I so enjoy being here in Colfax. I wish I could share all these good feelings with Mom. I know she would be so happy. And often how I wish she was here with me.
I miss her so.
I've had very vivid dreams about her. And once in a while I feel her gently smoothing my hair and softly saying everything will be alright. Sometimes I can smell her. At those times I expect the phone to ring from the nursing home saying she's gone.
And then I did get a phone call from the nursing home saying her Medicaid had been discontinued because I had failed to fill out a form for the state. I had called the state guy in Kelso and explained I had moved and that everything was still the same and asked if I needed to do anything. Never heard back so I just figured everything was okay. Not. It's also incredible to me that the nursing home waited this long - her assistance ran out the end of June - to tell me.
But I have been so buried in my own financial worries that maybe I just forgot. I've been doing that a lot lately.
And it's those times that I find myself saying, "God, I wish she would just die!"
Isn't that awful?
I feel awful about thinking that and now actually writing it.
I don't wish my Mom harm at all, but I am just plain tired. I'm tired of dealing with the nursing home and the state and her Medicare and her bank account and her life insurance and the house. I am just plain tired. And I wish it would all go away.
I also had a dream about my Dad. It was vivid as well. He had white hair and he was sitting at a kitchen table in his blue bathrobe. He was smiling and I remember he said something, but I can't remember what.
In the meantime, I haven't heard from my lovely sister. Yep, she really cares about me.
Haven't heard from my lovely cousins, who actually had the nerve to say to me, "Martha didn't get anything (from the house)." Did they ask me why? Did they ask me if Martha had helped in any way? Nope. Because God knows what Martha has told them. I know she calls Mary. So she's choosing them over me. Isn't that nice?
And among all this whining, God is so good to me. He blesses me every minute of every day. How I LOVE being His child.
I am so thankful. This place is filled with all kinds of memories. As I look forward to the Palouse Empire Fair, I am filled with all kinds of memories. And the threshing bee is coming up next weekend. That will be another memory-filled experience. It touches my heart so to see that happen on Ousley land.
Just like it was exciting to me to see a big ol' combine on our land with that wheat pouring into the hopper. Wow was that something to see. Even though it wasn't our combine it was still so cool. And with that 40-foot header on it, that was just amazing.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Today is Mother's Day. And I'm as far away from Mom as I have been in a long time. In fact, I can't remember the last time I wasn't with Mom on Mother's Day.
Although I have a heavy heart, I know the woman in the nursing home wouldn't know me even if I was there. Just to satisfy my own conscious, I mailed a card from me and a card from Gigi and Lizzie. I know Mom wouldn't understand, but at least that silly sister of mine will get it.
We are in a new house and we are enjoying it very much. Although I've been here for a while, I'm still unpacking. It has lots of windows and just enough room to raise some flowers and tomatoes. I just planted nastursiums and lavender today. My strawberries are blooming and making berries and my geraniums are trying to grow back from when the deer ate them. I've put tobasco sauce out every night and so far it's kept the deer away.
I've thought about past Mother's Days when Mom would so enjoy a trip up to Mount St. Helens and we'd enjoy some really good food and a beautiful drive. We'd usually joke about not seeing any elk, although everyone says there's lots up there. I think they hid every time we'd make the trip.
I have lots of fond memories and photos of Mom looking at the mountain and with the mountain in the background. Thank God for those memories.
I also remember a lot of fighting with Martha about who would drive and who would pay for Mom's meal. Why did she want to make every holiday so damned miserable?
As I unpack things trying to make this house a home, I think about what Mom would do and how Mom would arrange things. She will be with me forever.
I love my home and I love Colfax. I thank God He directed me here. I thank God for my job which I love more every day.
I can't thank God enough for all He's done for me and continues to do every day.
I am going to walk in the Relay for Life in July and I have a college reunion in July at Fort Wright in Spokane. I even volunteered to make dinner one night. I am so looking forward to seeing friends from all over the U.S. I am trying to get involved in the Alzheimer's Walk here this fall, but I may just walk and try not to get really involved.
I still haven't been strong enough to go to Mass. I just don't want to see the inside of that church and I know that must seem silly, but that's just the way I feel.
I think I'm still losing weight. My clothes are getting so big that I'm having to give away a lot of them. I still have a long way to go. I have this chicken neck thing going on that I hate but maybe that will go away one day.
Thank you Lord for every thing. Thank You for my Mom, the one I love and remember. Thank You for all those memories.
Although I have a heavy heart, I know the woman in the nursing home wouldn't know me even if I was there. Just to satisfy my own conscious, I mailed a card from me and a card from Gigi and Lizzie. I know Mom wouldn't understand, but at least that silly sister of mine will get it.
We are in a new house and we are enjoying it very much. Although I've been here for a while, I'm still unpacking. It has lots of windows and just enough room to raise some flowers and tomatoes. I just planted nastursiums and lavender today. My strawberries are blooming and making berries and my geraniums are trying to grow back from when the deer ate them. I've put tobasco sauce out every night and so far it's kept the deer away.
I've thought about past Mother's Days when Mom would so enjoy a trip up to Mount St. Helens and we'd enjoy some really good food and a beautiful drive. We'd usually joke about not seeing any elk, although everyone says there's lots up there. I think they hid every time we'd make the trip.
I have lots of fond memories and photos of Mom looking at the mountain and with the mountain in the background. Thank God for those memories.
I also remember a lot of fighting with Martha about who would drive and who would pay for Mom's meal. Why did she want to make every holiday so damned miserable?
As I unpack things trying to make this house a home, I think about what Mom would do and how Mom would arrange things. She will be with me forever.
I love my home and I love Colfax. I thank God He directed me here. I thank God for my job which I love more every day.
I can't thank God enough for all He's done for me and continues to do every day.
I am going to walk in the Relay for Life in July and I have a college reunion in July at Fort Wright in Spokane. I even volunteered to make dinner one night. I am so looking forward to seeing friends from all over the U.S. I am trying to get involved in the Alzheimer's Walk here this fall, but I may just walk and try not to get really involved.
I still haven't been strong enough to go to Mass. I just don't want to see the inside of that church and I know that must seem silly, but that's just the way I feel.
I think I'm still losing weight. My clothes are getting so big that I'm having to give away a lot of them. I still have a long way to go. I have this chicken neck thing going on that I hate but maybe that will go away one day.
Thank you Lord for every thing. Thank You for my Mom, the one I love and remember. Thank You for all those memories.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Missing Mom today
For some reason, I'm missing Mom particularly today. Don't know why, but I keep thinking about her and just plain miss her. Maybe it's the baby.
I finally got to meet our little "Peanut" yesterday. He is the most precious little boy. Tonijo let me hold him in his little WSU Cougar blanket for quite a while, so I talked to him and looked him over very carefully. He's got the sweetest hands that made little fists and clutched at the soft blanket. He made little sounds as he slept in my arms and I kept track of every breath.
Peanut had a quite a time coming into the world. His parents, Tonijo and David, told me the whole story Saturday. Evidently, just as Peanut, whose real name is Bryson Lawrence Batterton, was being born early Friday morning, Jan. 18, Tonijo suddenly got a high fever which stressed the baby. He couldn't breathe and as he continued to have difficulty breathing, the doctors said Peanut needed to go to Spokane. So David and Peanut went to Spokane in a plane while poor Momma had to stay in Pullman to battle her fever.
Peanut was in NICU for four or five days. Tonijo insisted on leaving the Pullman hospital on Friday afternoon so she could be with Peanut. He finally got to come home last Thursday. He sees the doctor on Monday. I asked him to please never scare us like that again.
I feel so blessed being here to meet Peanut. I kept thinking about when Tonijo was born and how I have a photo of her in the incubator just hours after she was born. And here she is, some 30 years later, the mother of little Peanut.
Tonijo always has been special to us. She calls Mom Grandma Wilma and me and Martha Aunties. So naturally her child is special as well.
If Mom was herself, she would be so happy about the baby and wanting to hold him lots and lots. A big smile would be on her face and she would probably also be giving Tonijo a very hard time. As I imagine what Mom would be doing around the new baby, I think about how much I miss her.
I miss sharing everything with her, especially major life changes and stories. I can hear voice sometimes, what she would say to me in certain situations. Mom will always be with me.
I called the nursing home the other night to check on Mom. The nurse said she was sleeping a lot and asked me if that was normal. It is. She takes spells where she sleeps a lot and then goes back to a normal schedule. They took her off one of her medications to calm her down and she seems to be getting along well without it. As the nurse was telling me about Mom's long sleeping spells, I secretly prayed that she would not wake up. And that is my continued prayer.
I know Mom would love to see little Peanut. To give him her love and lots of hugs and kisses. I guess his Nana Sally will just have to give all that love and hugs and kisses for both of us.
I finally got to meet our little "Peanut" yesterday. He is the most precious little boy. Tonijo let me hold him in his little WSU Cougar blanket for quite a while, so I talked to him and looked him over very carefully. He's got the sweetest hands that made little fists and clutched at the soft blanket. He made little sounds as he slept in my arms and I kept track of every breath.
Peanut had a quite a time coming into the world. His parents, Tonijo and David, told me the whole story Saturday. Evidently, just as Peanut, whose real name is Bryson Lawrence Batterton, was being born early Friday morning, Jan. 18, Tonijo suddenly got a high fever which stressed the baby. He couldn't breathe and as he continued to have difficulty breathing, the doctors said Peanut needed to go to Spokane. So David and Peanut went to Spokane in a plane while poor Momma had to stay in Pullman to battle her fever.
Peanut was in NICU for four or five days. Tonijo insisted on leaving the Pullman hospital on Friday afternoon so she could be with Peanut. He finally got to come home last Thursday. He sees the doctor on Monday. I asked him to please never scare us like that again.
I feel so blessed being here to meet Peanut. I kept thinking about when Tonijo was born and how I have a photo of her in the incubator just hours after she was born. And here she is, some 30 years later, the mother of little Peanut.
Tonijo always has been special to us. She calls Mom Grandma Wilma and me and Martha Aunties. So naturally her child is special as well.
If Mom was herself, she would be so happy about the baby and wanting to hold him lots and lots. A big smile would be on her face and she would probably also be giving Tonijo a very hard time. As I imagine what Mom would be doing around the new baby, I think about how much I miss her.
I miss sharing everything with her, especially major life changes and stories. I can hear voice sometimes, what she would say to me in certain situations. Mom will always be with me.
I called the nursing home the other night to check on Mom. The nurse said she was sleeping a lot and asked me if that was normal. It is. She takes spells where she sleeps a lot and then goes back to a normal schedule. They took her off one of her medications to calm her down and she seems to be getting along well without it. As the nurse was telling me about Mom's long sleeping spells, I secretly prayed that she would not wake up. And that is my continued prayer.
I know Mom would love to see little Peanut. To give him her love and lots of hugs and kisses. I guess his Nana Sally will just have to give all that love and hugs and kisses for both of us.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
It's been months since I've written here and my life has certainly changed since my last post. So here goes:
I worked very hard on the Southwest Washington Walk to End Alzheimer's. And all the work certainly paid off.
On a beautiful fall day, Sept. 22, we had 111 walkers at the Port of Kalama's Marine Park. We had sponsors, Cowlitz Indian Tribe drummers who also blessed the Walk, and even Hawaiian dancers. Kalama High School students from the band and leadership class provided wonderful music and lots of help. Mom would have been proud.
The only thing I missed was Martha, who texted me the night before the walk to say she wasn't coming. She claimed that she wasn't feeling well, but I don't believe it, because the day after the Walk, she went to Mr. Bill's for breakfast.
It was during the Walk that I was going to tell Martha I was moving. I got a job at the Whitman County Gazette in Colfax where I grew up and packed up everything and moved. I told the nursing home folks I was moving and gave them my new address, but I wanted to tell Martha in a special way, to let her understand that I needed to do this. I started my new job on Oct. 1, just a little more than a week after the Walk.
As I was packing the Monday after the Walk, there was a knock on the door and Martha walked in. A UHaul truck was parked in the driveway so it was obvious what was going on. But she acted so offended that I hadn't told her and claimed she only stopped to see how the Walk went. When will the lies stop?
I had gathered a few things for her and put them in a box. And my friend, Dennise, who was packing me up, happened to be at the house when Martha arrived and heard the whole conversation. Martha asked if she had to sign some papers to take care of Mom and I said no, nothing had changed. But the next day, the nursing home folks called to say Martha had informed them that she was to be the first one to be called if something happened to Mom. I said I would talk to Martha and get it straightened out and that I was still the Power of Attorney and Martha wasn't. So I called Martha who was just getting out of school. This is the day before I was to leave for Colfax. I told her I had talked to the nursing home and that I will remain the first to be informed if something happens to Mom. I reiterated that she was not the Power of Attorney and she had no authority to do anything. She claimed she was never asked to be a Power of Attorney and I replied that wasn't true, that she said at the time she didn't want anything to do with it. That's when she hung up. I tried calling her back, but she wouldn't answer her phone. It made me sad to leave town with that phone call the last conversation we would have. But I can't control her actions, only she can.
As I was packing along with getting ready for the Walk, my little Yorkie boy, Mattie, got really sick. The Thursday before the Walk, I took him to the vet, Dr. Katie. I just had a feeling he was going to leave me. He couldn't walk and wasn't eating or drinking. Dr. Katie took an x-ray and said she had never seen anything like it. Mattie's little spine was so deformed that she said she was surprised he had lived as long as he did. She said she couldn't do anything for him, so they brought him to me wrapped in a soft towel and I held him as he left me. I told him to find my Abby and she would take care of him until I could be with them. My heart still is heavy with his loss as I write this. He was such a sweet little soul. He was only 11 months old.
Three days after the Walk, early on the morning of Sept. 26, another beautiful fall day, Lizzie (my little Yorkie girl), Gigi, Dennise and I took off for Colfax. We had a good trip and arrived safe and sound, although pretty tired, in Colfax early in the afternoon. Friends met us and unloaded the things in the truck into two storage units. Gigi and Lizzie seemed to like our new temporary quarters which was the home of a high school classmate. The day after we got to Colfax, I met a friend in Naches who took Dennise back to Longview. And on Monday, I started my new job at the Gazette.
Wow, I felt so good to be back home.
I felt a little sad about leaving Mom, but I also know that I have done all I can do for Mom. And I know in my heart that she would want me to do this. I didn't feel one bit sad about leaving that house and I don't care really what happens with it. That never really was my home.
The second day of work, I came down with a cold which only got worse as the week wore on. My upper back began hurting, indicating that I probably had walking pneumonia. By the following Monday, I was very sick and missed work all week. By Friday, Oct. 12, I thought I felt better, and was going to try to go to the office. God had other plans.
I took the girls outside so they could do their business about 7 a.m. I sat on the steps enjoying a beautiful fall day, looking at the gold hills of the Palouse. But when I tried to get up, my body wouldn't respond. I just couldn't get up. The friend I was staying with went to Pullman to shop and when she came back, and I was still on the steps, she called 9-1-1. I pleaded with her not to call them because I have no insurance, but the EMTs came. They checked my blood pressure and then took blood and my blood sugar was 800. Normal levels should hover around 100. They immediately took me to the Colfax hospital. After more tests, chest x-rays and and I don't know how many other tests, the doctors decided that I indeed had pneumonia and probably had diabetes. My mind just couldn't wrap itself around all that. Then the doctor informed me that his superiors were too nervous to have me stay in Colfax and they wanted me to go to Spokane. I just kept thinking about the cost and how I was going to pay for it and on and on and on. The Colfax ambulance was not available so I rode in a MedStar helicopter. Great. I had never been in a helicopter before and I certainly didn't want my first ride to be as a patient, but I didn't have a choice. So into the back of this helicopter I went with two wonderful men hovering over me making sure I made the trip to Spokane. I got into the Sacred Heart ICU later that evening and immediately was greeted by an army of nurses and doctors. They pumped fluids into me and began insulin and checking my blood sugar hourly, or almost hourly. At the time, I didn't really even realize I was in Intensive Care and didn't understand until my friend, Susie, told me later. I remained in the hospital for 11 days. I received excellent care and the best part was that I received Communion every day. Susie came to visit me almost every day. Leanna Brake called almost every day and Fort Wright College classmates, Diane Lobe and Lauriel Kramer Fouquette, came to the hospital to see me.
Three days before doctors said I would probably be discharged, the friend I was staying with called to say that I couldn't come back to their home and I had to make other arrangements. I was so hurt and shocked, but I contacted another friend and got a place to land that night. I made arrangements for the girls to stay with a friend in Spokane and Susie brought them from Colfax to Spokane the next day. Susie worked hard to make my new home as welcome as possible. She stocked my cupboards with pots and pans and silverware and food and brought a couple of chairs and an end table and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. By the time she got me home, it was warm and almost inviting, as inviting as an old single-wide trailer in a trailer park can be. But it's a roof and shelters us from the weather and keeps us warm.
My friend, Mary Perry, kept the girls for more than two weeks as I recuperated at home. I was on oxygen for several days after I got home. Susie came every day to check on me and Tonijo checked on me too. I went back to work on Oct. 31, thankful that my dear publisher kept my job for me.
God is so good to me. I know I am blessed to be alive and healing. It will take me a while to get completely well, but I am getting stronger every day. I give myself insulin shots in the morning and evening after checking my blood sugar levels. My blood sugar has settled down to the point that the docs have decreased my insulin by 20 units a day. The goal is to be able to quit the insulin at one point.
Gigi and Lizzie are still adapting to life here in Colfax. And I LOVE it. I love seeing old friends almost every day, renewing those friendships. And my job is going very well. I am feeling more confident in my writing skills. I love my publisher, Gordon, and my editor, Jerry. God is good.
Martha keeps in contact a little better, although I think she begrudges me this move. And Mom is still the stranger in the nursing home. She has had three skin tears recently and I called to leave a message with the social worker about my concerns about it. Mom will not end up like Grandma Dora. That I am certain. If something happens to Mom, like Grandma Dora getting injured, I will contact an attorney and sue their ass. I will not hesitate.
Nursing homes need to have a different role than they do now. But that's for another blog post.
I spent Thanksgiving with the Hopkins family and had the best time. I thought about friends on the West side, but not for long because I was genuinely happy. And with Tonijo's baby, little "Peanut," on the way, it's going to be a great New Year.
I have a small Christmas tree on a chair in front of one of the windows that cheers me up on these long nights. And I decorated the front porch with tiny solar lights and some little trees.
So that's my story. For now. God has more plans, I know. All I have to do is say, "OK, Lord, take the reins." And then listen.
I worked very hard on the Southwest Washington Walk to End Alzheimer's. And all the work certainly paid off.
On a beautiful fall day, Sept. 22, we had 111 walkers at the Port of Kalama's Marine Park. We had sponsors, Cowlitz Indian Tribe drummers who also blessed the Walk, and even Hawaiian dancers. Kalama High School students from the band and leadership class provided wonderful music and lots of help. Mom would have been proud.
The only thing I missed was Martha, who texted me the night before the walk to say she wasn't coming. She claimed that she wasn't feeling well, but I don't believe it, because the day after the Walk, she went to Mr. Bill's for breakfast.
It was during the Walk that I was going to tell Martha I was moving. I got a job at the Whitman County Gazette in Colfax where I grew up and packed up everything and moved. I told the nursing home folks I was moving and gave them my new address, but I wanted to tell Martha in a special way, to let her understand that I needed to do this. I started my new job on Oct. 1, just a little more than a week after the Walk.
As I was packing the Monday after the Walk, there was a knock on the door and Martha walked in. A UHaul truck was parked in the driveway so it was obvious what was going on. But she acted so offended that I hadn't told her and claimed she only stopped to see how the Walk went. When will the lies stop?
I had gathered a few things for her and put them in a box. And my friend, Dennise, who was packing me up, happened to be at the house when Martha arrived and heard the whole conversation. Martha asked if she had to sign some papers to take care of Mom and I said no, nothing had changed. But the next day, the nursing home folks called to say Martha had informed them that she was to be the first one to be called if something happened to Mom. I said I would talk to Martha and get it straightened out and that I was still the Power of Attorney and Martha wasn't. So I called Martha who was just getting out of school. This is the day before I was to leave for Colfax. I told her I had talked to the nursing home and that I will remain the first to be informed if something happens to Mom. I reiterated that she was not the Power of Attorney and she had no authority to do anything. She claimed she was never asked to be a Power of Attorney and I replied that wasn't true, that she said at the time she didn't want anything to do with it. That's when she hung up. I tried calling her back, but she wouldn't answer her phone. It made me sad to leave town with that phone call the last conversation we would have. But I can't control her actions, only she can.
As I was packing along with getting ready for the Walk, my little Yorkie boy, Mattie, got really sick. The Thursday before the Walk, I took him to the vet, Dr. Katie. I just had a feeling he was going to leave me. He couldn't walk and wasn't eating or drinking. Dr. Katie took an x-ray and said she had never seen anything like it. Mattie's little spine was so deformed that she said she was surprised he had lived as long as he did. She said she couldn't do anything for him, so they brought him to me wrapped in a soft towel and I held him as he left me. I told him to find my Abby and she would take care of him until I could be with them. My heart still is heavy with his loss as I write this. He was such a sweet little soul. He was only 11 months old.
Three days after the Walk, early on the morning of Sept. 26, another beautiful fall day, Lizzie (my little Yorkie girl), Gigi, Dennise and I took off for Colfax. We had a good trip and arrived safe and sound, although pretty tired, in Colfax early in the afternoon. Friends met us and unloaded the things in the truck into two storage units. Gigi and Lizzie seemed to like our new temporary quarters which was the home of a high school classmate. The day after we got to Colfax, I met a friend in Naches who took Dennise back to Longview. And on Monday, I started my new job at the Gazette.
Wow, I felt so good to be back home.
I felt a little sad about leaving Mom, but I also know that I have done all I can do for Mom. And I know in my heart that she would want me to do this. I didn't feel one bit sad about leaving that house and I don't care really what happens with it. That never really was my home.
The second day of work, I came down with a cold which only got worse as the week wore on. My upper back began hurting, indicating that I probably had walking pneumonia. By the following Monday, I was very sick and missed work all week. By Friday, Oct. 12, I thought I felt better, and was going to try to go to the office. God had other plans.
I took the girls outside so they could do their business about 7 a.m. I sat on the steps enjoying a beautiful fall day, looking at the gold hills of the Palouse. But when I tried to get up, my body wouldn't respond. I just couldn't get up. The friend I was staying with went to Pullman to shop and when she came back, and I was still on the steps, she called 9-1-1. I pleaded with her not to call them because I have no insurance, but the EMTs came. They checked my blood pressure and then took blood and my blood sugar was 800. Normal levels should hover around 100. They immediately took me to the Colfax hospital. After more tests, chest x-rays and and I don't know how many other tests, the doctors decided that I indeed had pneumonia and probably had diabetes. My mind just couldn't wrap itself around all that. Then the doctor informed me that his superiors were too nervous to have me stay in Colfax and they wanted me to go to Spokane. I just kept thinking about the cost and how I was going to pay for it and on and on and on. The Colfax ambulance was not available so I rode in a MedStar helicopter. Great. I had never been in a helicopter before and I certainly didn't want my first ride to be as a patient, but I didn't have a choice. So into the back of this helicopter I went with two wonderful men hovering over me making sure I made the trip to Spokane. I got into the Sacred Heart ICU later that evening and immediately was greeted by an army of nurses and doctors. They pumped fluids into me and began insulin and checking my blood sugar hourly, or almost hourly. At the time, I didn't really even realize I was in Intensive Care and didn't understand until my friend, Susie, told me later. I remained in the hospital for 11 days. I received excellent care and the best part was that I received Communion every day. Susie came to visit me almost every day. Leanna Brake called almost every day and Fort Wright College classmates, Diane Lobe and Lauriel Kramer Fouquette, came to the hospital to see me.
Three days before doctors said I would probably be discharged, the friend I was staying with called to say that I couldn't come back to their home and I had to make other arrangements. I was so hurt and shocked, but I contacted another friend and got a place to land that night. I made arrangements for the girls to stay with a friend in Spokane and Susie brought them from Colfax to Spokane the next day. Susie worked hard to make my new home as welcome as possible. She stocked my cupboards with pots and pans and silverware and food and brought a couple of chairs and an end table and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. By the time she got me home, it was warm and almost inviting, as inviting as an old single-wide trailer in a trailer park can be. But it's a roof and shelters us from the weather and keeps us warm.
My friend, Mary Perry, kept the girls for more than two weeks as I recuperated at home. I was on oxygen for several days after I got home. Susie came every day to check on me and Tonijo checked on me too. I went back to work on Oct. 31, thankful that my dear publisher kept my job for me.
God is so good to me. I know I am blessed to be alive and healing. It will take me a while to get completely well, but I am getting stronger every day. I give myself insulin shots in the morning and evening after checking my blood sugar levels. My blood sugar has settled down to the point that the docs have decreased my insulin by 20 units a day. The goal is to be able to quit the insulin at one point.
Gigi and Lizzie are still adapting to life here in Colfax. And I LOVE it. I love seeing old friends almost every day, renewing those friendships. And my job is going very well. I am feeling more confident in my writing skills. I love my publisher, Gordon, and my editor, Jerry. God is good.
Martha keeps in contact a little better, although I think she begrudges me this move. And Mom is still the stranger in the nursing home. She has had three skin tears recently and I called to leave a message with the social worker about my concerns about it. Mom will not end up like Grandma Dora. That I am certain. If something happens to Mom, like Grandma Dora getting injured, I will contact an attorney and sue their ass. I will not hesitate.
Nursing homes need to have a different role than they do now. But that's for another blog post.
I spent Thanksgiving with the Hopkins family and had the best time. I thought about friends on the West side, but not for long because I was genuinely happy. And with Tonijo's baby, little "Peanut," on the way, it's going to be a great New Year.
I have a small Christmas tree on a chair in front of one of the windows that cheers me up on these long nights. And I decorated the front porch with tiny solar lights and some little trees.
So that's my story. For now. God has more plans, I know. All I have to do is say, "OK, Lord, take the reins." And then listen.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Being Lonesome
My heart is aching. I think about that old country song that wails, "I'm so lonesome, I could die."
This is the first Fourth of July without Mom, yet another first since she left me. And even though this particular holiday wasn't a real big deal to us, we still shared it.
I'd take Mom to the parade and afterwards, if it wasn't too hot, we'd go to see all the vendors surrounding parts of the lake. If it was too hot, we'd come back home and I usually barbecued hamburgers. Sometimes friends would come to share our meal. And then we'd watch the neighbors' fireworks. Last year, she was too sick to remember what the Fourth of July was, but she still liked seeing the brightly colored sparkles as neighbors celebrated.
I miss my best friend.
I miss sitting on the patio talking about the flowers and how it must be time for some Miracle Grow. I miss hearing her voice, hearing her noise in the house - she was one of noisiest people I've ever known - hearing her laugh, talking on the phone, reporting on neighbors' activities. I miss all this and much more.
And Alzheimer's, that damned disease that has no cure, took my best friend away from me.
I am slowly finding my own way in life, such as organizing the Southwest Washington Walk to End Alzheimer's, which is keeping me busier than I thought, and trying to find a job and just surviving one day at a time.
But it's not easy.
I think about what Mom would do in the same situation. I know she would pick herself up by the boot straps and keep on going. Mom was so tough. I realize I am not her. I'm not nearly as tough as she was and in some ways, still is.
I also know she isn't happy, knowing something is wrong and can't quite figure out exactly what it is. I know that must irritate her and bewilder her.
I hope and my daily prayer is my God comes to get her soon and takes her Home where she will be happy and at peace.
This is the first Fourth of July without Mom, yet another first since she left me. And even though this particular holiday wasn't a real big deal to us, we still shared it.
I'd take Mom to the parade and afterwards, if it wasn't too hot, we'd go to see all the vendors surrounding parts of the lake. If it was too hot, we'd come back home and I usually barbecued hamburgers. Sometimes friends would come to share our meal. And then we'd watch the neighbors' fireworks. Last year, she was too sick to remember what the Fourth of July was, but she still liked seeing the brightly colored sparkles as neighbors celebrated.
I miss my best friend.
I miss sitting on the patio talking about the flowers and how it must be time for some Miracle Grow. I miss hearing her voice, hearing her noise in the house - she was one of noisiest people I've ever known - hearing her laugh, talking on the phone, reporting on neighbors' activities. I miss all this and much more.
And Alzheimer's, that damned disease that has no cure, took my best friend away from me.
I am slowly finding my own way in life, such as organizing the Southwest Washington Walk to End Alzheimer's, which is keeping me busier than I thought, and trying to find a job and just surviving one day at a time.
But it's not easy.
I think about what Mom would do in the same situation. I know she would pick herself up by the boot straps and keep on going. Mom was so tough. I realize I am not her. I'm not nearly as tough as she was and in some ways, still is.
I also know she isn't happy, knowing something is wrong and can't quite figure out exactly what it is. I know that must irritate her and bewilder her.
I hope and my daily prayer is my God comes to get her soon and takes her Home where she will be happy and at peace.
Monday, June 25, 2012
In the meantime ...
Mom continues to decline. She weighs less than 100 pounds, down about 10 pounds from when she was admitted to this latest facility in March. Staff is doing everything they possibly can to make Mom eat, but she is just not interested.
This also is part of the last stages of Alzheimer's. The Alzheimer's victim can't tell you if they're hungry because they no longer recognize the feeling of hunger. Sometimes, they even forget how to swallow. But eventually, if something else doesn't happen to their bodies, they starve to death. And that's what is happening to Mom. Her body is shutting down. The nurses tell me she would rather feed her stuffed animal that she constantly carries than eat herself.
I can't stand to see her like this. Although I have been battling a wicked flu bug, I haven't seen Mom in almost a month. And I'm not sure I want to. I don't want to spend the rest of my life remembering Mom like she is now. I want to remember her with a big smile on her face, outside in the sun snipping roses and bitching about the thorns while at the same time taking deep whiffs of the roses' scents. I want to remember her dancing in the kitchen when she thought something was funny. I want to remember her carving our Thanksgiving turkey and proudly taking it to the table where candlelight glimmered against our good china. I want to cherish and keep all those memories close to my heart.
Not the memory of some old woman I don't know who spends all her time in a wheelchair and doesn't know who I am. My last memory of my Grandma Dora, Mom's mother, is in a hospital bed in a nursing home saying she peed her pants. She didn't know Mom or me and then she died. I don't want that memory to be my last one of Mom. It's bad enough to remember Mom being wheeled out of the house and into an ambulance on a dark, stormy night. It's bad enough seeing her in a nursing home. I call and talk to nurses about how Mom is doing, and they call me if something happens. For now, that's good enough.
Surprisingly, Martha visits Mom more often than she ever has. I don't understand why, but at least she's stepping up to the plate.
Not only do I have to deal with Mom, I have to deal with running out of money. I am still not employed and my farm income is just about gone. I know God has a plan - I just wish He'd let me in on it! I feel like I'm treading water and have no real direction.
And I pray daily that God takes Mom in her sleep, that He comes into her room, cradles her in His Arms, and takes her Home. I pray this not for myself, but because I know Mom would be happier.
Mom continues to decline. She weighs less than 100 pounds, down about 10 pounds from when she was admitted to this latest facility in March. Staff is doing everything they possibly can to make Mom eat, but she is just not interested.
This also is part of the last stages of Alzheimer's. The Alzheimer's victim can't tell you if they're hungry because they no longer recognize the feeling of hunger. Sometimes, they even forget how to swallow. But eventually, if something else doesn't happen to their bodies, they starve to death. And that's what is happening to Mom. Her body is shutting down. The nurses tell me she would rather feed her stuffed animal that she constantly carries than eat herself.
I can't stand to see her like this. Although I have been battling a wicked flu bug, I haven't seen Mom in almost a month. And I'm not sure I want to. I don't want to spend the rest of my life remembering Mom like she is now. I want to remember her with a big smile on her face, outside in the sun snipping roses and bitching about the thorns while at the same time taking deep whiffs of the roses' scents. I want to remember her dancing in the kitchen when she thought something was funny. I want to remember her carving our Thanksgiving turkey and proudly taking it to the table where candlelight glimmered against our good china. I want to cherish and keep all those memories close to my heart.
Not the memory of some old woman I don't know who spends all her time in a wheelchair and doesn't know who I am. My last memory of my Grandma Dora, Mom's mother, is in a hospital bed in a nursing home saying she peed her pants. She didn't know Mom or me and then she died. I don't want that memory to be my last one of Mom. It's bad enough to remember Mom being wheeled out of the house and into an ambulance on a dark, stormy night. It's bad enough seeing her in a nursing home. I call and talk to nurses about how Mom is doing, and they call me if something happens. For now, that's good enough.
Surprisingly, Martha visits Mom more often than she ever has. I don't understand why, but at least she's stepping up to the plate.
Not only do I have to deal with Mom, I have to deal with running out of money. I am still not employed and my farm income is just about gone. I know God has a plan - I just wish He'd let me in on it! I feel like I'm treading water and have no real direction.
And I pray daily that God takes Mom in her sleep, that He comes into her room, cradles her in His Arms, and takes her Home. I pray this not for myself, but because I know Mom would be happier.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The Journey Continues
And the journey's not getting any easier.
In fact, it's getting more and more difficult.
Tomorrow, Mother's Day, marks yet another first in my journey since Mom left me to reside in a nursing home. Truthfully, I kept thinking she would come back to me some day and I could continue some how, some way, to care for her. But that didn't happen. In March, she came back up to a Longview nursing facility that is a thousand times better than the previous one.
When we found her a primary care physician because Hospice dropped Mom as a client, the doctor said she was doing physically very well. Her heart's good, lungs are good, circulation seems fine. And all the while I kept thinking, "Damn."
After her doctor's visit, I just couldn't see Mom any more. That sounds horrible, doesn't it? I mean, who doesn't want to see their own Mother?
Me.
Because, Mom isn't my Mom any more. When I look into her eyes, they are just blank. And they didn't used to be blank. My Mom's eyes are very, very blue, and had this Irish spark in them that you could see a mile away.
Sometimes, I didn't want to see that spark because I knew I was in trouble. But most of the time, it was a fun-loving spark that twinkled with delight and mischief.
Not any longer. Mom's eyes are still blue, but they are dull. No life, no spark, no Irish mischief.
How I miss that.
So today, I made myself go up to the nursing home to see Mom and take her some summer shirts to wear since the weather decided to be warm. I also took a little green toy piglet that oinks and walks when turned on.
I waited until after lunch, because I was procrastinating. I washed my hair, couldn't decide what to wear and finally just made myself go out the door and make the 15-minute drive.
When I arrived, Mom was sleeping soundly and I didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful - and so thin.
I talked to one of the nurses who said Mom now weighs 102 pounds, down from 108 pounds last month. The nurse said Mom eats a little and then tries to feed her stuffed animals. Mom is to the point now that she even tries to make her stuffed animals drink the Ensure they give her.
That's part of this insidious disease. How I loathe this Alzheimer's Disease. I HATE what it's doing to my Mom. And I HATE that I can't do a damned thing about it. I just have to sit and watch my Mom, who was one of the strongest women I know, deteriorate into this person who is not familiar to me in the least.
And anyone who reads this may think I am a monster for thinking this, but I wish Mom would die. I just don't understand why God wants her to remain here on Earth declining daily. He and I are going to have a very long conversation about this when I get to see Him.
This is yet another first in the last five months that I have endured. My first birthday without Mom, my sister's first birthday without Mom, the first Easter without Mom and now Mother's Day. Memorial Day will be difficult because Mom and I shared so many trips over to Colfax for that day, carrying pots filled with colorful flowers for our family's graves. On June 8, it will be her 92nd birthday. Not looking forward to that either.
And I don't want to remember my Mom like she is now. I want to remember the fiesty Irish woman who loved to laugh and play jokes and dance around the kitchen and watch John Wayne movies and work in the yard and tend to her garden and carefully groom her roses so she could see their big blooms and smell the roses' individual fragrances. I don't want to remember her as the shriveled old woman, lying in a nursing home bed, not knowing my name or her name and not being able to even talk to me.
I don't know when I'll force myself to make another trip to that place. I guess I better start praying now for God to give me the strength to make it up there again.
In fact, it's getting more and more difficult.
Tomorrow, Mother's Day, marks yet another first in my journey since Mom left me to reside in a nursing home. Truthfully, I kept thinking she would come back to me some day and I could continue some how, some way, to care for her. But that didn't happen. In March, she came back up to a Longview nursing facility that is a thousand times better than the previous one.
When we found her a primary care physician because Hospice dropped Mom as a client, the doctor said she was doing physically very well. Her heart's good, lungs are good, circulation seems fine. And all the while I kept thinking, "Damn."
After her doctor's visit, I just couldn't see Mom any more. That sounds horrible, doesn't it? I mean, who doesn't want to see their own Mother?
Me.
Because, Mom isn't my Mom any more. When I look into her eyes, they are just blank. And they didn't used to be blank. My Mom's eyes are very, very blue, and had this Irish spark in them that you could see a mile away.
Sometimes, I didn't want to see that spark because I knew I was in trouble. But most of the time, it was a fun-loving spark that twinkled with delight and mischief.
Not any longer. Mom's eyes are still blue, but they are dull. No life, no spark, no Irish mischief.
How I miss that.
So today, I made myself go up to the nursing home to see Mom and take her some summer shirts to wear since the weather decided to be warm. I also took a little green toy piglet that oinks and walks when turned on.
I waited until after lunch, because I was procrastinating. I washed my hair, couldn't decide what to wear and finally just made myself go out the door and make the 15-minute drive.
When I arrived, Mom was sleeping soundly and I didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful - and so thin.
I talked to one of the nurses who said Mom now weighs 102 pounds, down from 108 pounds last month. The nurse said Mom eats a little and then tries to feed her stuffed animals. Mom is to the point now that she even tries to make her stuffed animals drink the Ensure they give her.
That's part of this insidious disease. How I loathe this Alzheimer's Disease. I HATE what it's doing to my Mom. And I HATE that I can't do a damned thing about it. I just have to sit and watch my Mom, who was one of the strongest women I know, deteriorate into this person who is not familiar to me in the least.
And anyone who reads this may think I am a monster for thinking this, but I wish Mom would die. I just don't understand why God wants her to remain here on Earth declining daily. He and I are going to have a very long conversation about this when I get to see Him.
This is yet another first in the last five months that I have endured. My first birthday without Mom, my sister's first birthday without Mom, the first Easter without Mom and now Mother's Day. Memorial Day will be difficult because Mom and I shared so many trips over to Colfax for that day, carrying pots filled with colorful flowers for our family's graves. On June 8, it will be her 92nd birthday. Not looking forward to that either.
And I don't want to remember my Mom like she is now. I want to remember the fiesty Irish woman who loved to laugh and play jokes and dance around the kitchen and watch John Wayne movies and work in the yard and tend to her garden and carefully groom her roses so she could see their big blooms and smell the roses' individual fragrances. I don't want to remember her as the shriveled old woman, lying in a nursing home bed, not knowing my name or her name and not being able to even talk to me.
I don't know when I'll force myself to make another trip to that place. I guess I better start praying now for God to give me the strength to make it up there again.
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