I know I have to treat, my doctor that did my transplant wanted me to" and all I'm hearing is "I can't do it".

So, I ascertain he's had a transplant, that took place in NYC, he's got 4 grown children, 3 different mothers, never married, recurrent HCV, diabetes, insulin-dependent and he's scared to death of treatment. I'm also learning that he has been living in NYC (where's he's a member of an Orthodox Jewish Community), went to Seattle (where he says he has a daughter and 2 grandchildren) and while he was there, his vehicle, laptop and everything he had with him when he left NYC was stolen from him, so he goes back to Albuquerque, with his youngest son-

Of course, some of us do in fact, return to "home" when things aren't going well in our lives. Even if the environment left us with negative memories, for some reason, some STILL return home. On a side note, I wouldn't return there in a box.

I noted during his calls, which were becoming quite frequent, that he's got a cough, he's complaining of other maladies (gastro-intestinal problems) and I'm just thinking, "it's the HCV and the havoc that is creating". I'm also wondering why a cradle Catholic has converted to Judaism and well, I will say this- after finally seeing him after 34 years, things did start falling into place, but I will add to that later. He's asking me about his cough and chest congestion, I'm suggesting getting some antibiotics, he's asking me about other maladies and I'm telling him, "you need to treat for the HCV".

Then, I start going into my "Pay it Forward" mindset, thinking I can help this human, who is running out of time to treat (transplant patients have a window of 1-5 years to treat for the recurrent HCV) and I'm really encouraging this dude to seek treatment.

Husband and I discuss what I've "found" and the fact that he's sick, needs help and appears to have no help in obtaining treatment, much less the stability/place/support to go through with this. Husband and I agree that we have the means, ie; another home that could be used for him to reside in, I could try and get him to the best clinic on the planet and maybe, just maybe- we could help him. NOT change him, that was never a thought, but help him out for a year, yes. I had learned he was on SSI (disability and medicaid), so I wasn't too concerned about financing this deal- putting a person in our other home isn't going to be that expensive and if he wanted a phone/internet connection, he could pay for it.

The idea is discussed with Dan, who thinks for about 2 seconds and says, "I'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity".

I agree to purchase a plane ticket to get him to an airport 4.5 hours away, he picks the day, the flight and time of departure. So, during the 4 days or so of getting ready for his arrival, I'm still communicating with his cousin, who sends me a warning a day too late:

"My mom (Dan's Aunt) thinks he's still into drugs, because he's going into the house across from hers and they are known drug dealers".

Me, fighting my natural cynicism/skepticism, is convincing myself that "well, maybe he's just visiting there and after all, it is the old neighborhood". Yep, my 48 week treatment with a toxic cocktail did indeed impair my most astute instincts. I truly need to seek help.

Meanwhile, the emails and phone calls are going back and forth- I'm asking more questions, getting vague answers and literally laid out the "deal" as far as what we would offer and what we expected in return:

 I get contact numbers for his immediate family, namely his eldest son, whom he states is still in NYC.

During the time frame he's still in Albuquerque, he's emailing me his daughter's number, whom I call and she never returns the call (gee, subtle hint here?), his brother's number, whom I decide I really don't need to call, yet and he's still never given me contact information for his son in NYC, whom he claims has his act together the best, aside from the daughter in Albuquerque, who is graduating from nursing school.

The day before he's scheduled to fly out, he's calling me from Albuquerque, telling me exactly where he's standing, demographically speaking (I'm really starting to think this is getting weird) and that night, he calls and says the "friend" he went to visit fell and broke her hip. And he's still not gotten any antibiotics for his obvious cough and congestion..........

And I'm getting apprehensive, by the minute. I'm still communicating, via phone and email with his cousin and starting to get really worried I've made a huge mistake, I'm telling her what he's telling me and not telling me, his evasiveness, the vague answers, his current "antics" and she's getting really worried that this is a mistake, but the ticket is purchased and I'm dragging my feet getting out the door to drive to get him at the airport.

Next up:

Dan, Dan, the Junkie Man

Advocacy, HepC and Social Networking

Or, how these things combined can be a recipe for disaster.

My profile on a social networking site had been getting a serious amount of “hits”, requests and messages this year. Most I was just observing, some were quite genuine and I kept my communications at arm’s length. I have a fairly unique last (maiden) name, so who knows, maybe that was the reason that I was getting more attention than I have in years past, because I’ve been a member of this particular site since 2000.

I am also actively engaged in advocacy and support on a forum that is specific to Hepatitis C, supporting others with information, moral support and general socialization. The forum in particular is fairly stringent in not allowing “junk science” to be advocated and for the most part, it is fairly sedate, being run by people like myself, who have treated successfully and are empathic towards the newly diagnosed or their beginning journey of treating for the disease. Knowledge and experience is a powerful and valuable in supporting those that are facing the disease, treatment or just wanting some information. The people that run the site have all managed to beat the disease, treating successfully and are very knowledgeable, keeping up with the latest news, trials and other information that is important to those that need to know what is in store for them. They're really a great bunch of people and truly have the fortitude to continue to post over and over again, support that cannot be measured.

I’m very open with my experiences, look back on much of my treatment phase as what I tend to describe as a bad dream- it is a brutal treatment, but I had the best of care, from the best medical facility in the world and many, many doors opened for me- due to my experience. I whined, complained and trooped through treatment the best I could, took an experimental protease inhibitor that was on trial, fought to be the experimental test subject (along with 250 others in the U.S.) in the second trial on human subjects. I didn’t find this drug trial by accident, either- all my time on the internet wasn’t spent looking for people from my past, much of it was spent researching the disease, treatment and basically scaring myself to death.

I managed to get my consult at the best medical facility in the world, within 11 days of being diagnosed, had all the preliminary testing done prior to getting my treatment prescriptions signed, called a friend who is a psychiatrist, because all the research I was doing is telling me that I’m going to need my mood monitored and for the love of God, I’m an emotional wreck anyway. I was due to start treating for the disease in June of 2006, but found a trial that was open for enrollment, talked to my nurse about the study and then proceeded to pester the living daylights out of a nurse who would play a vital role in getting me through treatment and attaining SVR (sustained viral response).

Okay, I know I’m really dragging this story out, but there is a method to this madness- and that is summarily defined as: If I can do it, anyone can. This is simply not true. Some people never can make it successfully through this treatment, some have attempted/succeeded in committing suicide, some get so sick from the sides they have to discontinue and some simply just do not respond to treatment. I just managed to take my support and advocacy too far, bringing it right to my home, my life and fortunately- figured it out quickly enough so it never affected my family or community.

Only 50% of people with HCV will treat successfully- the most common genotype is the most difficult to treat, the other two genotypes have an 80% success rate and have to do ½ the length of time treating. Those of us that have Geno1a, get to do the full 48 weeks of one of the top 3 most brutal treatments for disease.

So, the next entry, I’ll introduce you to the Drug Addled Narcissist and how he came into our lives.

Preface

For the sake of privacy, I won’t use real names-

"Dan" is the person that I had one of the most profound, eye-opening experiences with and the reason I’m choosing the name “Dan” is because “Drug-Addled Narcissist” seems most fitting. So, in the following entries, you, the reader, will eventually understand not only why I've chosen this name, not to mention how I came to my lesson in Altruism and meeting face to face with someone with a serious personality disorder. I'm not a psychiatrist, but I do recognize when someone is seriously abnormal.

When one finds out they are seriously sick, with a disease- just about everyone goes back to their past. Don’t ask me why this behavior seems to be common, but networking sites do provide a base in which to start that weird behavior of finding people from your past. Only because most of us (or we hope) have moved on from our childhoods, become adults, had our own families, successes and failures- when faced with a serious illness- we go back to where it all started and connecting with some people from our past seems to be important to us.

Cutting your modem connection the moment you are diagnosed with a serious illness might be a wise idea.

For some stupid reason, specific people stand out to you- not because you were “tight” or had very close relationships. Even their oddities and reasons you rationalize as to why you never kept in touch might be tapping you, one will still seek them out, for whatever esoteric or mundane reason- many of us do in fact, seek people out from our childhood.

I spent an incredible amount of time online, searching for specific individuals I had not had ANY contact with when I was diagnosed back in March of 2006- even spending small amounts of money, subscribing to different sites, searching for archived obituaries, even managing to connect with relatives that I had not spoken to since I was a small child. There is something about “connecting” or bridging that past that maybe only a shrink could define, yet I believe it is part of the healing process- coming to terms with what got you to where you are at now.

Dan and I had a “friendly”, "hang out with on occasion" relationship during my teenage years- we are both the same age, didn’t run in the same circles, yet we had known each other and occasionally hung out together on and off from about the age of 14-19 years of age. The last time I saw him was before I left home, which is Albuquerque, NM. Drug capital of the U.S., meanest streets on the planet (in my opinion and I have lived in larger cities in my adulthood). It is by far the most politically corrupt state next to Illinois- most police departments look angelic compared to the APD, not to mention the County Mounties. Even the State Police are something left to be desired. In other words, New Mexico is not the Land of Enchantment, it’s the Land of Entrapment- and I left in 1976, at the age of 20, leaving what I knew would eventually be my demise. Obviously, I’m still here to write about it, so my demise has not been met, yet.

I’ll never forget that moment in time, of seeing Dan and walking away from him- he was calling out to me, “Come back, come back”- which to encapsulate the scenario, I just got sick of his “neediness” and realized at that point that he was running in circles. I remember he was staying at the dormitory at UNM, claiming he was starting law school. His room was bare- no real possessions adorning the room, not even linens on the bed, curtains on the windows. I saw him one time, briefly after that- he had gotten an apartment, which I accepted an invitation to visit him there and that environment was also void of any personal adornments. Which even in my drug induced haze, I still had the clarity to think, “Something is wrong here”.

I never got high with Dan- for some odd reason- never even smoked a joint- most of our hanging out consisted of stupid, inane conversations which amounted to me finally tiring of his strange logic and perceptions of life in general. For the better part, Dan is a fairly intelligent person- not all the conversations were that stupid- we did share some common threads, a history so to speak- and if anything, when I was a "runaway" juvenile, Dan did help me out when I had nowhere to go, sneaking me into the his family’s garage that was made into a apartment, vacant- but the basics were there and he’d also sneak me food from his family’s dinner table. So, yes- in essence, he helped me when I was in need of shelter and food.

So, there was a very basic curiosity as to what happened to Dan over the years and even though I found his name on a networking site, there was nothing in the profile, no response to a message I sent to him and I didn’t pursue it any longer. Until recently……..

A Valuable Lesson in Altruism

Altruism
1. Unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others.
2. Behavior by a animal that is not beneficial to or may be harmful to itself but that it benefits others of its species.

Recently, I had the intense, distasteful and financial experience of coming face to face with the very concept of Altruism. Pure intent was in the forefront, I truly wanted to help another that was obviously in poor health, was facing a health issue that does indeed have a treatment available. I had faced this same disease 2 years ago and managed to beat out a virus that is affecting approximately 5 million Americans, most of whom do not even realize they are infected.

What I didn't bargain for was the fact that I had a very distressing experience with a true Narcissist . For as astute as I normally think I am, I sure bought into this situation, hook, line and managed to cut off the sinker before it got worse.

What most do not understand or examine when their "altruistic" nature rears it's ugly head is the fact that when we offer to help someone that is in dire need of something, we refuse to look at our own interests of the matter at hand, ie: how will it make me feel to help this person? Yes, the very basis of any altruistic motive is very selfish in the roots of the behavior. It is very irrational, does not truly serve the motive, but only sets the stage for the altruist's need for praise and admiration.

All of us, as humans, that have one ounce of compassion for another, will experience some type of altruism at some point in their lives and the true, rational compassionate personality will know immediately when they must detach, because when the motive starts backfiring, or to put it in this perspective: The person you are trying to pull out of the water into the boat and they keep pulling you in the water to drown with them. it's time to get a serious clue.

Another lesson involved in all of this was: Leave the past where it belongs. In the past.
I had left a very troubled, challenged youth behind over 34 years ago, have continued to move forward, some setbacks here and there, but never, ever returned to "where it all began" for any real length of time. Mainly because every time I did return physically to that place, I was affected in such an adverse manner, staying away from it all was a priority in my rational self-interest.

Altruism bit me really good, simply because instead of going back to that place of "where it all began", I bring the past right to my present. Maybe I just needed a hard lesson about pulling people into my tiny little boat of a normal, stable life. I knew better, I just didn't listen to my rational conscience. Nope, not me- the crusader and advocate for testing, treatment and supporting others with a disease that is indeed treatable, I almost sacrificed our own livelihood, finances and well-being all in the name of Altruism.

I have to admit, I sought this out, literally went "looking for it" and even though I saw, read and heard all the warning signs, I didn't PAY ATTENTION. Some warnings came too late and I still wanted to think positive- and the lesson in that is:

Never, ever trust your own judgment when doubt is raised, in any form.

My personality is quite cynical in nature, I'm always being told, "You're being negative" and criticized for my less than sunny, bright attitude when it comes to many things. I do not consider myself to be negative- I'm a realist, for crying out loud. Unfortunately, my realistic sense of the world around me miserably failed, due to a moment of altruism.

I must have some strange Karma- I do manage to see through others motives or their facade quite easily- for the better part, I remain unaffected, but when I see something I do not like, I react. Coming unglued is a better definition, because when I'm staring straight at something that I know is threatening everything in my life, the very thing I have left behind, something that has the potential to destroy my world, my well-being or even my family and friends- I literally react in a most adverse manner.

And the fact that I was fooled, even for a very short time (5 LONG days), just pisses me off.

My next post will tell the story and at this point, my lessons were learned- yet, the fat lady isn't singing yet, because as soon as that "event" was removed from my world, another situation came my way and the entire thing has virtually "flipped". But, I'm a bit more wiser for it and yes- sometimes we just have to be human, recognize when there is a true injustice happening to another and lend some support.

So, stay tuned...... my next post will tell the gory details of Altruism, Narcissistic personality disorder and my rattling experience in dealing with an impossible, sick human being.