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.

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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.