Catching Up

About an hour after I put her to bed, Mary was coughing so badly that I went in to give her some water. She asked me the question I’ve been dreading for years now: "Who are you? What’s your name, honey?" In exasperation I told her she couldn’t have forgotten who I was! She replied that she often forgot things–as if it weren’t something so serious. I turned her night light on and put my face close to hers. She immediately remembered my name and seemed to be saying, "So there. You see–it wasn’t so horrible." But it is horrible. To have someone you spend almost every waking, breathing hour with not remember your name. That was much worse than when she doesn’t remember that this is her house or that she’s at home. Just this morning I heard her asking the kitty if it wanted to come home with us and telling it that she thought they had a dog at home. Then I heard a light snore, so maybe she was talking in her sleep, but it sure sounded like she was wide awake.
I haven’t written for so long for several reasons. For one thing, my computer threatened to keel over, so I had to reinstall my hard disk drive, losing tons of information and programs. I didn’t think to write down the names of programs I could have looked up on the web again. I was paralyzed with fear–even though I spent several days trying to save files. I think something may be wrong with my CD burner. But when the moment finally came when nothing else was saving, my brain just went numb. It was a bit like putting a dear pet to sleep. And when I start my computer, I still get the message that a failure may be imminent. Argh! Now I’m having to use WordPerfect and I detest it! It’s like trying to ride a tricycle when you’re used to a ten-speed. (That’s a funny comparison for me since I never ride a bike and am not even very good at it!) They’ve put these features which are supposed to be so helpful (I guess to those who have never used a word-processing program before) and yet are entirely annoying! Ok, enough of that or I’m going to work myself into a tizzy. Well, except to say that I think I’ve also been avoiding my computer now because, well, it’s a bit like I’ve been betrayed by it. I don’t trust it anymore–when in actuality, I was probably the one who screwed it up! But, yes, I guess that’s the way a lot of relationships work, too.
The weather has been pretty glorious, too, so I’ve been working out in the garden and sitting out on the back porch with Mary a lot. I try to keep her out there till 9 PM, so then I don’t have as much time on the computer in the evening, either.
Nothing of too much interest has happened. I got someone to come give me an estimate on the back porch windows–I’d like to get double-paned windows installed so she can sit out here in the winter. Typical of me, I called the wrong company. They sell really high-quality regular replacement windows. So theirs were too expensive and not the right style for a sun room. The guy had so much aftershave on I couldn’t breathe–and it smelled for days! Plus, he had this overly-familiar style which rubbed me the wrong way. It was all just not right and kind of upset Mary because she doesn’t see any need to spend money. She doesn’t understand how nice it would be for her to sit out here in the winter. Well, he quoted us $2,000, which was way too much for us. Especially considering we just had the leak in the basement fixed and the bar redone and the handrail put on the back door. That all ran us about $1200. Then there’s the whole thing of how long is Mary going to live and should I spend this money on the house when it might just go to Anna? Is that wise of me? And I’ve spent probably $60 this summer on flowers and stuff in the garden and would so love to put in some more roses, which I know Mary would love but... and you know I feel so resentful that they’ve put me in this bind. Not just about the money but about doing anything to the house. I can’t feel like it’s really my home. And I think things like, well, could I take the roses with me when I leave? Oh, also, sometimes when it rains the ceiling leaks in two places, so I know I should have someone look at the roof, but I’m terrified of being taken to the cleaners. It’s bad enough when it’s your money, but when it’s your little old aunt whose money is getting ripped off, you feel even worse. I don’t know why I’m so convinced that if I have someone fix the roof, they’ll rip us off, but I am and I just can’t shake the feeling, so I don’t deal with it.
Uncle Tom has been in town for a few weeks now. He’s been to see Mary three times, I think, once with Angie and twice alone. I can only take him in small doses. He’s such a vocal Republican, with no thought at all that maybe someone else has a different and equally valid take on things. I can argue with Angie about these issues (She’s also a died-in-the-wool Republican) but I don’t want to take Tom on. The first time I met him and Dot when I came back from Germany was a horrible experience. I hadn’t been living with Mary for very long, hadn’t been in the country for very long, when they came to visit. They started in on the Democrats and said they’d like to have Bill Clinton in front of them, so they could spit in his face. The gall just rose in my throat. Such uncivilized, childish, unchristian sentiments! I told them I couldn’t stay in the house one more minute with people who would say something like that and went over to Mom’s house. I wish I wouldn’t get so emotional about things! That’s why I could never get involved in politics. And I wish I could argue better. I’ll feel something so strongly but I don’t have solid facts to back them up, or it’s just what I’ve heard on the radio. For instance, I detest Bill O’Reilly but I can’t explain in a clear, concise, well-argumented fashion as to why. Especially not well enough to convince someone who absolutely loves him–i.e., Angie. Thank goodness Mary is so diplomatic and doesn’t care about anything. I was talking to her about that last night. When I first moved in I found Mary’s noncommital attitude rather annoying but I’ve come to value her lack of an opinion! I could never live with someone as uncompromising as Angie, for instance. Is it because I’m also uncompromising? I hope not! Anyway, Tom had promised to meet Mary for lunch after a doctor’s appointment one day. We called him after we were finished but he didn’t answer his cell phone. I left a message that we’d just go on to the restaurant and maybe see him there. He never showed up and hasn’t called Mary since then. Either he’s losing it, too, or has very little regard for Mary. We found out from talking to Anna that he went over to have lunch with Anna that day. Can you understand me when I say that it seems that none of them have much regard for Mary?
Here’s a cute anecdote: after I’d spent all day digging out in the garden a few weeks ago, I got pretty close to a sunburn on my back and was complaining about it hurting during dinner. Mary turned to me and asked in the most deadpan manner, "Well, was it worth the pain?" She kept thinking that I’d just been lying out in the sun all day–even though she’d seen me working. I just rolled laughing. Maybe you had to be there. Maybe it was just the unexpectedness of the remark and that it had nothing to do with the facts of the situation and yet sort of did. I don’t know, but it was cute.
Mom, Mary and I went over to my brother Fred’s for lunch (i.e., very, very late lunch) last Sunday. We’re trying to encourage Fred to cook because he wastes so much money going out. I don’t think it worked. He gave Mom all the left-overs. Fred carried Mary up the stairs to his house in her wheelchair. I sort of helped, but he really did all the lifting. I think it was rather boring for Mary. It was kind of boring for me, too! I guess I’m just not into just sitting around for hours on end. Anyway, after we got home, Mary said, "You know, I don’t even know where we went to today." At least she remembered that we went somewhere!
Anna never calls Mary. I try to get Mary to limit her calling Anna to 2-3 times a week. I know Anna feels sorry for Mary (for her mental state) and it just burns me up. Mary always tells her to call, but Anna comes up with some excuse. She just doesn’t think about it. Any way she puts it, it’s insulting. You mean to tell me that she never thinks about Mary? That’s so sad! I try to stay out of the conversation but inevitably get dragged in. I wish I could forgive Anna and I know I really, really should, but that’s harder than I thought.
Angie calls occasionally. I think Tom keeps her pretty well entertained, so she doesn’t think much about Mary. I have some sunflowers I’d like to plant for her, so Mary and I may go over there today or tomorrow. (I’d also like to go to Kohl’s near where she lives as it’s the only place that has pants that fit my big Beisler bucket.)
Speaking of going shopping, I need to take Mary to Knott’s to see about getting her a new pair of shoes–and I need to try to return the other ones we got. She’s gotten so lazy about getting a shower or getting dressed, that it’s hard to get her out of the house. The other day she didn’t take a shower till 3:30 in the afternoon. She hasn’t used the handrail out back yet–says it’s too windy out, which it probably has been.
Her toes look pretty good. The vascular surgeon upped her morning dose of Colestizole (??) and we’re going back in a month. I’m very nervous of it and am keeping an eye on her bowel movements and bruising, etc. She seems to just be tired all the time anymore. I hate that, but what can I do? I know she longs t see Anna and Angie and talk to them but that’s just not going to happen. I’ve started getting her to do the 10-minute Deep Relaxation exercise with the headphones–so I know she really hears it. She really likes that. Then we’ll switch the function over to radio and she’ll listen to classical music for quite a while. I think that’s good for her! One day she even switched it over (accidentally) by herself.
She’s had a lot of incontinence lately. Should I start putting pads in her undies? She also shakes a lot. I guess that’s age-related Parkinson’s. I try to get her to exercise with her arms but she says she doesn’t feel like it.
I have a secret to admit–I feel jealous of Bonnie, the lady who comes to help us. She gives Mary little presents from time to time and carries on about how attached she is to her. Why does this annoy me? I find myself thinking, "She’s mine!" like Bonnie is trying to take her away from me! I’m always so suspicious of people. I haven’t been locking my door (I keep the important papers in there) but I think I should start again. You can’t trust anyone. Especially not the ones you think you can trust!