Mission Accomplished

It seems incredible that the removal of a largish-smallish bump on a wrist could take all day. But it did. I started getting myself ready at about 8:30 and her ready at about 9:30 this morning and we finally got home at around 6 PM. Thank goodness August came to help carry her in her wheelchair outside and then this evening inside again because there's no way she could have gotten up or down the stairs. What do other people do? I guess they don't.

The nurses were so absolutely lovely. I think they were quite smitten with Mary. She, for her part, at least on the way there, was outraged. She kept demanding that I take her back home and saying that there was nothing wrong with her and asking over and over where we were going and why. I guess when we got there, she figured there was no more protesting or else she was a bit cowed by the seriousness of finding herself in a hospital gown in a hospital bed with nurses doing things to her. Finally (I say with a sort of relief), her hand did start to hurt her again. The relief was short-lived, though, because she kept telling me it was hurting, to which I'd reply that that was precisely why we were there at the hospital.

Unfortunately, her platelets were high and they heard some noises in her lungs, so they decided to do a chest x-ray. Apparently, the surgeon was not happy about that and was chomping on the bit. He said it was the fifth ganglian cyst he'd operated on today. He may be a great surgeon, but he had zip personality. Hm. Maybe he's having a hard time at the moment. I should be more...what's the word? Sympathetic? At any rate, we have to go back to see him (when he'll remove the bandages) this Thursday, so I'll have another chance to see if he really is so flat a character. Not that it matters. I shouldn't be so judgemental...

So they said that everything went fine. She's got a huge amount of bandages on her arm and hand and she has to keep it elevated above her heart or wear a sling if she gets up. It looks like we'll be camped out in the living room for another week. I'm rather enjoying sleeping on the floor. I always have enjoyed sleeping in places I wasn't supposed to--like the couch.

I finshed listening to another audiobook--The End of Summer by Rosamund Pilcher. I really like her a lot. The lady who was reading had a Scottish accent and now I keep hearing a voice with a Scottish accent in my head! I think I'd really like to live there for a bit. If everyone is as RP describes them, that is. They seem a bit standoffish and unemotional but still quite honest. Hm. That could describe a German as well!

It's rather lonely around here at the moment. The kitty has stolen my chair. Mary is sleeping very soundly. I wonder if I should give her another Darvocet. She's due for it. I don't want her to start hurting. But if she's sleeping...I hate to wake her up. She didn't sleep well last night. (That means I didn't either!) She compained a lot about her hand, so I gave her a Darvocet and an Aleve over the course of the day. Then the only thing left was the Tramadol, so I gave her that finally at 7:15 last night. Well, it really went to her head. She saw all kinds of people and kept asking me about them. I was trying to make springerles. I finally finished up and went to bed around 10:30. She just kept talking to people and asking me questions. She kept asking why all these people were in her living room, why was that man on the ceiling, shouldn't those little ones be in bed, where was her lamp, she wanted to go home... and yelling for me. I answered a few times (sometimes with some expletives, I admit) and sat next to her on her chair. Nothing seemed to help much, so by 2 AM I told her I just wasn't going to answer anymore. She said my face was covered with ants, there were ants everywhere. I felt sick to my stomach. I had done that to her. But she didn't seem to be freaking out, more making comments. Well, except about her lamp. She was quite angry about that. I guess she finally wore herself out. At one point I got up and listened to see if she was still breathing. I wondered if I'd caused her to have a heart attack. Usually she breathes so loudly. Oh, it was so funny at the hospital today. After the nurse put the IV in, she asked Mary if it was ok. Mary said no, it hurt. The nurse finished up, giving Mary some medicine/drugs through the IV. Mary made another coment about how it still wasn't good and then the next second let out the loudest snore. We all had a good laugh ;-)

I'll be so glad when she gets back to normal. Back to herself. She was still talking to people a bit tonight and reaching for things in the air that weren't there. I gave her the liquid from the hash I'd made last night and a few spoonfuls of jello and, of course, a cup of coffee (I got some Sanka--it's not bad) and even a couple of springerles. It's a new recipe. They're delicious! But all the patterns faded away in the oven. There was so much butter in the recipe. But, hell, these would be worth just cutting into squares and making without the pattern!

I guess I'll go back to my knitting. At this rate I might finish Mary's afghan soon! (I've been working on it for a few years now.) I'm going to listen next to Dragonrider by Cornelia Funke.

Helpless

I'm so ashamed of myself. All last night I felt so sorry for myself because Mary was being such a bother. All night I heard her making noises and paid no attention, this morning begging her to let me sleep a little longer. I'm so dumb! I thought she kept leaning over and messing in the trash can. It didn't occur to me, the idiot, that she had fallen over and couldn't sit back up. She knew something was wrong with her and was worried and I was just annoyed that she wouldn't be quiet.

I finally got a clue this morning around 7:30 and helped her sit up. Actually, I got scared b/c I started thinking that maybe she'd had a stroke. I sat her up and she said she had to use the potty. She wanted to know why she couldn't move her right arm or talk properly. She just kept mumbling. I think I may have shouted something at one point and her eyes flew open and she talked quite normally. Maybe that was after the potty. But it didn't last long.

I knew it would be hard getting her on the potty because she was so out of it and my back was killing me--from lifting her all week and sleeping on the floor. I lifted her up--she couldn't even manage to put her good arm around my neck. She reached out and grabbed the potty chair and as I lifted her up, she lifted the chair up. I yelled at her to put it down. I was freaking out, as you can imagine, lifting 105 lb and not having anywhere to put it. She got her feelings all hurt because I yelled at her! I told her I was just stressed and freaked out. Boy, she carried on and carried on about my yelling at her. On the potty she couldn't sit up straight. I kept trying to hold her up but it was like she was pushing against sitting up. I never can get her pants down quickly enough, so the back of them always gets wet. I hate to change them just because of this (I'm using Poise and they aren't cheap), but I wouldn't want wet undies in the back. Plus, that could cause skin problems.

As usual, whenever I take a wet wipe and wipe her urethra (is that right?), she pees again. She'll sit there without peeing but the moment I do that, it comes running out again. She did a fair amount, which is good. I barely managed to get her undies and pants back up. She just couldn't hold on to me or stand. I always think of the Hulk in moments like that and pray that God will give me the extra strength I need. I had to sit her down once but then I managed to get her onto the chair. Luckily, I can lift the foot right away to keep her from sliding out. Then I run around to the back and pull her up under the armpits. Her poor armpits are bruised and I'm sure they must be sore from me yanking on them. You know, this helpless state, isn't that the way the majority of old people are? I mean, haven't we been lucky that none of the aunts have been like this permanently?

When I got her in her chair and straightened her up, she seemed to be more with it. She just kept asking me what was wrong with her. Her hand burned a bit, but she meant the drugged out state, not the pain. I wondered whether I should give her anything else, since her hand was hurting. The only thing I've given her since I came in yesterday was an Aleve, I believe. I take notes, but after a while your brain is so muddled, you're not sure if you took notes properly. I try to write out when the next few pills are due, so I can be ready at the proper time but sometimes I don't give it to her then, and then I get confused. I try to put an X through the time if I didn't give it to her then and to cross it out straight through if I did, but my system doesn't always hold up under my duress, as in the case of this last night. Anyway, she was with it enough to not want me to give her anything else! She said she was afraid to take anything else.

I thought maybe some coffee would do her good and she said she'd take some if I thought it would help. I said I thought she seemed better and she said, no, she wasn't. Then I remembered that I had to give her her early morning pills and she can't have anything to eat or drink for an hour afterwards, so I gave those to her, explaining what each one was for (low thyroid, indigestion, poor circulation). The I asked if she wanted to listen to her church music. She said she did, which was a relief to me as it was a sign of normalcy. I put some music on and warmed up her booties since her toes were cold. She was out of it by then. I went in the kitchen to make myself some tea. (I've been drinking big, double-sized cups with sugar. I only put sugar in my tea as a treat when I'm feeling stressed out.) A couple of times she called me back into the living room. She wanted to know if I was still there. You know, I think as she was stuck leaning over the chair all night, she wondered where she was and where I was, why I wasn't there to help her. I feel so awful. Like such a traitor.

She also called me back because she was seeing things. She'd said earlier that she'd seen two bugs. I feel even worse. She was stuck leaning over the edge of the chair all night and was seeing bugs. That would be enough to make me lose my mind.

Now she's snoring occasionally, which I take also as a good sign of normalcy. At least she's asleep. Last night she kept saying she couldn't sleep. Maybe because she'd done nothing but sleep for several days. I wonder if these drugs stay in her system longer and if they've been sort of accumulating, so to say. Well, at least her hand isn't hurting her and that's definitely something to be happy about.

She just asked me to turn the music down--thank goodness! I turned it down, she kept saying what I thought was "lower" and then she said, "Can't you turn it up any higher than that?" Argh! Then she somehow saw the cat and said, "Hi, Kitty! We've got two cats?" "No, just one," I answered. Should I have said, "Uh-huh," and left it at that?

Well, I'm going to go digging in my knitting needles. I've got a crazy idea that I want to make a lace poncho for my goddaughter. Like I'll be able to finish by Xmas. Ha! (My idea was that a lace pattern would be quicker.) You know how you get these ideas in your head and just can't get them out? I have also had this idea for years now to make vintage aprons. Pretty ones, not the ugly ones you see on the internet. And ones that are made of useful materials. Apparently, aprons are back in but just the flimsy, decorative ones. Those don't interest me. I'm into practical things. Practical but pretty.

Restless

She is so restless tonight. She just won't settle down. She's also saying she won't sleep out here in the living room, even though I've explained why and that I'll be sleeping right in front of her on the floor. She's not really awake, but she just keeps moving around and picking at things and talking. I was trying to listen to my audiobook and she just kept asking me questions. She especially kept making the comment, "We don't want to see each other die." I think she thought Angie or Anna was here. Maybe she's thinking about Angie being sick. I tried the TV but she didn't pay any attention to it. I'm going to turn the computer off and lie down. I can't imagine going to sleep so early, but if it helps her...

I've turned out all the other lights, but it hasn't done any good. I'd get out my walkman, but I'm afraid I won't hear her. In her state she's likely to put her chair down and get up!

She was due a Darvocet about an hour ago, but she's not complaining about her hand and hasn't said anything about it for so long, I think I'll leave it till around midnight. I've had a brace on her hand all day and that may have helped.

She kind of woke up around eleven and ate a whole banana. I couldn't believe it. I don't think she's eaten a whole banana in years! Then she had to use the potty. It surprises me that I don't mind wiping her in the least--if she can get her legs open. It's rather like wiping a baby. I think if you love a person, then it really doesn't bother you. But sometimes the stench is rather overwhelming!

I hope they call me tomorrow to give me some instructions. If I don't hear from them by noon, I'll call the office b/c I need to know about whether to give her any medication before she goes to the hospital. Luckily August says he can help me carry her chair out to the car b/c she can't walk in her current state.

It's been rather lonely here tonight with her being so out of it. Last night was fun but tonight was a bit lonely and depressing, just like when I lived alone.

I took Anna her Xmas present today. She was as friendly as ever she was before a year ago. She acted like she was tickled pink about the present and told me about how she uses a heating pad at night. But you never know with Anna. She's likely to tell someone else about how extravagent or silly a gift it was. I hope she and Angie use the booties.

I feel so awful about Mary's current state. Did I give her too many drugs? Why is she like this? Did Bonnie give her the wrong pills?

Sleeping Reprieve

I feel like such a rat, keeping Mary so drugged all the time. I spread her medicine out a bit more during the night but this morning she woke up and was complaining about her hand, so I gave her some more. She kept saying that she couldn't move her arm and that her hand was so cold. I heated a "bean bag" and put it under her hand and then she started saying it was burning. She just kept asking what was wrong with it and why couldn't she move it. I'm so tired of telling her, "You've got a cyst on your wrist and it must be pressing on a nerve." It's partly so annoying because it rhymes. Why is that so annoying? I told her several times to let it rest and not try to move it. When I asked if she wanted to go back to sleep, she said no, so I made her some coffee, which she took two sips of and proceeded to fall back asleep, so I pushed her chair back into a reclining position. I just let her sleep in her lazy boy all night--in case I had to put her on the potty. It's so much easier to get her in and out of her chair, although last night I really almost cried because I thought I wasn't going to be able to manage it in her combined drugged and handless state. This has all made me quite fearful about what I'll do if Mary lives so long that she becomes really incapacitated. I don't think I could handle her alone.

I'm concerned that she's not eating and therefore also not having a bowel movement. She managed about a cup of broth yesterday. That was it. Well, a bit of Coke and a bit of Ginger Ale, too. I think I'll mix some Benefiber in with some broth today. I should also try to get her to drink a bit of her juice with potassium in it. I don't want her potassium level sinking too low. You know, I can just see her ending up in the hospital because of all of this. I mean, I have tried to continue her medication, but there's one drug that needs to be given with food, so I haven't been able to give her that. And she hasn't gotten her potassium, either. And regardless of my playing it cool to her, I am quite concerned that she said she couldn't move her arm. Maybe it was just the drugs speaking because she did seem to be able to move it. I feel so all alone and so unhelped. I feel like none of the doctors or medical staff has taken her seriously. Do they really care so little about old people?

I'm also concerned that she hasn't brushed her teeth for days. Can I brush them for her? I don't want her to choke. And if I wake her up, she'll just start complaining about her hand again. Luckily, it seems that if I start singing Brahms' Lullaby or I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen, she slips off to sleep, or Sleepytown, as she calls it.

Yesterday when Bonnie came in and asked how she was, even though she'd been in horrible pain and sleeping all day, she sat bolt upright and her eyes popped open and she said, "I'm fine, honey!" She soon resumed her sleep, though, and Bonnie says she slept all the while I was gone. However, as soon as I got back, her hand started hurting again.

I have to admit, it was nice to not have to watch TV last night. For once to be able to keep it off and not have those blaring commercials and stupid laugh-track. I listened to The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke--a book on tape I'd gotten out of the library. It's really so good. She's a German author who is so popular that her books are printed simultaneously in English as well as German.

Oh, Mom and I went out to visit Angie yesterday, to take her the Xmas present from Mary--booties that can be warmed in the microwave. She thought they were ugly till I heated them and put them on her and then she thought they were heavenly :-) Mary had the same reaction. I'm so glad Mom got to see Angie. I tell you, those women, that family, they're so unemotional. Is that German stoicism? The Beislers and Zimmermanns were from southern Germany, so they shouldn't have been so stoic. But I guess all Germans are rather unemotional compared to other nationalities--except when they're not. I'm blabbering. But it's true that Germans tend to be extreme, whatever they are being.

I almost finished putting up the Xmas decorations last night. It's hard to get in the mood when Mary doesn't care. Oh, I also went down and got Angie's Xmas tree. Annette had taken all the lights and decorations off of it. Silly girl, but she insists on doing things her way. Angie is the one who taught me to just leave everything on the tree and throw a trash bag over it before stowing it away. I put the lights on it and put it in the living room and plugged it in, but I couldn't be bothered to put the ornaments on it. I wish I could decorate as much for Angie as I do for Mary because I know Angie would appreciate it so much more. Well, maybe Mary will like it when she's herself again. Although then we're supposed to go visit Gina and by the time we get back it will pretty much be Xmas already. I'm worried about that visit, too. More so than I was before. Well, if Mary doesn't feel well, then we just can't visit Gina. Fred can take Mom and Dad, that's all there is to it. Gina can have a crisis, as they say in German, but I can't jeopordize Mary's health like that.

Misery

I think the last week, especially the last few days, have been the worst in my life. Am I just getting old, I wonder, because surely I've been through much worse with Mary. Maybe the novelty has worn off. Maybe it's just a fact that not being able to use a hand is much worse than not being able to use a leg. That might be true, because it's harder to get her onto the bed because she can't use her right hand to push her body back. So I have to hope she doesn't slide off and hop up quickly behind her and pull her up. That's not great for her arms where I'm grabbing her under the armpits and it's even worse for my back. This, combined with my having to then get up behind her and pull her up toward the head of the bed and having to pick her up to transfer her from chair to chair to bed, is definitely taking a toll on my back. What will we do tomorrow when Bonnie is here? Well, I do think Bonnie is stronger than I am, but I certainly can't ask her to do these things. Well, I can't stress about it. I'll just keep my mouth shut and let Bonnie deal with it. No, I know I won't. But I can't stress about it right now.

Yes, it's definitely harder to transfer someone who can't use their hand or the lower part of their arm because they can't hold onto you. Add to that the fact that Mary's legs are much weaker than they used to be and it makes sense that my back is hurting me! It's also a problem that Mary's right hand is the one that's hurt because she is right-handed. So now I'm having to wipe after she urinates, as well as after she has a bowel movement. I don't mind as long as she can get her legs apart :-) She so drugged out right now that she's not very capable of doing even that.

Yes, started Friday on the way home from the surgeon's to pick up the wheelchair, which I stupidly forgot, her hand started hurting like never before. I should have pulled over immediately and given her some medication (not that it seems to be helping). When I took her up to his office, she was still moaning and groaning furiously. Luckily, we didn't get those five inches of snow that was predicted and the ice was dried up by strong winds overnight. I recognized the office building somehow. I know I've taken Mary there before but I can't remember why for the life of me. Anyway, we had to wait a while because we'd lost our appointment. I'd been running late to begin with because you just can't rush a 94-year-old even if you do get her up several hours before you have to leave. She just kept falling asleep on me. I should have gotten more things together the night before...

The doctor finally came in and when he asked Mary how she was--a ridiculous questin considering that she'd been moaning loudly ever since I brought her into the office--she gave an even more ridiculous answer: fine. I swear, that woman could be dying of a heart attack and she'd still say she was fine if someone came in and asked her! Well, I didn't care much for this doctor (or his staff). They were all rather cold and unfeeling. I guess Dr R has spoiled me. Well, he said that the cyst was filled with joint fluid and having it operated on was usually elective surgery. Then he paused. I wondered what in the hell he was driving at. He finished, "But since she's in such pain..." I mentioned in the course of the discussion that the Hydrocodone didn't seem to be doing any good and we discussed that she didn't react well to Vicadon, which Gina had informed was the same as Hydrocodone! So he said to switch to Darvocet. I don't have much faith in Darvocet helping Mary, either, actually, but kept this (stupidly?) to myself. I wish he had given me a prescrition for something stronger. I mean, he saw how much pain she was in. Why didn't I ask him?!

Well, that pain continued all day until late in the night. I gave her Aleve every eight hours and Darvocet every four hours. Waves of pain would take hold and cause her to sweat profusely. I felt so helpless. You know, that constant moaning and groaning has been especially wearing. I don't know why I let it get to me. She always moans a lot anyway and always says it's just something she has to do and to tell her to stop if I don't like it--although she always takes offense, then, when I do tell her to stop. I tell her that she'll end up like the boy who cried wolf because one day she'll be moaning about something serious and I'll just ignore her.

Saturday things seemed to have gotten under control and I continued the Aleve and Darvocet therapy--with smaller waves of pain. But I didn't continue the medicine through the night and that was a big mistake. Sunday was worse and around 4:30 PM she started having much, much worse pain. I eventually called 911 but when they finally answered they said there were more pressing cases and the ambulance wouldn't be there for a while if they called one for us. I was rather annoyed, let me tell you, but I told them fine, I'd try to get her into the car. I was so scared that I'd drop her but we managed alright.

I took her to Audubon but was a nervous wreck from her moaning the whole time. I'd never been to that ER, and I didn't know where to park or where the entrance was. They have this stupid sort of track running along in front of the pavilion leading to the entrance and the wheelchair almost got overturned going over it. There was very little light and it was raining. I hit my leg on the wheelchair and it's still incredibly sore.

When they checked us in they gave us this sort of pager thing like they use in restaurants! How crappy! How cheap! How impersonal! The first time it buzzed we were supposed to go over and take care of paper work. That got taken care of fairly quickly. Then we proceeded to wait. It got colder and colder. Luckily, I'd had two blankets in the car and had also thrown Mary's robe over her. Those friggin assholes made Mary sit there in pain for two hours! She was practically passing out from shock. I couldn't restrain myself from giving him a small piece of my mind when the man who finally came to help her jovially commented on her age. He merely replied in his continued jovial manner that two hours was not bad for the ER. And all over there were signs about their five-star service and customer satisfaction! Piss on that!

They gave Mary a prescription for Tramadol, which I believe is a form of Codein (sp?). A young lady came back to give us this and made a comment about hoping we were happy with how this solution since we'd been unhappy about the wait. Argh! Luckily, the pharmacist was able to fill the prescription immediately. Mary was also able to get up the stairs. I really didn't want to bother August at 9PM on a rainy Sunday night.

She was in pain all night and through the first half of the day. She'd moan and grimace and jerk in her sleep. She seemed to want me there next to her but didn't want me to touch her. This is hard for me because when I stroke or touch her then I feel like I'm doing something to help her. I finally figured out that singing to her seemed to soothe her and help her sleep. I just kept repeating the Schubert Ave Maria (what I could remember) and Brahms' Wiegenlied/Lullaby. The latter made me so sleepy, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I slept most of the night in my own bed but after getting up around 5AM, I finally decided to pull the cushion for the swing (outside) into her room and sleep there. As a result, I didn't reset my alarm clock like I had been and got confused about what I'd given her. I probably gave her a double dose of something. Maybe that's what helped because she finally just slept without any obvious pain.

Talk about confusing! I give her the Darvocet every four hours, the Aleve every eight hours and the Tramadol every six hours. Except I have to make sure that I give her the Tramadol no sooner than two hours after Aleve, which means I'm really giving it to her evey eight hours. I made out a little time-sheet but every once in a while something would get off. Argh! I'll try to stretch the Darvocet out to every six hours tonight and see about tomorrow. Maybe I should make the Darvocet every eight hours. Or maybe I should keep it every six hours and try to cut out the Tramadol. They said only to give it as needed but I don't know if she needs it until she starts feeling pain, but by the time she feels the pain, it's too late for the medication to help much for a long time. Help!

Mom made the comment that if Eddie were alive, he'd have gotten her an appoint with the surgeon earlier than Friday. I do certainly miss being able to ask for his advice. Or even for Chris' advice, but I don't feel comfortable asking Chris for medical advice anymore. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Or me, either, for that matter! (to be honest)

She said she wanted to get up at around 4:30 but all she did was sleep and hallucinate the whole time. Luckily, she seems to be having good visions and laughs a lot. She wouldn't eat hardly anything all day. Just a few bites of banana and cooked carrot and a few small glasses of buttermilk and soy milk--to take the Darvocet. She threatened to throw up several times. Yesterday she started off the day by throwing up. She also drank about one and a half cups of coffee and half a can of coke--I thought it would settle her stomach.

I hope she's better tomorrow. I want to take Angie and Anna their Xmas presents--booties that can be warmed in the microwave. Mary really likes hers but they're so heavy that I'm concerned that Angie and Anna won't be able to carry them to and from the microwave. Maybe they can carry one shoe at a time. Mom said she'd go out to visit Angie with me. I also have several other errands to run. I hate that feeling of pressure. I mean, I've only got three hours and it goes so quickly. Last Thursday I made eight stops in my three hours. I was quite proud of myself. But I didn't have any fun, let me tell you. Maybe that's also why I'm so stressed-out. I haven't gotten any Xmas cookies made and that makes me very sad because that's something I really enjoy. It's hard to get into things, though, because Mary says she doesn't care one way or the other.

Oh, I took a picture of Mary and me that Fred took and made a Xmas card of it. I think people have really liked it. (But it does make me look fat!)

Mary's in there moaning and it almost time for her next pill, so I've got to go.

Visits

I forgot to add about the doctor's visit that Dr R gave me some samples of Zantac 75 to give Mary in addition to her Protonix. So far it has worked like a charm when she had that "Give me something to eat right now--I've got a pain in the stomach" syndrome. It helped her when she had the pain in the chest, too, but it took longer and I wondered if I shouldn't have just given her some Mylanta. Well, I'm supposed to give her two Zantac a day. Ugh! More pills!

Dr R also gave me a starter kit and a prescription for Namenda--another Alzheimer's drug. She'll have to take that twice a day, too, eventually. I just don't know about all of these drugs I'm pumping her full of . I think just all of those drugs would kill me!

Dr R told me that her father had a stroke and is a paraplegic (sp?) now. I feel so bad. I wish there was something I could do for her. I always want to give her Xmas cookies, but Mom always discourages me. She says so many people don't like to eat things other people have made and I know what she means. You never know how clean they keep their kitchen or if they lick their fingers. (You remember how Mary and Anna always hated the way Angie licked her fingers so much. Well, when she was here helping me make the chicken pot pie, sure enough when she wanted to taste it, she just stuck her finger in it to taste it, instead of using a spoon. Now, I don't know why she did that since it was hot, but it did gross me out, even though I'm sure her finger was clean. So now I know what Mary and Anna were always talking about!)

Oh, on the way home from the doctor, Mary and I stopped by to see Anna. The weather was warm, so I knew Anna could come out to the car. Boy, was she surprised! She seemed very happy to see Mary, but who knows... She looked a lot older than a year ago. The way she talked, I could tell that she has no idea about how fragile Mary has gotten and that she can't walk very well. She carried on about how no one offers to help her with her leaves--her front yard is covered. Now, why do the aunts always tell me what no one will do for them? I'm not free to help them. As it is, I have a problem helping Mom when she needs it.

Hand Update and Spoilt Rotten

Mary's hand started hurting her again on Monday, so I bundled her into the car (in her robe with a small blanket) to go see Dr Rivera. As soon as she got in the car, her hand quit hurting, but we went on anyway. They were so nice, considering I didn't have an appointment--but the line was busy every time I tried (it always is on Monday morning). The office was full but Dr R took Mary almost immediately.

Well, it was the cyst--I knew it. At first, Dr R said it would have to be operated on, then she said to continue the heat (15 minutes at a time, 3 times a day) for another week and see if it went down. If not, to call her and she'd give us the name of a hand surgeon. She gave Mary a prescription for some hydrocodone. She said that was a narcotic, but it seems to also be a type of ibuprofen. She said to use it only if the Aleve doesn't work. Just used it once or twice. Sure enough, the cyst went down the first or second day! Argh! I've been putting heat on it and it wouldn't go down before!

Anyway, her hand hasn't hurt her so intensely, so I'm happy.

Did I mention that Mary's really getting to be a sourpuss when Bonnie comes to relieve me? Boy, I hope she gets over that. Mom said to just ignore it.

I'm feeling really guilty about dragging Mary to St Louis. Should I? I mean, is that trip really so rough on her? I think it'll be ok with Mom along. And I hope (against hope) that Fred will come, too.

Gotta go get Mary up!

Hard Day's Night

Boy, last night was a hard one. And this morning doesn't seem any better. I just keep messing up and then Mary suffers the consequences. Well, and when Mary suffers, so do I.

I didn't tend to her cyst properly, so Wednesday night she began to be in pain from it--her thumb and first two fingers felt like they were falling asleep and then they actually began hurting her. I gave her two baby aspirin. Nothing. An hour later and ibuprofen. Nothing. An hour later a Darvocet. Nothing. I was alternating heat and cold, rubbing it with peppermint oil and aspercream. Nothing. After about four hours, it stopped. I kept offering to take her to the hospital--because I was at my wit's end--but she didn't want to go. And I have to say I am totally embarrassed about my behavior. I was so frustrated. I didn't know what to do. And she couldn't remember what I'd told her or that she'd told me it hurt. To constantly hear the same complaints and questions and give the same information...it was driving me crazy. Plus, there was the guilt that I hadn't been tending to the cyst...

Thursday morning (Thanksgiving Day) it started again. I got her all ready to go to the hospital, but she had to use the potty first. Afterwards, she suddenly felt better. Go figure. I turned on the Parade and she watched it quite intently and everything was fine. For her, but I was a wreck. I'd gotten up extra early to start the rolls and had a pumpkin pie to bake as well as some other smaller things I said I'd bring to Mom's. The pie had half an hour to go when she started complaining and my roll dough desperately needed to be worked on. So I had a major heart attack and then...nothing, everything was fine. Not that I blame her. I was glad. I was overjoyed. I don't want her to be in pain. Well, we eventually got over to Mom's, but it was much, much later than I’d intended. Mom ended up getting so looped that she couldn’t see straight and some of the dinner didn’t turn out right, because she wasn’t with it enough to tell us how to finish it. That was a major disappointment because, well, that’s what the holiday is all about–the dinner! Also, Mom was so sick, she couldn’t eat, and that was a crying shame. Plus, she was really embarrassed. Oh, well.

Fritz and Robin brought a puppy with them–it looks just exactly like a miniature version of Fred’s Australian Shepherd Chips. The puppy (Haas) has blue eyes just like Chips, too. And an adorable personality. A little shy but quite docile and wanting to please. He sat on Mary’s lap a long time and I half hoped she’d take it home as Robin wanted to get rid of it. (They’ve got numerous animals at home, who all spend their days locked in cages in the basement.) She ended up leaving the puppy with Mom and let me tell you, Mom is tickled. She has a new light in her life. I thought Dad would ignore Simba but the puppy seems to adore Simba and gives him tons of attention–much to Simba’s chagrin! So everything seems to have worked out well there. Well, except that Mom is constantly afraid that the puppy with jump into her big pond (if he doesn’t slip through the fence and escape) and so has to watch him like a hawk.

Ok, so the next day Mary was alright. No problems. Saturday we were supposed to go visit Angie. (It turns out that she did have a little stroke while she was here, but she's alright now.) However, Mary was so tired, she went back to bed at noon. She had a big bowel movement first, and I think she hadn’t had one on Friday, so that may have been the cause of the fatigue.

Yesterday started out bizarre with Mary getting heart burn almost as soon as we got up–at around 10:30. She just had almost a whole piece of cake. I talked to a friend from Lexington, and she seemed...well, I felt like she thought I was neglecting her. We watched All About Eve because I have to get it back to the library. Well, I watched it. Mary slept through most of it. When it was finished, her hand suddenly started hurting. I hadn’t been attending to it properly! I had taken the wrap off to put heat on it this morning and then forgotten to put it back on. Well, she was in such pain, that she was sweating, so we decided to go to the hospital. I got her in the car and suddenly it was ok. Boy, was I happy to hear that! So I gathered some books I had to return to the library and a cake I wanted to give to Mom (a strange Smearcase Cake recipe I’d wanted to try out since the aunts are always talking about Smearcase and it sounded like it might be close to the Cheese Kuchen we got at Patterson’s Bakery growing up–oh, how I’d give my eye teeth to find out what happened to those recipes). When we stopped at Mom’s, she asked if we’d like to come in and Mary readily, surprisingly, agreed. So we had dinner with Mom and Dad. I was so glad not to have to cook!

We stopped at Walgreens on the way home and I got some Aleve, which my sister-in-law Jan said was the best OTC anti-inflammatory as well as a self-adhering ace bandage, since we have so many problems with her ace bandage (it’s too long and the metal clips keep coming off). When we got home, Mary didn’t want to go to sleep. Of course not, she’d slept all day! After she was in bed a bit, about two seconds after she’d been snoring, she called out my name. Quite softly. If I hadn’t still been awake, I don’t think I’d have heard it. She had that pain in her stomach. Of course, I’d missed her Protonix pill that day! Argh! So I gave her a piece of cheese and lay down next to her while she ate. She enjoyed the cheese immensely. It tasted really good to her. Eventually, she started to snore, so I got up. About an hour later, she had heart burn. I gave her some Mylanta and everything seemed alright. A few hours later, she had heart burn again. I gave her more Mylanta and her Protonix pill. I lay down beside her till she started snoring and adjusted her bed so that she was sitting up more before heading back to my own bed. This morning she was so shaky she could barely make it to the bathroom or wipe herself. She had diarrhea quite badly, so I gave her some Immodium.
That poor baby, she’s had so many drugs poured into her. But I’ve made a major attitude adjustment, so at least she’s getting lots of "tea and sympathy." She said yesterday that she didn’t want to "be this way." In other words, she felt like she was being a pain by being in so much pain. Ridiculous!

She has more and more problems not know where she is in the night or even in the morning. Even if she seems to understand that this is her house on McDeane, she still wants to go home to her sisters and brother. She can’t explain what she means. She doesn’t mean heaven. This drives me crazy because it’s so incomprehensible. So outside of reality. The night before last she was lying in bed moaning and when I went in, she said she thought she was going crazy. She couldn’t explain why or how. I crawled in bed next to her and she eventually calmed down and went to sleep. I keep joking with her that she puts out so much heat, she out to get hooked up with the electric company! I think it’s cute that she likes it when I get in bed with her. Unfortunately, her bed is far too small for two people. Her snoring always sends me back to my own bed anyway.

Well, it’s getting late. I need to get her up. Oh, another big mistake of mine–I didn’t order her Forteo refill in time. I could have sworn that the lady at Caremark had told me that I didn’t have to call in a refill. I remember asking and being so surprised and relieved that I didn’t have to call. But I wasn’t sure, so I had been intending to call for at least a week or two. But I always put it off. It was too early, I had to get Mary up and then...I just forgot. I wrote it on the fridge...didn’t help. I didn’t want to call. Why? Why am I like that? So I put it off till it was too late. I used the injection pen two or three days longer than I was supposed to, but I’m afraid to continue. It looks like it still has medicine in it, but they’re so adamant about throwing it away after 30 days... Well, the next shipment is supposed to come tomorrow. Surely it won’t hurt her too much to skip a day or two.

And one more thing...I promised Gina that we’d come the first weekend in December. I know she is really looking forward to it, and so are Mom and I, but Mary is really refusing to go. And I understand completely. I don’t really want to take her. I feel horrible about taking her. I know she wants to stay home. She was carrying on this morning about not going anywhere again–since she didn’t think she was at home. But isn’t it good for her to go and do things? I know she enjoys parts of it. If she never goes out anymore, what’s the use of continuing to live? Sometimes I’m afraid that Mary will never want to give up living. I worry about how to get her teeth brushed when she shakes so much that she can’t hold the brush. How to get her on the potty when she can’t get up. I can do it a little while, but I’d break my back doing it constantly. How to deal with it if she can’t remember who I am.

Angie

Angie was here yesterday. Mary and I went to get her so she could watch a Jeannette MacDonald (Love Me Tonight, 1932) movie with us. Then we made chicken pot pie. It was funny how much things have changed since a year ago. I generally feel so much more relaxed, don't lose my cool as quickly. Ange wanted to stay out of the cooking (I know, I've made it quite clear before that her way is not my way), and I wanted her to tell me what to do. I've never made chicken pot pie, but I admit that I have my ideas about how it should turn out based on my mom's. Well, I knew Angie's would be different, but I really wanted to do it her way. I told her that I knew I'd had a different attitude in the past but that I was trying not to be so close-minded and maybe I might learn something.

After dinner I asked Angie to let us know when she wanted to go home, and she said anytime but to go ahead and give Mary her cup of coffee (which she always has after dinner). I made Mary's coffee and offered her a cinnamon treat (you know, made with pie dough). Then I turned to offer Angie one and she was sitting with her head slumped. At first, I thought she'd gone to sleep but then I saw her eyes were still open and I thought she was dead. I kept asking her, "Angie, Angie, are you alright? What's wrong?" Her head rolled a bit, so I knew she was still alive. She tried to speak but couldn't and her eyes were all glazed over looking. I was freaking out, as you can imagine. I guess I should have just called 911 right then. But you always wonder if it's enough of an emergency. How stupid! Next time I'll just call. Anyway, I thought she must have had a stroke or heat attack and got a baby aspirin. She was trying to talk but couldn't move her lips. I tried to get the pill in her mought but couldn't. I kept trying to get her to talk to me--to keep her conscious. She seemed to get better and managed to swallow the pill--quite surprising since she swears she can't take pills. She got better and better in a matter of seconds. She was really hot and was sweating profusely. I couldn't find the phone. I told her I'd call her daughter Patty. I called Mom instead. She didn't know what to do either and said to call Pat, which I did. She said she'd be over. It seemed to take forever for her to get there. By that time, Angie seemed fine but she said she was very weak, especially on the left side. I could tell that Pat wasn't taking it seriously. She tried to blame everything going dark on Angie's macular degeneration--give me a break! She said she'd had a lot of spells lately. But Ange said she'd never experienced this. Pat left it up to Angie whether she should go to the hospital. Ange had thought Pat would have called her doctor at home, but Pat had no intention of doing such a thing. Angie said she wanted to go to the hospital--because if it was a strok or heart attack they always say you can help the person a lot by treating them within 3 hours. Pat agreed to but I just wonder whether she and her husband Bud didn't talk Angie out of it when they got her in the car. We called Angie's house last night but no one answered. We'll see today what happened. Angie said that things had been getting dark since she'd come into the living room and started eating her dinner. She never said a word and laughed at the program and talked with us. Maybe it was just her blood pressure. Mom joked that it was the shock of my wanting her advice on cooking that did it to her.

Humor

Mary's sense of humor never ceases to amaze me. She makes plays on words and laughs at lots of things. How is that possible when a sense of humor is supposed to be a sign of intelligence and she is so obviously losing her mental capacities? Well, I guess it's not a sign of a certain level of intelligence.

She seems to be more and more tired and shaky. I try to remember to exercise with her but it's not easy btwn her sleeping and my doing stuff (and I never thought there'd be so much stuff to do).

Teeth

Mary had to get two teeth worked on yesterday. Her lip's still a bit swollen today. Actually, her dentist always calls the day after he works on you and he didn't call today, so I'm a bit concerned. If it's still swollen tomorrow, I'll call him.

I really like her dentist, but I have this deep-seated mistrust of dentists. I mean, if they don't do any work on your teeth, then how are they going to make any money?

Broker Angst

Mary's broker (or is he called a financial advisor or what?) called last week and he's coming by this morning. He left Edward Jones and is now with a company called AG Edwards. He said that Jones didn't charge clients fairly, according to what he thought, and had tried to make him recharge some clients (more), which he refused to do. He also said that he had a lot of overhead--had to pay for his own office rental and other costs, which he doesn't have to do now. Edwards has 700 offices around the world and has been in business since the 1800s, so I think they seem reliable. I looked at their website briefly. They say they're all about what's best for the client. I am going to stay with our broker, but I'm sure Mary will lose money in transferring it. Argh! What a mess. But George has been so nice to me and really taken a personal interest in my situation. I loved the way that he explained everything he was doing and advising Mary to do. He can answer my questions so that I understand what he's talking about. I'm sure it all comes down to the money he's making on Mary, but I feel like I like him as a person and trust his judgement. But I'm praying anyway that I'm not making a mistake.

It's interesting that he's also Mom's broker but he hasn't called her. Of course, she has very little money. But it is a bit rude of him. But, then, I'm sure he's been very busy. O je!

Tom and Ange

Tom and Angie came over today. Ange let me know that Anna had wanted them to come over and have some salmon croquettes that she'd made but that they'd said they'd promised Mary to come today and so they'd go to Anna's tomorrow. I guess Anna still hates me. She's still never called the house.

I'm so glad they came to visit. Mary really loves to have visitors and especially to see her sisters and brother. And I think Angie needed the break from having Tom all to herself. She thinks he's a know-it-all! (Aren't we all?) Plus he never picks up after himself.

He kills me because he loves to tell these jokes he gets from Playboy magazines. How tactless! Or is it just like a brother?

It's quite funny that Angie and Anna seem to refuse to make his coffee for him the way he likes. As if they are convinced that they drink it the right way and he'll come round eventually. He drinks instant like they do, but he prefers it strong and COLD. They insist that he drink it weak (like they do) and HOT. I get the impression he almost likes coming here because I make his coffee the way he likes it.

At least Ange was in a good mood. I think Tom does keep her laughing--as well as gnashing her teeth!

Pause

For the first time since I can remember (somewhere back in my teenage years) I am actually paying attention to the TV schedule and know which shows are on which nights. It's sad, I know. (At least I usually exercise while watching, so it's not a complete waste.) Well, on Friday and Saturday nights and here and there on other nights there is usually nothing that interests me, so I've started checking out videos and DVDs from the library. One of my brothers gave me his DVD player on my birthday (alas, not the remote control, though--not that I'm lazy but it's much easier to understand than the actual machine, oddly enough), so I've been using it a lot. One night Mary and I were watching something and I had to get up for some reason, so I put what we were watching on pause. I think I was in the kitchen when Mary called to me, "I wish you'd come in here and see this." I went in wondering what in the world it could be. "What is it?" I asked. "Look at this. It hasn't moved for five minutes, " she said with a mixtur of concern, consternation and I'm certain a sort of pride that she had caught something special happening. I simply rolled laughing. She'd never heard of being able to pause a video or DVD. She's so cute!

Shower

The other day I was getting Mary ready to hop in the shower and she said, "Why do I have to take a bath and nobody else does?" It was so cute! I told her that I'd had a shower the day before and she hadn't had one for several days and she was starting to stink. She knows I'm joking. The shower is not one of my favorite activities. I hate getting wet. Now that it's colder, I have to make sure it's warm enough for her, so I put the space heater in the bathroom and then move it to the bedroom before she gets out. She's gotten so that she really doesn't remember what she's washed or whether she's washing or rinsing something. And she doens't always make good decisions, so she gets soap in her eyes a lot. I have to watch her like a hawk, not losing myself in thought for a second. There's also the constant fear that she's going to fall. I hate that shower. It's so tiny. The hose got a hole in it, so I had to replace it and this one doesn't fit into the holder properly, although it is longer. So now I can't tilt the head down at all, which she doesn't understand. She always likes the shower once she's in there. The warmth feels good. She also likes me washing her hair. I especially hate the petromleum jelly afterwards. It gets all over her clothes. But it does keep her skin nice.

Time to give her her shot and get her up.

Finances

I am mortified--I overdrew on Mary's account! How did I manage to do that? Argh! I'm so irresponsible. I can't handle taking care of myself and someone else to boot! I'm such a bad person! There were my new tires and then my three fillings... plus, her social security check still goes into the other account and I need to go downtown and ask them to switch it over, but they'll want to know why and I'll feel so like a traitor to Angie even though the lawyer and the financial advisor told me to do it and what if they decide they don't want to make me her representative??? I'm so afraid of possible negative outcomes that I never even try. That's the story of my life! Plus, her insurance payment needs to be transferred but I was supposed to send them a copy of the Power of Attorney papers, but when he redid the will, I can't understand where the PoA part is and he took my old PoA pappers. So why didn't I ask him? Scared. And I need to call and get Mary's will redone because of the problems with Chris but I'm not sure who to name as my back-up, so I do nothing even though having Chris is worse than having anyone else (for the most part). Scared. Paralyzed by fears. Look where that gets you--overdrawn. Now I'm embarrassed to go into the bank and transfer money from her Money Market, which I should do every few months anyway. I'm so afraid of using up her money! But I know I won't... Thank goodness I have access to her account online! I've also got papers I need to send back to the financial advisor, but I keep forgetting. I need to photocopy them, but I don't want to leave them lying around, so I'll remember b/c I might forget them anyway. I'm so forgetful. Is that normal? Am I normal? I feel so incompetent. I never get anything done. It takes months to get the simplest tasks accomplished. I have things written everywhere that I need to get done, but they're always getting pushed out of the way by other things. People like Bonnie would just get them done. I'll never be fit to work anywhere for anyone. I'm so incompetent. I'm so inefficient. I walk around with this weight inside me all the time and it keeps me from getting anything done. I feel like I swallowed the albatross and he was made of iron.

I took Mary to Red Lobster to have lunch with Tom and Angie yesterday. When it came time to get up, she suddenly got her pitiful, "I'm going to die soon" voice and said she wouldn't be able to go. How did I get her up? I can't remember. I think I left the room and when I came back I opened some of her blinds and told her she could at least get up and sleep in her chair. Get a cup of hot coffee. That gets her almost every time. She's not drinking her coffee like she used to, though, which worries me. She falls asleep and forgets it. She sleeps far too much. Is it just b/c she so old? Should I do more physical activities with her? Should I entertain her more? Anyway, she got up but when it came time to get dresses, she said she couldn't go and got all sorry for herself again. I told her that she'd have to call Angie and tell her, but she said she didn't have the energy to do that, so we ended up having to go. It helped that she got to wear her new black top, which when I pointed it out to Angie, she denied knowing was new! Why did she do that?! Well, the food was alright. Tried to order something not too fattening. Tom had a problem with his eye and it had puss coming out of it the whole time--he sat across from me--so I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Angie needs to have her hearing aid adjusted, so she didn't hear a word that anyone said the whole time. After she ate (leaving this pile of potato skins with absolutely no scrap of potato on them--and I thought she cleaned her bones well!), she suddenly started feeling awful, but she wouldn't tell us how--couldn't hear us asking, I guess. I coudnt' believe that Angie paid the check and Tom paid tip. Should I have offered to pay for something? I would have had to pay from my own money. Which is sort of like Mary's money, anyway. Angie said it was time for her to pay. It's true that I've paid for her several times through Mary. One of her grandkids told her a few weeks ago that she was stingy and it really cut her to the quick. (Tom told her that months ago--and I concurred, but that didn't bother her as much for some reason.) Well, I was glad to see her spending a bit of money like that. She is rather tight-fisted, but I have no idea how much she has. Well, they went home and Mary and I went to the mall to find her a new pair of slippers/shoes. (She'd fallen on the stairs getting out to the car b/c these are so slippery. Pretty but treacherous. Luckily, she didn't hurt herself.) I stupidly promised that we'd go over to Angie's afterwards. Aftr several hours of trying on almost every slipper in the joint, we settled on a type that fit and got two pairs. I really wanted something dark that we wouldn't have to wash all the time and I wanted two pairs so that when we did wash them, she wouldn't have to borrow mine. I also wanted something like a bootie b/c the one she has now comes off so easily. I tend to step on her heels b/c she walks so slowly and stops erratically. Luckily, Angie didn't mind us begging off. She understood that Mary was tired (although Mary wasn't as tired as I was). We'll have to call Ange. She still felt sick yesterday evening. Personally, I think it was eating fried fish that did it to her.

Never heard a word from Fred, even though I cooked him all kinds of food, so I ate two pieces of his pumpkin pie. Why am I craving pumpkin pie? Do I need vitamin A? Mary has enjoyed it, too. She didn't remember having had any--even though we've already polished off one other pie! And she had several pieces of it. Or did I eat more than I thought? Well, there are worse things to pig out on.

The bulbs I need to plan are piling up. The ground was so hard the other day. I'm intimidated. Oh, I wanted to stop and get some compost from the city yesterday. They were selling it out by the mall. But we spent too much time shopping. We'll have to go next Saturday. I can use to cover up some of the roses and put an extra layer over the bulbs that I didn't plant deeply enough. I'd hate to spend so much money and then have them flop. Mary's going to enjoy them so much! I cut some roses from Mom's garden and Mary has enjoyed them so much, I think I'll have to slip them and put them out front under my window. Hot pink, hot orange and bright red. It will save us the money of ordering them and I won't have to dig a 2' by 2' hole for each one! Now I just have to find out again how to do that. I couldn't find any info on slipping roses on the internet. There was info about rooting roses, but no one mentioned how many eyes up and how many eyes down and that's always been stressed to me as an important factor.

I've heard Mary sigh a few times. I'll go see if she's up. We're going to have buckwheat pancakes with homemade blackberry jelly on them. That ought to get her in a good mood!

Lighter and Darker Sides

Something strange happened today. I took Mary to the potty and ran to use the bathroom myself. When I came back, she was acting strange. She said she couldn't hold her head up and her speech go increasingly slurred. I wet a wash cloth with cold water but she couldn't even wipe her face, so I did it. She seemed like she was going to pass out, and all I could think was that I had to get her in her bed (or maybe even call an ambulance) and she'd just had a BM and hadn't wiped yet! Then it occured to me that I hadn't given her her pills yet. In fact, I hadn't given her her potassium in two days since I ran out before I could get more. (I had ordered a refill over the phone but somehow it didn't go through and I didn't realize until too late.) So I ran and put her teaspoon of potassium in some juice and gave it to her. By the time she'd finished drinking it, she was better. Was it the potassium? I thought she'd had a stroke. What was it?

I got her cleaned up and put her in her chair and wheeled her into her room where I put her to bed, sitting up, and gave her a cookie and then the rest of her pills. (I think she's not supposed to lie down after taking some of her pills.) She was fine. Great, in fact. I read to her and after a while she got up and went back out onto the back porch. Had she maybe been too hot? It does get hot out on the back porch.

On a lighter side... last night I saw Mary studying the white board with everyone's telephone numbers. Suddenly she said, "Well, everyone's on there but me!" I explained to her that those were the numbers she might want to call, so that's why she wouldn't be on there. That didn't seem to make sense to her and she remained upset. I finally told her I could put hers on there, but she said no and then forgot about it.

Now on a darker side... I went to pick up Mary's prescription for Cilostazol and the pharmacist started asking me about whether she'd ever had congestive heart failure because she takes Coreg, which is for chf patients and Cilostazol is dangerous for those who've had a level 3 or 4 chf. Well, to be honest, about 3 or 4 years ago when Mary was in the hospital for a hip operation (I think that's what it was), they did say she had had chf. Howerver, I think it was their fault because her catheter (sp?) wasn't draining properly and I told them that, but they ignored me and then her organs got backed up, which caused her chf. So it wasn't a condition she would have otherwise have had. Also, she kept having chest pains and they couldn't decide if it was her heart or her stomach (indigestion), so they put her on medicine for both things. Ever since that, whenever she's had chest pain, I give her Mylanta and maybe something with carbonation, she belches and then she feels better. So I don't think she has heart problems, so I let her take the Cilostazol. Well, the pharmacist said to talk to Dr R about it. When I told him that I had already told Dr R that she was taking this new medication, he made a comment that he and another pharmacist (who has much more experience) don't care much for Dr R. I'd just come from having to replace all four of my tires and a few days ago I found out I have several cavaties that need to be filled. I tel you, I just felt like my world was crashing down around me. I'll call Dr R tomorrow and ask her about it. What should I do? Mom says she trusts Dr R and never had any problems with her. But I haven't been very satisfied with my Prevacid/Zantac situation. (Both of them made me feel worse than ever.) I seriously feel that Mary could leave off half of her medication and not have any problems, but they leave her on them since she's doing ok. Should I be satisfied with that? Why mess with success? But I will talk to her about the Cilostazol. I would also like to know what level her chf was. This is all giving me a headache!

In addition to all this, I'm started to wonder if I don't really have a problem with depression. Even if it's a low-grade depression. I feel constantly hindered by a lack of something--interest, enthusiasm, energy--to do even the simplest tasks. Yet I don't want to take something and have annoying side effects. And I can't really afford any medication. Plus, I don't feel confident about talking to Dr R about being depressed. Like she would think less of me or not believe me. I also think it's a genetic thing, not just my situation. I think I've been suffering from it for a long time and just didn't realize it.

Poo Poo the Moon

I put Mary to bed and when I left she called out to me, "Thank you, honey, for everything you've done for me." Argh! That kills me when she says that! Man, she really know how to get to a person. Well, she wasn't married three times for nothing. I always answer her, "Well, thank you for everything you've done for me." I told her that she keeps me from being lonely and that was worth a lot. She'll always answer, "Well..." I guess she doesn't know what else to say :-)

I went into her room to show her the moon because it's going to be full soon. As she sat up to look at it, she farted. I said, "Well!" and she said, "Poot, poot. Poo poo the moon." She's so cute!

This moring I was feeling so worthless. I read her an article from "Guideposts" last night about a granddaughter who put her grandmother in an assisted living place because she had alzheimer's. I don't know anyone else who has made the decision that I have made. Am I stupid? Lazy? How could I chose to stay with Mary instead of persuing a career? Or even a life? I still feel like I dont' have a job. That makes me feel worthless according to my society's standards.

The Zoo

I told Mary last week that we were going to the zoo. They got a new exhibit (Lorikeets from Australian that land on you and you give them nectar) that I'd love for her to see. I decided not to go because it was too late and too expensive. Then out of the blue the other day she suddenly said, "Aren't we supposed to go to the zoo?" I nearly fell out of my chair! So I told her we'll go when it gets a bit cooler. It's in the upper 80's every day this week and that's too hot for her. I just need to decide whether to go on a weekday or a weekend (so she can see the kids). But it is expensive--$10.95! ($2 off for seniors)

I think a mosquito bit her neck while we were out on the swing the other day. She had a dark blue bruise about the size of a quarter. The next day the redness was paler but it had spread. Today it's almost gone but itchy. I hope she's ok. Am I a worry wart?

Verbal Diarrhea

Mom asked me the other day if I’d go with her to Macy’s to get some new shoes (for my nephew’s wedding). She wanted me to go when Bonnie came but, to be honest, I knew that would mean I wouldn’t get to go to the gym, so I asked her if we could go the next day and take Mary. We both agreed that it would be good for Mary to get out, so we went yesterday.
Boy, Mary was in no mood to go out, let me tell you! She was being as stinky as she could–even though I put one of her favorite tops on her and a necklace and some rings. She said she was just so sleepy. This worries me a bit because she’s laid down to take two naps this past week. Is she just getting older? Is she not sleeping well at night? Is she ill?

Well, as Mary said, she has to do what I tell her! So she came along. Once we got in the car, she was better. I mean, she does really like going out. I wish we’d gone to the fancy part of town, b/c that’s her "old stomping ground" (as she calls it). We went to the store that was closer. Their selection of shoes on sale wasn’t very good. I bet they would have been better at the other store. Mom didn’t think so.

Unfortunately, Mom didn’t find any to go with her dress, but she did find a really nice comfortable pair of sandals. I caught sight of these slip on, loafer-style swede shoes. They weren’t on sale. Liz Claiborne. I got a pair. I hope they’ll last me the rest of my life! They’re beautiful. I also (God help me) opened an account with them so that I could get a 20% discount.
When I was finished, I joined Mom (and Mary, who didn’t seem to be too present to the situation) in the kitchen-wares section. We ended up getting a 10-piece pots and pans collection (all-metal, no Teflon) for Shawn and Amanda. I hope they use them and aren’t afraid since they aren’t Teflon-coated. I’ll have to be sure to write them a note about baking soda and vinegar.
Using my new card, we got 30% off! I wanted so badly to get some other kitchen equipment, but couldn’t find anything we really needed–their selection wasn’t so great. (I’d really like to get a huge silicone mat like Mom has for rolling out dough on. That’s probably the thing I like least about Mary’s house–no kitchen table to work on. Oh, well. It’s probably for the best–keeps me form baking even more!) Oh, I also got a Wilson cookie press for Gina. I’m so excited! She bought one a few years ago but it was broken. She couldn’t take it back b/c she’s lost the receipt or didn’t know where she’d gotten it or something. I always take mine when I go to make Xmas cookies and was determined to give it to her last year but couldn’t bring myself to do it. It’s something that the boys can use and get into. Cookie press cookies were a big deal during our Xmas cookie making when we were kids.

On our way out of the store (ahem), I ended up getting Mary two shirts–a black one with fold-down collar and ¾ length sleeves, and lime/pea green one with a round neck and long sleeves. The other day when I put my black t-shirt on, she mustered me really well and I knew what she was thinking when out came, "Do I have a black shirt like that?" She loves black, but, as I told her, I didn’t like her in black. I like her in colors. Well, needless to say, she is absolutely tickled pink with her new tops! I showed them to her several times yesterday evening and she just carried on and carried on about them. Who would think a 94-year-old would still be interested in new clothes?!

Oh, I also got a pretty wrap-around skirt that was on clearance. It has a black background and delicate largish roses and irises on it. The material is sort of like veiling or scarf material and it has a black lining. Size 10 and it fits! That’s the problem–I’m size 10 around my waist but size 20 around my hips! Anyway, the shoes were size 6 ½ and I wear size 7, so those expensive things are always the wrong size–I guess it makes those who can afford them feel better.
As usual, spending money makes me feel ill.
The kitty is trying to get into my lap.

After much soul-searching, I still couldn’t decide whether to donate some money to the Red Cross for Mary for the Katrina Relief Fund. I finally asked her again last night what she thought about giving some and reminded her that I’d given $50. She surprised me by saying that if I’d given $50, then surely she could give at least that much. Maybe Angie’s trying to make us feel bad for getting new clothes when all those people don’t have any clothes anymore actually sank in. Plus, she reads about it every day in the paper and sees about it on the TV. So she’s more with it than a lot of people think. Well, while I was at it, I also went to the Noah’s Wish website and donated $50 for Mary. I believe she would like to help the animals. Now if there’s a story on TV about it, I can tell her that she gave them money and it will make her feel good. Mary never did give to any charity that I know of–other than her church and now she feels deserted by them. I like to try to give something b/c it’s a reminder to myself that no matter how little I have, there are those who have less. However, I was hesitant to spend Mary’s money b/c then is she one day doesn’t have any, I’ll look back and feel guilty. But I do think she can afford it.
Mary seems to have really gotten used to the Forteo shots, btw. I’m so glad. I hated arguing with her every morning and having her be stinky. It’s not like I enjoy giving her the shot!
Did I mention that the roof has a leak? I called one company in to check it. They said $650 to repair it. I guess I’ll have to end up getting a new roof put on. I need to call two other companies and get their estimates and the insurance company to see if they’ll pay for any of it. I hate taking care of things like that! I guess I’m just so worried about getting screwed.

I also need to get Mary (and myself) to the dentist. And a thousand other things: straighten up and organize the basement, get the ceiling fan put in on the back porch, get the refund for the electric mower (remind me to tell you what I like and dislike about it), make those cinnamon rolls I’ve been promising Mary for ages, unpack my books... and eventually I think I’ll need to get a new linoleum floor in the kitchen. Gerard and Kenny did it and they did the worst job possible. Oh, if I’d been here at that time, heads would have rolled! Disgraceful! It’s pulling away from the wall and getting small tears in it here and there. And what they put on the steps leading to the garage is coming up, which is very dangerous. Oh, I also need to see about taking Mary to the podiatrist again. And I’d like to do some more landscaping in the yard and order some bulbs for next spring. I’d like to put tulips between the roses. I wonder if that’s a good idea.

But it doesn’t seem to matter what I have to or want to do–I feel like I’m constantly in a straight jacket. Mom said she does, too, and she thinks it’s normal, but I don’t. I think it’s depression and that it runs in my family. And that it’s also from the stress of being a caregiver. But I don’t have the nerve to talk to my doctor about it. Help!

Nap

Mary is lying down, taking a nap. I'm in shock. She hasn't done this for about four years. I hope she's ok!

I tried to give her the first Forteo shot today. Apparently, I didn't press down on the button at the end of the shot-pen and so didn't give her a full dose. Great. Well, I'm sure I'll get it right tomorrow. I really hate to give her a shot every day--almost as much as she hates to get it, but this is such a good drug. I hope it doesn't leave little red dots all over her stomach. I had to give her shots for something before and it left little red dots. The place where I stuck her kept bleeding for quite a while. I just had her finally hold the piece of alcohol-soaked cotton on it. Wouldn't you know that I got a migraine sometime last night? So I felt like shit this morning and it was so hard to concentrate to try to get it all straight. I mean, it's not that difficult, but they include so much other information in the directions, it's difficult to sift through it all.

I told Mary yesterday that I had given $50 to the Red Cross for the Hurricane Relief Fund and asked if she wanted to give anything. She said ok, looking rather pained at having her hand forced in this way. I asked her how much she wanted to give and she said, "Oh, three or four dollars."

Have I told you about the hair brush? I bought a bristle boar hairbrush for myself--very selfish of me. I used Mary's card but intended to pay her back. Well, I couldn't get the damned thing through my hair, which is too thick. So I used it on Mary one day. She fell in love. Every time I use it, she says, "That feels so good!" For a long time she asked me where I got and often said that she'd have to get one. I think she finally got the message that this one was hers. Sometimes she even remembers where I got it. When I get it out, she says, "I like that brush!" A few times I've just kept brushing, to see how long she'd let me. I finally had to stop because she seemed to be falling asleep! I think she'd let me do it for hours! It really is a good brush for her hair, anyway--it makes her hair stay really flat against her head and makes it very shiny. I imagine it does feel good. I'm quite jealous--I wish I had someone to brush my hair!

My birthday was on the 29th of August. Instead of a gift, I asked that Mom and Mary go to the art museum to see an impressionist exhibit and have a bite to eat at the cafe there, so that's what we did on the Saturday before. It was so crowded! Bad day, but I was glad to see so many people there. (I think everyone thought it was going to rain, which it didn't do.) Mom seemed to enjoy the exhibit even more than I did, which was probably the best present of all. I was so busy maneuvering Mary around the other visitors, that I couldn't really enjoy myself. Plus, at the end Mary got tired of sitting (I forgot her seat cushion, or tushy-cushy, as I call it), so we had to run. It was interesting that Mom, as a former dabbler in art, saw things that I would never have seen. I wondered if it was as painful for her as going to a voice recital would have been for me. I don't know what Mary got out of it. I don't think much. She seemed to enjoy the room with the vases/glass sculptures more. Maybe she enjoys more practical things or more three-dimensional things. The cafe was like a box or closet and I was glad to get out. They had the room painted maroon and there were no windows. Ugh! The fish was good but the rest wasn't. At least Mom and Mary were pleased with it all, so I shouldn't be so critical. Do I distinguish what I like from what I dislike so that I can enjoy what I like more? Or do I just look for something to be disgruntled about?

Well, Mary half hour is up. I don't think she went to sleep. Will she want to get up?

Kitty Baby

I've had this funny suspicion that the cat likes this red blanket that Mary often puts over her lap here int he living room. The cat was just sitting on the coffee table next to Mary's chair but seemed hesitant to get into her lap. I told her to put the red blanket over her lap and, sure enough, the cat got right on over onto her lap! Too funny.

I've quit using an alarm clock because the generally wakes me up around 6:30 or 7:00. She'll put her face really close to mine and purr really loudly. Today she actually touched her nose to my lip! She also kneads my arm or chest or walks across my chest (ouch!) or lays on my belly. She also pushes her head under my hand so that I have to pet her. That's actually the best way to wake me up!

Not to change the subject, but, is it just me or has anyone else noticed that the Arby's "hat" that appears above the guys' heads in their TV commercials looks an awful lot like a penis? Are they trying to subtly influence men so that when they think of their penis, they get hungry for Arby's? Hm. Mary doesn't see it. I think it's just been too long since she's seen a penis!

She sat outside today while I cut the grass in the front yard. It was about 85 out but she didn't seem to mind. I made some iced tea for us and made sure she had her sunglasses on. I like to get her outside when I can. I hate it that she lives her life (well, and so do I!) almost exclusively indoors. That seems so unnatural. Can I tellyou her yard is a major bitch to cut! It's almost all slopes, full of holes, mostly weeds, has several drains and bushes. I have a lot of work cut out for me next year because I need to kill all the growth around her shrubs and put mulch there. I decided this year not to spend the money, but I know it would look so much nicer and everyone else around here has such nice looking yards. I'd also like to make a 2-foot border around the back yard and eventually a 1-foot border around the patio with miniature roses. I'd also like to mulch these borders. And I'd like to plant some tulips and crocuses and grape hyacinths in-between the roses. Did I tell you that the guy from Champion said it would be about $3500 to put in new windows? I know Mary doesn't want to spend the money, but I also know that she would enjoy it so much. What do I do? She's lived with them the way they are for nine years. But she spends so much of her time next to them now. I should get rid of my car and get the windows. But isn't that screwing myself? I mean, I probably won't get this house, so I'm spending my own money for Aunt Anna. And I like my car better than Mary's in a lot of ways, even though her car is a much better-quality car. O je.

I think I'm getting over this funk I've been in for the last several months. I wrote myself a letter and made it clear to myself what I'm unhappy about and why and what I'd like from/for myself. I've been ensconced by such a lethargy. Funny how "lethargy" looks so much like "lethal." I've felt like every day was a struggle to get through, trying to get myself to do the housework, do the dishes, cook dinner, fix lunch or breakfast, give Mary a shower or take one myself, make sure we brushed our teeth even once a day, do the laundry, pay bills... I hope I've turned over a new leaf. Mary had showered, dressed and brushed her teeth by 10:30 this morning. But I'm so afraid I'll backslide. I also got off my diet and gained five pounds back. I've been eating like I'm trying to gain weight!

Well, Mary says she's tired, so we'll hit the hay.

New Medication

I took Mary to the hospital today to get training for a new medication. It's called Forteo, and I'll have to administer it to her by way of a shot every day for two years! However, after that she will supposedly have the bones of a 20-year-old! Mom said, "Oh, no! She'll live to be 200 now!" The thing is that we don't want Mary to live longer than her enjoyment of life. If her mind continues to go and she doesn't remember anything, then is she still Mary? She's already forgetting so many simple words. She can't remember names of simple flowers and birds. She can never remember what "that little bird" is--ie, hummingbird. (They come about every few minutes now.) I've noticed, too, that it's not much fun to read to her because she can't concentrate on what I'm reading and never knows (even if she looks like she's listening) what I've just read. (I can sort of understand because we're reading the fifth Harry Potter book and I don't find it so interesting either! In fact, everyone's angry and he's got a headache throughout the book--which makes me feel like I'm getting a migraine.) Also, if she reads something, she can't sum it up for me.

She did much better walking today. Maybe it was the Darvocet that I gave her after breakfast. She even managed (with just a little glitch getting into her chair at the end) to get up the stairs and back into the house when we got home.

I've been having her sit in the living room more. With it being in the 90's every day, I think it's just too hot on the back porch--even if she doesn't notice it. Someone came to give us an estimate to get the windows replaced with insulated double-paned glass: $3500! Whoa! Too much. I got a ceiling fan and hope the guy who put the handrail in will put the fan in, too.

We've gotten quite a few roses already and have really enjoyed them. I keep telling Mary, "This is from our garden," and she'll reply, "Oh, really? (How 'bout that!)"

I think she wants to get to bed. Me, too. I got up at 4:30 this morning.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how nice it would be to have a guy in my life. But that's pretty much impossible. Even having a friend is pretty impossible. Since I joined the gym, I haven't even been able to see Mom much. Speaking of which, I haven't been there regularly lately. No time after running other errands. And next Tuesday I actually have a doctor's appointment for myself.

Falls and Jinxes

I seem to have been hit by some great iceberg of inertia. Even as I’m typing this, every fiber of my being is shouting, "No! Don’t want to!" I could try to blame it on the trip to Gina’s, seeing as they are an hour behind us and I feel a definite sort of jet lag. But I think it had started before then. Maybe it was planting those roses. Sometimes I feel like digging those holes really shaved a bit off of my youth. That sounds ridiculous to actually come out and say, although Mom agrees. She thinks it can give you arthritis. Well, I’m wondering if she’s not right because I’ve woken many a time since I started that blasted digging with my hands aching. But, then, maybe I am just getting older and things just start hurting. Lots of times I’ll get up in the morning and my left heel with hurt so badly every time I take a step. Then it disappears at some point. Maybe I just sleep wrong or I tense up. I often wonder if that’s where my migraines come from. (They seem to be getting worse, by the way.) It’s really a bit funny because I’ve been absence into different ways to relax and let go f stress. And as if I’m in a stressful situation!

Ok, enough talking about me–as you an probably tell, I haven’t been writing in my diary (of course not–no desire or energy to do much of anything), so my personal stuff is spilling onto this blog. And I have to reiterate that my attitude towards my laptop has really changed since I had to redo the startup disk thingy. I should just pay to have it looked at, but, then, again, I feel so...unenthused. No, that’s not right. It’s not just a lack of enthusiasm but another layer of loathing to act on top of it. I guess I’ve been reading too much Harry Potter lately, but I feel as if someone has put several jinxes on me.

Now, really, enough talk about me. I should have written earlier. When we were in St Louis, Mary fell and hurt herself. She was getting ready to sit down in the rocking chair in the living room and so I’d let go and then she just suddenly keeled over to the left, away from me. I stood there and just watched her fall, as if in slow motion, with my brain screaming at me to catch her the whole time. Again, I felt like someone had put a spell on me. Then I let out this blood-curdling scream and everyone came running. We got her up and into a chair, but she was hurting badly. Chris came, very luckily, within a few hours and told us to put cold on her groin where it hurt in case there was swelling, to keep it down. He checked her later to see if she was bruised but I can’t remember what that would have told him. I think it would have meant that her hurting came from a more superficial problem, like a muscle tear. An absence of a bruise increased that likelihood that she’d broken something. (I’ve got to make this short as my back is hurting me.) We stayed a day longer to spend more time with Chris since he’s a nurse and when we got home I took her to see her doctor who x-rayed her and sent her to an orthopedic surgeon. He said it was a crack in the pelvis (thus the groin pain), not the hip and that it needed to heal by itself. That was such a relief! I just can’t tell you... Mary, meanwhile, only felt pain when she moved and didn’t even remember that she’d fallen! O je! I got her home and that evening she started complaining about her wrist hurting, which I poo-pooed. In the middle of the night, it was still hurting, so I started taking it seriously–there was a lump on the inside of her wrist. I dragged her to her doctor the next day again. She said it was a cist caused by trauma from her fall–i.e., she’d hit it on something–and I was to wrap it up and apply heat three times a day. And stop giving her pain meds round the clock b/c it was making her sleepy–just administer when she requested it, i.e., almost never.

Things have been going ok. Mary mostly doesn’t remember that she fell. I have only been letting her do transfers (from chair to potty to chair to bed, etc) but yesterday and today she’s done a wee bit of walking. She’ll be back to abnormal before we know it! But, seriously, I’m a bit concerned about taking her down any steps for a while. We’ll see.

Sometimes I a wave of hopelessness crash over me when she doesn’t know things. Sometimes in the evening now before she’s even gone to bed, she doesn’t remember that she’s in her own home. I’d feared that would happen with another trip. Mom says that’s not so bad because if something happens to me, Mary won’t know if she has to leave her home. I doubt that. Who knows? Would Mary be one of those zombies if she’d been sent to a nursing home?

It’s almost been a year since I started taking care of Mary full time. What have I achieved since then? I feel so...useless. A friend of mine said maybe I should be concentrating on who I’m becoming at this point in my life, not what I’m achieving. On NPR they are having this thing about what people believe. I find myself lately thinking more and more about what I’d like to believe. Sometimes I really do feel like a character trapped in a book that someone else is writing. And who am I becoming? A lazy person who doesn’t do the dishes every night, eats junk food, doesn’t give Mary baths regularly or make sure she brushes her teeth every day (much less me brushing my own or bathing regularly). I feel like I’m constantly searching for titillation, for something to awaken some desire or curiosity in me and then when I do find something, I latch onto it, whether for a few minutes or hours at a time or days, and get obsessed with it, with little thought for anything else. I’ve gotten frustrated with reading to Mary because she inevitably starts talking to the cat, who I think comes in at the sound of my voice, and so she doesn’t listen to me. She doesn’t remember what I’ve read anyway, but says she enjoys listening. Is it just because I am in some form giving her attention? And the cat...I feel myself becoming more and more attached to her and don’t want to. I miss her if she doesn’t sleep in my bed. I need to take her to the vet for her yearly check-up but can’t seem to force myself to do this. I need to make my own appointments for check-ups but don’t do it. I don’t even have the energy to make all the lists I usually waste all my time making.

Enough of this. I need to force Mary to sit on the potty. She hasn’t been for hours. She’s had a lot of problems with incontinence lately. And my fingers hurt. Isn’t that stupid?

Weather

I told Mary several times today that it was supposed to get up to 92 degrees. Once she replied, "Is today my birthday?!" Apparently, she thought I was telling her that she was going to be 92 today!

Days of Wine and Roses

Those roses are killing me! Why is it that we seem to have to make mistakes in order to learn something? Boy, did I make a couple of big ones! I knew roses were complicated, but I thought I was so clever... and yet I was being so stupid! I didn’t pay attention to how tall the roses would grow and it never occurred to me that they grew in quite a variety of sizes. Also, I didn’t think that they grew in a variety of widths. I’m also angry that this website didn’t list the widths for the roses. And, also, I didn’t pay attention to the different types of roses nor the order numbers. As a result, I ordered one "amazon" rose bush that’s going to grow anywhere from five to six feet tall and be four feet wide! Also, I ordered a shrub rose! Argh! That one will be four feet tall and three feet wide. I’d already started to dig my second hole along the fence, next to the Fischer’s garage. I knew that I should leave three feet between the holes, but I figured they’d be normal rose bushes and be about two and a half feet in width, so two feet between my two feet holes would be alright. Tight, but alright. Mom also poo-pooed the width recommendations, so I felt justified in not taking them seriously. When I realized how grave my mistakes may be, I checked the internet and then called the company. Oh, to add to my confusion (but luckily so because it prompted me to investigate things better), some of the tags were incorrect. So then I had a major crisis (and ate quite a few potato chips) about where I was going to plant what. To make matters worse, I couldn’t reach Mom! How could she do that to me?! I even called my sister Nikki, but she was at work and didn’t answer her cell phone. In the end, I decided I had to move my hole over, which was no mean feat. I’ll just put three roses next to the fence and put the shrub rose out in the side yard. I hate to do that because Mary won’t be able to see it, but maybe I can cut some of them and bring them in. I hope so, because they’ll be yellow and I know she loves that color. It makes me nervous to put the roses out there where God and everybody can see what I’m doing and if I’m doing it right. Well, maybe next year I can get into putting mulch around some things. O je. And I still have the evergreen bush to put in where the yard man never did it.

Speaking of which, the mower still hasn’t come. That’s alright because it hasn’t rained in so long, the grass isn’t growing much. Also, I’ve had my hands full. I really wanted to get Mary’s car checked before going to St Louis... Maybe I’ll just take mine. It’s harder for her to get in and out, but I feel safer driving it, I believe. I hate that I can’t see my blind spots because of the structure of the Cadillac. I feel safer driving my Taurus.

Oh, I was digging away today and trying to keep an eye on Mary, but I didn’t do a very good job. I looked up and she was gone out of her seat. I approached the back porch door with trepidation, expecting to see her lying on the floor. She wasn’t anywhere around. I went in and headed for the bathroom, expecting to see her lying on the floor at every turn. With a sigh of relief I found her in th bathroom. It was hard not to really chew her out, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Actually, I mostly felt guilty for not doing my job properly.

We’re almost done with the fourth HP book! How exciting!

Wassup

Life had just been flying by this summer. More so than the winter–hard to believe! Every day seems like the blink of an eye. We’re in a bad pattern of not getting to bed till eleven o’clock (oh, my) and then not getting up till nine or nine-thirty. I’ll have odd days where I’ll get up anywhere from six-thirty to eight-thirty, but I’m usually just so sleepy, I can’t drag myself out of bed and only get up because Mary’s in there talking to the cat, and I can’t possibly sleep any longer (plus, I know she’s awake, so it’s my duty to get up). I never let her sleep later than nine-thirty. Sometimes she wakes up earlier, but sometimes I think she’d sleep till... who knows? It’s a toss up–I don’t know whether to get her up earlier and then have her sleep on me all day or let her sleep later–and still have her sleep on me all day!

Yes, she’s been sleeping quite a lot lately. It could be that the back porch (where we practically live now since it has huge windows and two lazy boy recliners) is too warm. Occasionally she complains of being too hot, but mostly she doesn’t much notice the heat. I recently took her to the doctor because I was certain she had a UTI. He explained that Mary’‘s heart couldn’t function well enough to pump all the fluid through her body when she was sitting up, so she was retaining fluids during the day. Then when she peed after not going for six hours or so, it would be dark and cloudy. When she lays down, it’s easier for her heart to function since gravity isn’t working against it and so things get pumped through and all that retained fluid is processed into urine–resulting in her having to go every two hours. I’ve been trying to get her to go more often during the day, and as a result she goes maybe three times instead of four. Can you understand now why I can’t wake up in the morning? Oddly enough, I often wake up just before she starts ringing her bells. I don’t know whether she makes some other noise or whether I have developed a sixth sense, but she’s always amazed at how fast I appear in her room.
Mary’s also been super shaky lately. She always says, "Shaky Mary!" and I tell her I’m going to have that put on her tombstone. It sounds like a bank robber from the wild west days. I try to get her to breathe more when she’s walking or before she even gets up, but I get so tired of reminding her. Why can’t she just make it a habit? Sometimes she tells me she doesn’t think it works, so maybe that’s why she fights it. Other times, though, she’ll exclaim about how good that breathing is. She just probably can’t remember. I also get tired of reminding her to try to stand up straighter and look out, not down, when she walks. But I know that it’s so very important, and I try to use that occasion to remind myself. I tell her to walk like Queen Mary of the Scots and starts humming some music that sounds like royal walking music to me. I don’t know if it works, bur it keeps me entertained!

We got some rose bushes yesterday that I ordered from the internet (how I love being able to do that). I thought about it for so long that it’s now almost if not in actuality too late to plant them. I just couldn’t decided which colors, much less whether I should do it, since it’s so expensive. I wanted a red, a white, a yellow, another but prettier pink, and another peach/apricot/salmon. I finally decided to do it, but apparently that company had sold all of theirs in the colors I wanted, so then I had to search for another company. I finally found Heirloom Roses in Oklahoma. It took a whole lot of searching (soul and otherwise) to pick the colors I wanted and decide on, yes, five, not three. It was a bit over $100. If Mary knew, she’s have a major cow and probably disown me! Well, I’m paying the piper now, I’ll tell you. The directions say to dig a 2' by 2' hole–and I guess that means 2' deep, too. Well, it hasn’t really rained her for so long, that the ground was like rock. It took me all day and I felt like I was just going to keel over. Getting dinner last night was a major accomplishment, let me tell you! I’ve tried to water the ground that I’m going to dig today, so I hope and pray it will be better. I don’t even know if I can handle it today. But I need to get those other roses planted pretty soon. Mom was an angel and went and got some manure, peat moss and bone meal for me. However, I used the whole bag of manure, so I’ll have to get four more! I didn’t manage to dig 24", I must admit. The middle was 20" and the sides were more like 16". I planted the white first. It already has a bud on it, so we should get a rose soon. I’m so excited! I think if I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m looking for some mental stimulation, some challenge, and roses are supposed to be so difficult, that I thought they would make a good new hobby for me. Gardening in general, really. Since I’m not in school anymore, I’m thirsting for knowledge. It’s like some nourishment that I’ve always received and now I have to cook for myself. (The nice thing about sneezing in a chair that Mary has sat in, although this may be gross, is that you can always find a tissue or napkin stuck down in the cushions!) Oh, a big problem I have with the roses–what to do about the extra dirt that I’ve dug up and don’t put back?!

I guess I’ve been spending a lot of money lately. No wonder I’ve been feeling so good! I ordered something else from the internet–a cordless electric mower. It’s called a Neuton and is supposed to be very good. I got the three-year warranty, so I feel pretty confident that I won’t have to worry about it. Well, I just hope it works out super well. I haven’t cut grass in ages, and I’m nervous about the responsibility. Also, I ended u spending more on the mower than we would have paid the yardman for the rest of the summer, which kind of defeated the purpose of not hiring him anymore. But I’m going to be confident, unlike Angie (who said not to get a mower because Mary might not even be here next summer), that it was a good investment for the future. If I can find an old mower and trade it in, I’ll get $100 back from the city. If I can’t I’ll get $50 back. The mower has a trimmer/edger attachment, bag, extra battery, and mulching blade and plug and it all cost about $540. That’s a lot isn’t it? But I feel good about it. I feel like I’m investing in the future of the world by not using a gas-powered mower anymore. I feel like Mary and I are on the cutting edge of technology, going with the flow, living for the future... Plus, (this is really stupid, I know) this machine comes from Vermont and I’ve had this secret special feeling about Vermont for so long... it must be a good thing! Oh, you know what, I didn’t actually order the mower over the internet–I ordered it over the phone. Yes, I actually spoke to someone in Vermont.

I’d better be wrapping this up. Two quick cute stories about Mary:
–I got some new kitty treats a few weeks ago and opened the bag and handed it to Mary so she could see them. They were hard (tartar control) instead of he soft ones I’ve been getting. A thought flitted across my mind, but I ignored it an left the room. Sure enough, a half-minute later I heard crunch, crunch, crunch coming from the back porch–Mary was eating the kitty treats! I screamed and ran to her and she spit them out. O je. Poor baby.

–I’ve planted about 15 sunflowers in the garden and they’re all blooming now, so we’re getting used to them, but when the first ones bloomed, I cut one and brought it in and put it in a vase for Mary to look at. She oohed and aahed all day, so when we moved into the living room (which we haven’t been doing till nine PM when it gets dark–hurrah) that evening, I took it in so she could continue to look at it. As I sat it down on the table in front of her she exclaimed, "Oh, honey, that’s beautiful! Where did you get it?" I about died. No recollection of having looked at it all day already.

Oh, another–she’s always looking at these ink cartridges I have, so yesterday I let her write with the ink pen (from Germany) that I have. She got an ink stain on her index finger–I had to tell her several times what it was and where it came from.

We’ve been going out to sit on the swing after dinner and reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire till almost nine PM. We’re flying through it. I be Mary has absolutely no idea what I’ve read. But she listens quite attentively. Except when a bird comes to the feeder or the bird bath. So she’s really not listening much! I guess I just like the sound of my own voice. No, it’s also the joy of sharing an experience of a story with someone. Well, that’s all in my head, isn’t it?

Ok, got to go get her up. We really should make a peach pie today, but whether we can do that and dig a hole...oh, I’ll have to get more manure. O je. Everything is so complicated. Bonnie is off for two weeks. I’ve told Gina that we’d like to come visit. I’m nervous about traveling with Mary alone when it’s so hot. I’m nervous about leaving my garden and the cat. It would only be for a few days. I’ll have to see abut taking Mary’s potty chair–it’s so hard for her to get down and then up again. Jim says Gina’s just been sleeping all the time. She started a new treatment and has to be extra cautious about her skin.

Oh, I’ve also gotten a new cell phone. I’ll be switching from Cingular to T-Mobile. I’m going to prepaid. I just don’t use my phone enough to warrant paying $35 a month for it. I hope I made the right choice. I feel good about it.

I’m a real worry-wart, aren’t I?