I know it's Sunday and it's a sunny day and I shouldn't complain about anything, BUT--

for some reason this month has got me down. I feel over-whelmed and just trying to get through each day.

It all started with having to get that new toilet, which took a big chunk out of the money I had put aside to fix the muffler on The Car.

Last week, I had to get a blood draw, which involved trying to climb up the many steps to the Doc's office. I had PT on Tuesday and PT and a Doc appointment on Thursday--this time I used my walker and struggled up the inclined ramp at his office.

I didn't get to drive out to The Farm on Friday like I had planned. It was a day of continual torrential rain. It has been 19 months since I've "been home".

This week, I take my car in tomorrow late afternoon to have him work on it Tuesday. This involves working around my daughter's schedule so she can meet me there and bring me home.

I canceled my PT appointment for Tuesday.

Hopefully The Car will be ready for pick-up on Wednesday, which will involve finding out my daughter's schedule so she can take me over to get it. Lord only knows what it's going to cost.

Thursday I have an appointment at 11:45 for a renal artery CAT scan to make sure the new meds I am on aren't damaging my kidneys. This will involve wrestling my walker out of the back seat of The Car and using it to walk, quite a distance, into the little hospital, and then wrestling the walker back into the car. Thursday afternoon, I have a dental cleaning, which will again result in wrestling with the walker and going up the inclined ramp. I canceled my Thursday PT, but get to do that on Friday.

I cancelled my hair cut on Monday...it can wait.

On Wednesday of that week, I have a follow-up appointment at Michigan Heart, in the little hospital to make sure my new BP meds are working. I KNOW they are working as my BP is TOO low now, which makes me tired.

AND to top it all off? As I got up this morning, I noticed one of the cats had barfed on the living room carpet. Not by a piece of furniture, where I'd have something to hold onto as I bend over to clean it up and put stain remover on it, Oh No--right in the middle of the living room. I guess I can pull my rocking chair over and sit on it and bend over to get that mess cleaned up.

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I'm just so frustrated and tired and actually angry. My dead foot isn't getting any better. There may be no fix for it and there is NO fix for my back problems.

I don't pray for a cure...there are so many with worse physical problems than me, and I pray for them. I pray to be more grateful and positive and I am grateful. At least I can still stumble along and am not in a wheel chair. I just get so tired and depressed.

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Okay--pity party rant over. I won't post about any of this again--unless it is on a positive note.

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Remember the photo of my new toilet?

This is one I wish I had. LOL

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I order my non-food products from the grocery store and have them delivered. The other day my "shopper" called to tell me there was not wet cat food in the 28 can cartons and there was no cat litter.

Thursday my daughter took my food card to get my food groceries and call me half way through the store to tell me some of the items I wanted were not on the shelves.

"Mom", she said. "This is scary...so many shelves are just bare."

I guess it's getting like this all over the country. Not just items from foreign countries stuck on those cargo ships out at sea, but locally or USA made items and food that is manufactured right here in Michigan.

We are 19 months into this pandemic and I expected short supplies when people were hoarding, but that crazy stuff is now over. Most be a trucking issues?

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I'm not real fond of this world we are living in right now.

I am on some kind of roller coaster of emotions.

My drop-foot isn't getting any better.  I don't feel safe walking with a cane.  My balance is atrocious.  Even with the PT twice a week for 6 months now, I don't seem to be getting better.

I got the car.  Had a gift of money to fix the muffler on the car.  Then insanity broke loose.

We have terrible water here.  Rust and calcium to the max.  Things wear out quicker than normal.  I have had issues with the innards in my toilet tank for years.  The chain that pulled up the ring that pulled up the flapper to flush, kept rusting out.  I was capable enough to buy a new chain and fix it or use a wire and paper clip to fix it.

Three weeks ago, everything inside the tank just broke down.  Rusted pieces of this and that lay on the bottom of the tank.  I called a guy who does a lot of work in the park here and he gave me an estimate for repairs.  The innards alone and labor would run near $200.00.

Actually, I needed a whole new toilet as the one I had was a bit too low and made it very hard for me to get off.  So he found a 17' high toilet.  I wanted the 21" high, but it was $500.00, just for the toilet.

It took him 2 weeks to schedule me in. It didn't take him an hour to get the new toilet in.  I had purchased a sort of chair like frame--arms--to make it easier for me to push myself up.  They were under $40.00 and they work well.

His invoice?  $450.00.  He then gave me $25.00 off because I paid him cash--sorta under the table?

My bathroom now looks like it was built for an elderly, disabled person, which ticks me off, but I suppose is true.

Now, I'm wondering where the $$$ is going to come from to fix the car.  Probably $250.00 for new muffler and labor.

Ya know?  Somedays I just want to go to bed, refuse to eat and turn my back to the door and ease on outta this world!  I know a few people that have done that.

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Closure?

It's been 4 strange months emotionally for me. I sit in this computer room a lot and the windows face the street. Dar's house is kitty-corner, so every time I look out the windows, there it is.

I have had a hard time even imaging she is gone. I look up and expect to see her car pull into her drive or see her and her Dad walking out to go somewhere or look up; to see her headed over here.

Her house was put up for sale and sold quickly--as do most homes in this park. Her kids had a garage sale last week. I didn't go over. All this past week, her oldest daughter and her partner have been cleaning out the house. People came to buy furniture.

I'd watch as the women went in and out--all day long--carrying loads of stuff--filling up the back of their SUV and coming back with it empty. Donating to Salvation Army, I supposed.

Yesterday, a truck with a box trailer pulled up in front and two men started hauling out large items. Perhaps for a consignment sale? Perhaps to put in an auction?

I felt a great urge to go over. I just wanted to say good-bye to her daughter...that I will never see again in my life. I got my walker out of the back of my car and went over.

She invited me in and a kind of shock hit me. There on the living room carpet were left the imprints of where the couch had sat--her chair, the chair I always sat in, her Dad's chair. He died last week at the age of 100 and 4 months.

The empty house echoed with the sounds of our words.

It hit me.

We hugged, our good-bye words came from thickened throats and tear filled eyes.

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I saw the real estate woman go in the house this morning.

Now, everything will be in reverse--with trucks and vans bringing in furniture.

I hope nice people bought it.

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On a lighter note: My youngest great grand baby that was born prematurely in April. She is six months old now and has such a precious personality. Those big eyes remind me of my daughter, her grand mother Karen, when she was that age.

Well, what can I say that is worth reading?

Ever since last fall, when the mechanic told me that my car was "near death" and I shouldn't really drive it because of the power steering fluid leak, I have only driven 4 mile round trips--to the store and now to PT twice a week, which...oh yes, continues.

I have a condition called Drop-Foot.  Who knows what caused it or when/if it will ever get better.  Then April 1st, my left foot started swelling.  "They" ruled out it was caused by the Drop-Foot as that is not one of the side effects.

My Doc thought I had dropped something on my foot...in July, he declared the swelling was caused by the hot weather.  That Idiot is wrong on both parts.

Coincidentally, this swelling started exactly two weeks after my Johnson& Johnson vaccine shot.

I have been researching and reading and think I have come up with my own self diagnosis--which I've always been pretty good at.

Lymphedema.  Not serious, but no cure.  Lymph nodes in the upper legs aren't draining away the fluids like they are supposed to.  I am now wearing compression socks--which take all my strength and prayers for help, to put on!

I will bring this up when next I see the Idiot Doc.

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As for the car, since last fall I have had 3 deals on getting a different car fall through.  Finally, a friend of my my daughter Karen told her they were selling their daughter's car.  Then they changed their mind.  Then they changed their mind again.

My car is 23 years old.  This car is 12 years old, but looks like it survived a war.  Bumps and bruises on all sides.  Paint missing.  Every time their daughter bumped into something, they didn't fix it as their insurance would have gone up.  It needs a muffler, hubcaps and a driver's side headlight cover.    BUT..........

it runs great!  

They could get $800.00 from the dealer as a trade-in, but because it was Karen's friend and their daughter is a friend of Karen's daughter Maddie, she said, "If it's for Grandma Judy, I want her to have it."

So I had $500.00 to my name....and that's what they said they would sell the car for.  Great, but how to pay for the needed muffler, hubcaps and headlight?

I opened my mail yesterday and there was a greeting card and inside that card was 3, crisp, new smelling $100.00 bills!

I HAVE AN ANGEL!!!!  HER NAME IS JUDY ALSO.  SHE SAID SHE JUST WANTED TO HELP.

My Gosh!  How do you thank someone for a gift like that?

Now I can get the car fixed and hopefully, take a drive up to The Farm.  I haven't been there in 18 months and I am so homesick.

 

 Daughter Karen had a party August 1st for all the birthday's and anniversaries for that month.  We have a lot.

I got to meet my newest great grand girl.  Eliana Katherine.  She was born pre-maturely April 4 and only now weighs 8 pounds.  It was like I was holding a new born, but she was alert, smiling and cooing at me like a 4 month old.

She just kept looking at me all the time I held her.

Karen continues to get my groceries for me and I continue to go twice a week to PT.  It's been almost 4 total months.  

 Well, you'd think I could keep up with this blog more than a post every six weeks!

I'm still in physical therapy--nearly 3 months now.  My legs are getting much stronger, but I have what they call a "Drop Foot" on my left side.  I can't lift my toes off the floor, so I take a step with my right foot, heel-toe, and then my left foot just drops on the ground.  I look very similar to how Frankenstein walks.  

The pain in my lower back is better.  It will never go away, but at least it isn't constant anymore.  

My unreliable car, is still unreliable--I drive it 4 miles-round trip, on Tuesdays and Thursdays to the PT.  That makes me frustrated!  I just want to be able to get in my car and drive up to The Farm and visit my sister and my hometown.

The weeds in my garden are taller than my beautiful Lilies.  My front porch needs to be painted, but my balance isn't good enough yet to do any of those chores.

Mobility issues, they call it.  I know what I'd like to call it, but God told me not to swear anymore.

 If you have been reading this blog for the last few years, you have seen me write about my neighbor Dar.  The strong-willed, strong-minded, assertive Dar.

She visited me one evening about 7 weeks ago.  Her 100 year old Dad lives with her and every once in awhile she needs to escape.  So she waits until he falls asleep for his evening nap and scoots over here for 45 minutes.

She had walked her normal 3 miles that day.  Diagnosed with a very rare blood disease, Waldenstrom Syndrome--a form of Hodgkins cancer, but no symptoms, so they are "watching it".

Two nights later, as I sat here in my computer room, looking out at her house, I saw an ambulance pull up and attendants going into her house.  I naturally thought it was her Dad, but about a half hour later, the gurney came out and it was Dar, sitting on it.

The next day I called a couple of her friends here in the park--Jackie, who lives next door to Dar and right across the street from me--was in bed asleep and didn't know anything.

Dar's housekeeper who lives down at the end of the street didn't know either, but had Dar's daughter's phone number and would find out.

Dar's daughter, from North Carolina, had just come in that very morning.  They were getting together so that Dar could make out her Will.

Two days later, I heard that Dar had been having extreme stomach pains and vomiting, so the ambulance was called.  Tests had been done.  She was to have surgery.

Now, this rare form of blood cancer can remain dormant for years and then appear in an internal organ.  There is no known cure.

Dar had a tumor, the size of a large bake potato removed from her Pancreas and two smaller ones--lemon sized, removed from her kidney, liver and had her spleen removed.  

She was in hospital for 10 days and then came home on Friday, May 8th.  The next morning, her daughter, Dad and her sat down for breakfast and all of a sudden, Dar said, "Oh", and fell over onto her left side.  The day before Mother's Day--when her granddaughter was expected to arrive.

Back into hospital.  She had a stroke.

She was in hospital for 10 days and they wanted to move her to a care/rehab facility, but the facility said she wasn't well enough for them to take care of her.

Finally got her moved in the last of May.  Even though Dar could speak a bit and knew her daughter/Dad/granddaughter, within four days, she suddenly decided to turn her back to the door, refused to eat or drink and kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut and refused to speak.

Jackie went to visit her at the care center and said it was awful.  Dar looked awful and Jackie wished she hadn't gone.

I told Jackie and Dar's other friends, "Dar is just waiting for her Angel to come and escort her home.  Her faith is very steadfast and deep and she doesn't want to be here anymore."

Dar died Monday, June 7th.

Everyone was shocked, but I thought, if she did make it through the stroke with rehab, she'd still have some debilitating effects from it and then the cancer?  Would she want to deal with the treatments?  Would she want the pancreatic tumor to come back and kill her?

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It feels very strange to look out these front windows and see her house all closed up, her car removed from the driveway.  I keep expecting to see her pull in with her car.  I keep waiting for her to open my door and walk in.

She had such a dynamic, strong, vibrant personality, that it feels like something is missing from out neighborhood.

Today, her kids opened up her house so family, neighbors and friends could gather together and talk about memories.  It was a nice gathering.

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PLANT TREES

In Remembrance

Darlene C. Nadeau

May 13, 1942 - June 07, 2021

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Darlene C. Nadeau, age 79 of Brighton, passed away after an extended illness on Monday, June 7, 2021. She was born May 13, 1942 in Detroit, the daughter of Clovis and Betty (Holtz) Nadeau. She is survived by her children Lisa Nalepa, Jeffory Nalepa, Connie Hetu and Wayne Hetu. Grandmother of Jeffory, Ashley, Zoe, George, Eleni, Hopejoy, Corey and Shea. Great-grandmother of Cooper and Hunter. Also survived by her father Clovis and brothers Mike and Terry Nadeau. Darlene was a manager of several restaurants. She enjoyed taking her day trips to to many places especially Frankenmuth, liked attending church, was an avid walker, liked her coffee and enjoyed spending time with family and her father. A memorial gathering will take place at a later date. 

  Well last Friday was one of those kind of days, that left me emotional, but so happy. I had talked it over with my sister, last month when she took me up to her house. My mother built me a doll house for my 3rd Christmas. No young girls left to play with it and I wanted to say where it went before I die. Just one of those things you want done...just in case.

Today, my daughter Karen, her oldest daughter Helene, my great great granddaughter Della and her little brother Harrison drove on up to Susan's house to pick it up...to go to my gg daughter Della.

I wrote the history of the doll house and rolled it up like a scroll, tied with a little piece of leather and put it in one of the small closets to stay with the doll house.

"This doll house was made by Dorathy Della Walts in 1943.

She gave it to her daughter, Judith Jean Walts on Christmas Eve that year. Judy was 4 ½ years old.

When Judy’s little sister, Susan Ellen Walts, was born in 1952, she played with it.

When Judy had children, Mark, Pam, Karen & Jennifer, they played with it.

When Judy had granddaughter’s, Helene, Susanna, Madeleine (Rivard) & Elise (Oertel), they played with it.

Judy gave it back to Susan to have in her house and Susan’s granddaughter’s, Kate and Elizabeth played with it. 2015

Now that all those little girls have grown up, Judy is giving it to her great granddaughter, Della Helene, her oldest granddaughter Helene’s daughter, to have. 2021"

They loaded it into Helene's car, I took one last look at it, with my arm draped over my little sister's shoulders, and could remember the exact moment I saw it for the first time. That Christmas 78 years ago.

Sister Susan, daughter Karen, Granddaughter Helene, holding Harrison.,

Della and me.