When I was released from rehab, here, I thought I was done with rehab...period.  I had not played well with the therapist's.  I argued that my legs were longer than most and the equipment was too short for the distance built from foot to knee.  They just kind of continued, forcing me to walk when I couldn't even stand.  I just shut down from trying to do their exercises. They released me.  I moved in.

Last week a new rehab lady came in and wondered if we could try some new rehab.  "Sure."  With a flat, polished board.

 She has taught me how to transfer from chair-to-chair, bed-to chair--flat surfaces like and today, she put me in a standing apparatus and not only did I stand and sort playing cards---I stood for 8 minutes.  I feel renewed --emotionally.

 Another chance?

For the last week or so, I have felt  that my status here would be to get

weaker, stay in bed most of the day, than be moved to a different floor, fed, cared for and allowed to die.  I feel like I have been making lists in my mind--things I have to do before I "leave".  

This morning, a woman from rehab came into my room.  She said they had a meeting about me and they want to start rehab again.  3 times a week instead of twice a week.

I feel if I ever get a chance to walk again--this might be it.

    

 For one tiny moment--a smile landed on my face,

it is as it is.

 The last week of November.  These last few months have gone so fast and I have spent most of them in hospital or here.

I went to the dining room for lunch today.  "they" tell me if I don't socialize I will get even weaker and want to be alone more.

HAH!

I've spent the last 10 years basically alone and the last 3 years totally alone--except for therapy.  I like to be alone,  The ladies at the table seeded sane at least.  I wanted answers so I ask--"how long did it take you to get used to living here?"

    #1.  Mary--has a sharp nose, like a witch and a gray wig cut in different lengths. "I've neen here eight and a half months and I still hate it."

    #2  Ann--quiet, composed, sweet smile.  She said "I've been here 3 years...don't like it.  I dom't anyone ever really gets used to it...knowing this is it for life...no matter how nice the facilities, we are still"captive".

    #Julia -- scowled  atl the time--didn't say a word...not a word...just sat and look at me.

That may or may not be her answer.

 Karen & Mark Grand Children

Bennie(3), Della(6), Eliana(18mo.), Neeco(1yr.), Harrison (4)

Daisy Josephine

4 hours

 I've figured every way to die in this place--refuse to eat?  Stay in bed, sleeping day-affter-day?

Doesn't work.  I* aked to speas to a consulare, they don't have one.  They have a social worker, but talking with her brings out the party line/  The Corporate slogan.

I know I'm lucky to be here This is the best AL continuum around--people mpve easily from rehab.AL to Long Term Care to Dementia care.

I think the initial schock is wearing off--it takes about 6 weeks.  Every one agrees that the way I was introduced to the place, "This is where you will be living from now on.  You won't go home again."  Not being able to see mu Buddy cat again. look around at what I MIGHT want to bring here.  I know something strange feeling went thgough me.  I thought after, I may have had a stroke--because since, I have a hard time remembering and spelling...when the kids first set up my computer, I had forgotten how to use it.

I just know I need too find someone to talk to about how I get reconciled with this way of life.

 Pretty much doomed to living the rest  of my life in this old folks home, and no reason to get too enthused to break 100 years old/ it occured to me I should help the greater cause of the greater.

Some of us wear BiPAP breathing machines.  Haven't I read that they are suspposed to be cleaned?  I've had mine 2 months--it has never been cleaned--I think they rinsed the water cup out once.

I discussed with night-time hear nurse.  She said they had already been tying to figure which department/which maintenance under-department and she thanked me for ,concern.

I am greatly assured as we strap on our masks and feel the deep slither of dirty/water salmonella, germ buggies slide to the deepest reaches of our lower lung lobes. 

What's The Point?

 What's the point in coming back to a blog I haven't posted in, in 8 months?

What's the point, when it is, as it is, and nothing is going to change?

Personality, I don't even see a reason to live.  But, apparently, my innards are too healthy to quit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all started August 16--I fell backwards in the bathroom. It didn't look or feel bad so I ignore it.  Besides I had a 3 molar extraction the next day.  On aug. 21, I fell==same spot in the bathroom.  My PT determined that I would go to ER

Off to the hospital...left (drop foot) is broken...4-5 and ankle and heel are sprained.  Rehab at a swanky place called The Willows..lucky we know the director and a couple of nurses to vouch for us or we'd never got in here.

Then the stress seemed continual:

I woke up one Sunny morning and Maggie the Cat was lying dead in the middle of the floor.  What do I do with a dead cat and no leg/muscle strength to take care of the situation?      Suggestions to put in a bag out on the porch--93 degrees that day.  Suggestion to just bag her and throw her in the garbage can--pick up the next day.  Thankfully, my friends -Pearl and Merle's daughter Marge, who had been caring for cats while I was in hospital, came, lovingly wrapper her in  baby, i had for her, put her in a vanilla scented trash-bag, into a small box and buried Maggie under the ornamental tree  I had planted 3 years ago.

Back in hospital 3 days later for heart stress test and heart catherteriz ation. rehab        Willows, back to hospital for breathing problems, rehab at Willows, home, hospital, rehab...then one morning, the kids, sister, doc, rehab people, all gather and with one united breath                                                                                                             state:"There has been a decision made by all of us, you are incapable of taking care of yourself, you will be staying here."

Well, okay--but at least one time back home to go through things? Hold my Buddy cat,  One night in my bed?

Apparently not, because they added reasons to it and stated it again.  That's when I screamed and the nurse later described it to be as a "catatonic reaction" to a shock that came on too fast.

That was a couple of weeks ago.  For a long time I just laid with my eyes closed.  I didn't respond or couldn't. 

I'm still confused about the whole thing.  Some one stuck in a place I don't want to be, but it's the best place for me.  I have to stay here. where it's the same every day, the people are nice, the food is good...just to keep me alive as long as possible,

I ask again.

What's the point?

 My youngest granddaughter.  18 years old, taller than MiMI and a Volleyball whiz.

When she was 1 year old.

My newest great grandson, Niklas,

who looks just like his Momma.

 

I promised I would post something in this blog every Sunday.  That didn't last very long.  It is hard to post when I am just angry at everything.  I have noticed that my lips are pressed together most of the day.  When I see myself in the mirror, I look like a grouchy, old woman--I guess mirrors don't lie.

I had an appointment with an electrical physiologist--to discuss the results of my heart monitor test and talk about Pace Makers. My daughter Karen wasn't home so my sister and BIL offered to drive 25 miles down here to take me and my sister would go in the room with me and take notes.

The appointment was at 2:40.  It started icing up at 2:00 and snowing by 2:30.  BIL brought his truck for the bad weather and I had a deuce of a time trying to get up on the seat.

We got there, the electrical guy came in, told me my heart monitor test was fine...that I didn't need a Pace Maker--probably never would and come back to the Cardiologist in six months.

COULDN'T HE HAVE DONE THAT THROUGH A PHONE CALL???

It took sister and BIL over an hour to get home!

==========

The next week Tuesday, I had an appointment for a CT scan with contrast on my left Kidney.  Karen took me.

I had an ultra sound on my Kidney's end of October. everything was fine.  .  I had a CT scan on my abdomen early November when I was in hospital, everything, including Kidney's was fine.  The second time I was in hospital, end of November because of my fall, I had a contrast CT scan on my innards and they found a teeny something on my left Kidney.  So I had to have this new scan.

I was told to be there an hour early, because I had to drink Barium.  Why would I have to drink that for a Kidney scan.  We got there an hour early and finally at 10 after 3:00--the appointment was for 3:30, Karen asked the nurse when I was going to get the "drink".

"Oh--your Mom doesn't have to drink anything.  You only needed to be here 15 minutes before your appointment."

ARGGH!

So in I went.  They popped an IV line in my arm--OUCH--I hate those things.  They took 3 passes without the contrast, then warned me I would feel warm all over and think I had to pee, and did 3 pases with the contrast.  I love the contrast--like how it makes me all warm inside.

The Tech came in, removed the IV, asked me how I felt and because I was feeling relief because it was over, I smart mouth replied, "That's the closet I've come to an orgasm in 20 years!"

She looked at me...old, skinny, wrinkled up woman and then she burst into laughter.  Every thing had been very professional until my comment.  I probably won't be able to go back there again.

The test results revealed, a 1cc cyst--BENIGN--get it scanned again in 4 years.

=======================

So there is nothing seriously  wrong with me.  All my innards are working just fine.  I should be happy and relieved, but I fell again the other day...landed on the cat food station which sent water and dry cat food up into the air and down onto me.  I had to butt-walk across the kitchen floor, with hard, dry cat food embedding itself into my bare hind end--as I only had my nightie on--to get to my recliner where I could get on my knees and pull myself up onto the seat.

All because of this dang dead-foot.  

 

I am not a spontaneous person.  I like to know who, what, where and when and make a plan for that time frame..  I love schedules.  I suppose, growing up on a dairy farm, where schedules were kept—no matter what, has caused me to be like this.  Cows had to be milked 12 hours apart.  I don’t care if it was the birth of your first child or the deathbed vigil for your father.  When it was milking time—you were in the barn, milking cows.

The first year of the pandemic didn’t throw me off too much, I was still mobile.  I still had my schedule of chores around the house to do.  Certain jobs on certain days and I could do 2 or 3 chores in a day—dusting, vacuuming, washing down counter tops, working in the garden.

Then I got this dang drop-foot, along with balance issues, and there are some chores I just can’t do anymore.  I am an independent person, I could take care of myself—until the drop-foot. This has rattled me and made me feel very unsettled

So, over the weekend, I decided which chore I could adapt to fit my condition and make a schedule.  I knew that I could only do one major chore a day, so I made an Excel spreadsheet (that’s part of the OCD I have) and made a schedule for each day with one chore.  I call it my BIG CHORE Day.

Today, I dusted.  I can do quite a lot of it sitting on the seat of the Rollator.  The higher shelves and stuff, I rest one hand on the Rollator for balance and use my right hand to work with.  Then I wiped down the kitchen counters, using my legs braced against the lower cupboards.

I can still bend over to feed the cats and clean up their litter box and put dirty dishes in the dishwasher for a future wash and I have no problem emptying the dishwasher—I haul the dishes from the dishwasher, resting on the Rollator seat, to the varying cupboards where they belong.

The same way with laundry…I load a load of dirty clothes into the bag under the seat of the Rollator and wheel them out to the washer.  When they are done drying, I sit on the seat of the Rollator, easily reach in to the very back of the dryer, and fold them or put them on hangers and then wheel them back into the bedroom.

I feel a lot better emotionally, working from the schedule and knowing there are still things I CAN do.  I have to stay as independent for as long as I can.

 I watch a couple of cross stitchers who have their own You Tube channels. I think these women are nuts!!!

They must be rich too because they go shopping every week.

One has 50 projects "kitted" up, which means, in a decorative plastic zipper bag, (50 separate bags) she has 50 projects--pattern, fabric, thread all set to go...some over a year old...and not one stitch put in the fabric.

They never seem to get any one project fully finished. They fully admit they can't stand to work on only one project from start to finish.

Their way would drive me nuts! I am what they call a "monogamous" stitcher. I start a project and work on it until it is done. I might have a pattern, on the side, that I want to stitch up someday, but not until I have this project done. I might work on 2 projects at the same time, but one would be cross stitch and one would be crochet.

===================

This past week was just horrendous!

Smoke alarm going off in the middle of the night, for no reason. I finally got it twisted off the wall and threw it in the bottom of the clothes hamper.

Furnace acting the fool. First it would come on about every 7 minutes, run for 8 and shut down. Then it got so it came on and only ran half a cycle, shut down, the blower would come on and blow only warm air. Then it got so it ran continuously, but could never get up to 72 to click off the thermostat.

I called our electric company, that I pay additional each month for appliance service plan--no outlay of money from me for their repair guys.

They told me the furnace hadn't been included on the plan. Thankfully, I had "minutes" and the name of the woman I talked to two weeks ago to have it added.

A guy couldn't get out for two days...but when he did...he was marvelous. I told him I thought it needed a new thermocouple and he agreed, but informed me, they now call that part a "sensor". Before he left, he wrote down his personal cell phone number and said to call him if there were any more problems.

Sure enough, two hours later, it was still doing the same thing, so I called and he came back.

He inquired as to how old the furnace filter was, I told him I had replaced it the first of December, but on further checking, he could tell it was loaded with white like dust. I had purchased two small humidifiers first of the month...one for bedroom and one for living room. They do not have filters so that warm mist that comes out is laden with lime from this terrible water we have and had not only laid down a fine white dust all over the furniture...I had just dusted the day before, GRRR, but the furnace filter had sucked in enough to clog it up a bit. Thankfully, I always buy the filters in pairs so I had a new one for him to put in. Furnace runs great!!!

I have since ordered some kind of thingie to put in the humidifier water tank that is "guaranteed" to demineralize the water and prevent the lime laden misty-dust. We shall see.

============

We haven't had much snow this month. I haven't been out of this house since December 30th, but had a hair cut appointment today. Guess what? We are under a weather storm advisory!!! Hair cut canceled. and I need to go to the bank before the end of the week.

It's not the driving---I grew up in Michigan, I know how to drive in snow, plus all the main roads around here are clear. The problem is getting from my front door to the car door and then back up the porch steps when I get home. I do not need to slip and fall on cement...if I'm going to fall, I want to fall inside, onto the nice, thick, soft carpeting.

=============

Last week, I got a call from my PCP (primary care physician) that I need to go to little hospital up the road for a contrast ultra sound on my left kidney.

Now I had one of those on Oct. 21 and everything was normal and fine. I had another non-contrast one the first time I was in hospital, first week of November. All was normal.

Apparently this "spot" showed up when I had a contrast one when in the hospital second time...after I had fallen and cracked a rib, bruised my right lung and had fluid buildup. I saw the report and figured it was just a bruise spot on my kidney. No big deal. Now, it sounds like a big deal.

I am not going to make the appointment for the scan until February because truthfully, I just can't handle it emotionally right now.

I wore that fancy heart monitor for a month and was able to take it off and will send it to the lab this coming Friday. I am assuming the monitor will show nothing out of the ordinary because I didn't have any pulse irregularities while I was wearing it.

I'd just like to take one thing at a time. Maybe I can fake my way back into hospital where they could do all these tests all at one time, in one place and I wouldn't have to worry about getting back and forth or if my daughter has time in her teaching schedule to take me, so I don't have to walk so far from car to hospital lobby with my Rollator.

============

It has been a blessing to me to have Merle's daughter Marge come down every Monday afternoon to haul my garbage can out to the street. It is difficult enough for me just to get the can loaded up, as it is slippery on my porch and the can is unwieldy and hard to move around. She usually gets my mail for me to. I don't notice if the mail delivery is bad or not...I only get mine when she brings it in...once a week. LOL

=======

A Face Book friend--a kid that was in Pammie's grade and I haven't seen in 45+ years, sent me two of those reacher-grabber sticks. What a blessing!!!

This morning the garbage pail was too far out for me to reach, so I grabbed the handle with that grabber stick and because the can has wheels, I could pull it right up to the open storm door and throw the bags of trash in it.

It also is so finely tuned on the grabber ends that I can pick up cat hair fuzzies off the floor and pieces of dry cat food.

When Walmart delivers my prescriptions, they just throw them at the top of the porch stairs. I can reach out with that grabber and pick up the package without having to go out on the porch and take a chance at falling when I bend over to pick up the package.

This being disabled with mobility issues sure isn't any fun. There is not one thing I can do in my normal before movement. I can even put down the cat dishes and then pick up their empty ones with the grabber.

Every time I use that grabber, I ask God to bless that kid. Well, he's 62 so not a kid, but you know....they'll always be kids to me.

===============

Like I said before..."If you can't do it. Adapt it." I've even learned how to sweep my kitchen floor by sitting on my Rollator.

 I keep telling myself that I am going to start blogging on a regular basis and yet...I think many of us are now on FB and post there about our raves and rants and are too tapped out to have anything cogent to blog.

On December 19th, we had our family Christmas up at The Farm, as so many generations before us...same house...where my sister lives.  Not all my grands could be there, not all my children, but all my greats were present.

My sister played Christmas carols on the piano and we all sang.  It was traditional and gave me a sense of peace and comfort.

Two days before Christmas I was fitted with a heart monitor that I have to wear until the end of January. Nowadays, they have a small transistor kind of sensor that sticks on my chest and sends heart beats and any kind of irregularity, to a small monitor that looks like a smart phone.  They are checking to see if my heart goes into AFib.  So far no irregular beats noticed.

Then on January 5th, Karen's youngest Madeleine gave birth to another son.  She decided to have a home birth...two midwives brought in a large tube--like a hot tub without the jets, and Madeleine delivered the baby herself!  Labor took 4 hours.  Karen was there to encourage.

(Aside...I don't get how women do this.  I didn't even want to watch my own kids being born..."Take that slimy baby over there, clean him up, put a diaper on him, wrap him in a blanket and THEN bring him over here for a snuggle and bonding."  I did not witness either of my girl's giving birth.)  Karen said because it was so calm and quiet, she felt a certain spiritual serenity about it all.

Niklaus Adeodatus Loretto Caspar John Stefan Gaudete von Buelow

Welcomed by his 19 month old brother:

Benedikt Leonel Lourdes Aquinas Anton Dominic Athanasius von Buelow

Karen with her fifth grandchild, in 5 years, 2 months

Why all the names you ask?  I have asked the same.  Daddy Stefan comes from a family of 7 boys--Very traditional, German Catholic family and that is just the way they do it.  We call the oldest Bennie and I suppose this one will be Nick or Nickie?

===========

"If you can't do it.  Adapt it."

I've been doing a lot of that lately.  So many things I can't do anymore with these mobility issues, but I am learning tricks to get things done with my Rollator walker.

In the morning, I put a dishtowel on the seat of the Rollator, get the wet cat food into two feeding dishes, fill up their dry food and water dish and roll it over to their feeding mat.  Thankfully, I can still bend over to put the dishes down on the mat.  

So I don't have to bend over and reach so far back into the dryer, I sit on the seat of the Rollator, which puts me on a level where I can get the clothes out of the dryer, fold them, or put them on a hanger and then get up, lay them on the Rollator and walk them into the bedroom to put away.

I can easily dust tables, entertainment/fireplace and even lower book shelves while seated on the Rollator.  and yesterday, I found I could vacuum this office space, while seated.

It took 45 minutes of moving stuff, vacuuming, moving stuff back, vacuuming, either seated in my desk chair or the Rollator...10 whole feet of carpet, but I got it done!

"If you can't do it.  Adapt it."

There is a warning, "DO NOT MOVE ROLLATOR WHILE SEATED" or I'd be using it like a wheel chair.  I suppose they are worried about the contraption collapsing?

===================

I am waiting for January to get over with and then will get back into physical therapy.  Right now, our (Michigan) Omicron numbers are the highest in the United States and my grandchildren doctor's, who work in ICU in a hospital on the west side of the state, tell me that the hospitalizations are higher than they've ever been. I figure if I stay in my house, I have little chance of picking up a bad buggie.

The same as last winter--hibernating until the worse is over and then peeking my nose out of my den.

If you can't do it.  Adapt it.