jerzgirl

All summer long, Shady would sleep under the lilac bush or the dogwood tree in the front yard. She was so deep in sleep, our neighbor actually though she was dead and came to check on her. I don’t know why she chose the front yard, but she did. Then, when it got colder, she would come in and sleep in front of the heater vent. That is, until we put the Christmas tree up.

After the first day the tree was up, I noticed that Shady wasn’t in her usual spots (any one of three heater vents). In fact, she had recently begun sleeping next to the vacuum with her head on the base of the vacuum right next to the vent. She’s an odd one. But, I couldn’t find her - not by any vent, not in the bathroom where her water is, not in either of the bedrooms, not on any of the chairs. I had no idea where she’d gone. It wasn’t until Christmas Eve day that I realized where she was as I was arranging things under the tree. There was Shady, lying contentedly and sleeping soundly, under the tree the same as she did outside. Obviously, she made a connection, but I have no idea what it is about a tree that she likes. She doesn’t climb them or scratch them. Maybe it’s like a kitty security blanket.

Now Chloe, she’s always been a cat who simply didn’t like cat toys. She didn’t give a hoot about catnip or mousies or anything. She did, however, love taking huge bites out of rolls of toilet paper (did that again recently), eating paper bags, opening cupboard doors and drawers in order to get attention and, most oddly, going crazy over a pair of string bikinis that my daughter had. I tried using a feather toy on a stick to play with her, but she was afraid of it. But, if you even began to move that pair of underwear, she’d go crazy, jumping on it, chasing it, jumping in the air for it. It was funny to watch her - her eyes almost glowing with excitement like Shady’s used to do with the horned toad.

So it was with great incertitude that I bought a stocking full of kitty toys for both cats and divvied them up between the two stockings I had bought for them. I knew which stocking was for whom and set them on either side of the tree. On Christmas Eve, while I was sitting and talking with Mom’s social worker, I could hear the jingle, jingle, jingle of the balls I had put in both stockings (there were also catnip mice and, for Shady, a bag of catnip). I turn around to see Chloe pulling out HER stocking and trying to get things out of it. I called her a bad kitty and put the stocking back. Her ears went down and she left the room. As soon as I was engaged in conversation again, I heard the same jingling again. I turned around and this time, she hadn’t dragged it out, but was under the tree herself trying to get things out of it. She managed to get the big catnip mouse out and began to play with it like crazy. I have no idea how she figured out which stocking was hers and I’m even more amazed that she’s having so much fun with this mouse. She’s NEVER before given one thought to playing with or chasing a catnip mouse. But now, if I even pick it up, she gets so excited and tries to grab it from me. When I throw it, she runs after it, grabs it and rolls around the floor with it. It’s amazing to watch only because she has never been this way before! So, I let her have her gift early. Since then, both cats have managed to get some stuff out of their stockings - even Shady seems to know which one is hers. It’s kind of neat because this is the first time since I was a kid that I had stockings for my cats.

Chloe

Sunday morning - Sweet Potato Pancakes

That’s what I made for breakfast this morning. We’d had sweet potato patties a few days ago that I had candied for supper, but I had two patties left that were thawed. So, I decided to add one of them to the pancake batter this morning with a little cinnamon. YUM!! Mom liked them and so did I. I’ve had pumpkin pancakes before, but since sweet potato tastes so much like pumpkin, I decided it might be a good way to use up some of those leftovers. If you ever get the chance, you should try it. I just used “add water” pancake mix and when it was almost the right consistency, I added the patty and mixed it all together. Once it was mixed, I added the cinnamon (pumpkin pie spice would be perfect, but I didn’t have any). Then I made the pancakes. They really were good - and smelled WONDERFUL!!

I had put the bipap mask on Mom again last night as she was looking a bit washed out and was pretty lethargic. A couple hours later, she took it off (I’d rather she didn’t) and wanted a couple cookies and some ice cream. My friend had stopped at the store and bought her some peach ice cream, which she loves. She enjoyed it, but didn’t want the mask back on. She also wanted ice water. She craves ice water. Just loves it. I prefer mine directly from the tap, but she likes hers as cold as she can get it. So, I’ve begun giving her an insulated travel cup so she can keep it on the bed table near her.

After breakfast this morning, Mom had her cat petting therapy with Shady who is willing to stay with her while being petted. Chloe just freaks out about being there. So, I brought Shady in to her before going to get her ice water. When I got back, Shady was lying on Mom’s chest facing her while Mom petted her with both hands. She’s a good cat. She’s back under the tree now.

Well, it’s two days past Christmas and I just finished feeding Mom her lunch. So much for their telling me she was refusing to eat. When you’re blind and nearly deaf, and someone comes in with a food tray while you’re napping and sets it down quietly on the bedside table, it’s not all that hard to realize that what you don’t know is there you’re not going to eat. Combine that with a clear liquid diet they put her on the last two days without explanation, a diet she flat out doesn’t like other than the jello, and you get the appearance of something other than what it is.

As long as she’s been awake and alert, she has eaten well for me. Of course, I know what she likes, and at this stage, I’m not as worried about diet as long as she can enjoy it and chew it. Not only did she eat her lunch of dried beef gravy over toast, but she had peach ice cream for dessert. She ate faux cheerios with dried fruit for breakfast. I try to keep a glass of ice water on her bed table so she can keep herself hydrated.

As she was finishing her ice cream, she asked me where the cats were. Even though she complained initially about their being here, she does love having them around (and, amazingly, Shady has not scratched one piece of furniture, the little wench. She destroyed at least THREE pieces of mine!)

Chloe’s afraid to be up on the bed with Mom. She’s been very anxious since they began bringing in equipment and such for Mom’s homecoming. Follows me around everywhere - needs to be near me, touching me in some way. Usually, if I’m on the stool here typing, she’ll be behind me on the bed and will reach out a paw and touch my arm, almost patting it. So, I give her a reassuring pat in return. Sometimes, she wants to be held, so she’ll walk over on to my lap and I’ll pick her up and drape her over my left shoulder where she’ll stay for up to 30 minutes just purring away. If I lie on the couch, I have a Chloe cat up with me within minutes. If I’m in feeding Mom, Chloe comes in and out, rubbing my legs, chirruping at me. She wants me to leave the room, but I don’t.

Shady, on the other hand, has few fears. She was a desert cat when I got her, living off the kindness of strangers and whatever small rodent or lizard she could catch. She seemed very happy to become a house pet, but her love of chasing “critters” continued. Horned toads fascinated her. She brought one home once - I don’t think she could understand why it wouldn’t die like the other things she caught. Her eyes would be bright and shiny while she watched him scamper about trying to get back outside. Her whole body would quiver with excitement. Now, we weren’t going to let anything happen to him, but it was a hoot watching her reactions to him.

But, Shady also loves people. No matter who comes over, she thinks they’re just waiting to meet her. She loves being in people’s laps. So, after Mom was done with her ice cream and asked me about the cats, I went out to get Shady (who had licked the gravy plate clean by then) and took her in to Mom for some loving. She got right out of my arms on to the bed and as soon as Mom began to pet her, she was in heaven. While Mom was petting her with her left hand, Shady went looking for her right hand so she could “double dip”. That’s right - Shady just can’t get enough. So, Shady was rubbing on Mom’s right hand while Mom’s left hand petted her back. While they were involved in mutually admiring one another, I proceeded to empty Mom’s catheter bag - one of those lovely surprises I hadn’t been prepared for when they brought Mom home. It’s easy enough, though.

Meanwhile, both Mom and Shady were happy with their petting party. Once Mom drifted off to sleep, Shady got down and went back into the living room.

Which brings up another topic…

To be posted tomorrow.

Shady

Christmas Day was a pretty good day under the circumstances. My daughter called at 7:30 to tell me she was on her way, so I had to hurry and get dressed. Mom was awake and looking forward to breakfast. Tom had brought muffins and cinnamon buns (aka sticky buns) the day before, so she wanted the latter, fried. (It’s a good way to use them up once they get stale, honest.) Most of the rest of the day, Mom slept. She woke up for dinner and ate about half of what I brought her. Shortly thereafter, she had to use the commode. Uh oh. I hoped that what happened on Monday wouldn’t happen again, because I had no one to help me if it did. She couldn’t help it - all the stool softeners and other “encouraging” items they’d given her in the hospital finally took effect. And, she couldn’t move fast enough.

Well, it did happen again. And, I was going to need help dealing with it, because I couldn’t hold her and clean up at the same time. That’s when the real problems began.

My cousin, her pride and joy nephew who can do no wrong in her eyes (yes, I do have some things I am unhappy about), hasn’t even bothered calling her while he’s been in town since Tuesday. So, he wasn’t a problem for me because he doesn’t even involve himself. My daughter wasn’t a problem, although I tried reaching her and couldn’t. She’s always come when she is able as needed. The problem was Hospice who has told me since day one that if I needed any help at all, to call them, no matter what time it is. Right. You can bet I’ll rethink that one next time. You see, when I called them to help me with her because she had pooped all over and I needed help holding her up to clean her and then getting her back into bed, they told me, “I’m sorry, but we have no one on call after 4pm.” Hello? There’s no one on call BEFORE 4pm either since those are regular business hours!!!! That’s the whole principal behind “on call”!!!! I was and am so pissed about this, I don’t know how I can be civil to them again. I told the woman, “Fine, whatever. My mother will just have to sleep on the commode.” Then I slammed the phone down on her. They have YET to call back to see if I got help. The woman had the nerve to ask me, “Don’t you have a family member you can ask to help you?” Yo, dumb (expletive deleted) - if I had a family member helping me or available to help me, do you think I’d be calling YOU for help??? How f-ing stupid can someone be?

I had called them, I had tried calling my daughter, I had called the lady who told me to call if I needed help (not home, yet again), and then Mom’s pastor. I felt bad because it’s Christmas. But, I needed help. Anyway, I finally got her cleaned up (she was able to stand and hold on to her walker just long enough for me to get it done), got a clean robe on her, and she sat back down on the commode because she couldn’t stand any more.

Once she regained her composure and breath, we tried getting her up and turned to lie down. Even though I had gotten her to the commode, she became afraid I would drop her going back, so she wouldn’t let me help her anymore. She asked me to call the neighbor. They weren’t home. So, I called the police. They sent the ambulance crew out (no lights or siren) to help me. They were really good with her, got her positioned just right in the bed, asked if there was anything else they could do, just really nice. They said they would come any time I needed them to come, that was their job. I told them what hospice had said and they were surprised as well. Told me to make sure I told someone. I plan to.

Although I don’t expect this to be an everyday occurrence, I don’t plan to EVER call hospice again unless I absolutely have to. I may even look into another hospice service after this. I haven’t decided.

Mom, on her birthday

I’ve seen a lot of discussions about who got what from or for whom, what did they like, what did they hate, and similar. One set of questions really made me think and that was, what was the best gift you received and what gift did you give that was really from the heart?

Although I responded, I decided the topic was one I wanted to talk about here as well.

I can’t think of anyone who hasn’t received a gift they didn’t like at some point, regardless of the reason for the gift. Most people are gracious and appreciate the thought, even if the gift wasn’t a good one. Whether or not you re-gift kind of depends on what kind of gift it is and how often you see that particular giver.

I re-gifted a couple of things I received from someone because I just didn’t want him giving me gifts. But, I can’t destroy things. I think that’s more cruel than re-gifting. If I think the gift is decent, I try to make sure it has a good home with someone who WILL appreciate it. In my case, it was my granddaughter - she received a collectible porcelain red-headed doll dressed in traditional Irish clothing. I thought it was appropriate because her mother, both grandmothers and all her aunts and uncles on her mother’s side are redheads. I also sent her a little ceramic kitten from Bruge - as much as I like cats, it always reminded me of the giver and I didn’t want that reminder. So, I found it a good home with a little girl who would love having a little kitten to look at.

This year, however, was a bit more difficult with regard to gifts. My income is dramatically decreased because of no employment all year and my mother’s illness made me hesitant to give her any gift she truly can’t use or enjoy. So, therein lies my realization of the best gift and the true gift of the heart.

The best gift I have received this year has been my mother’s being home for Christmas. Her disease is so far advanced, her last hospitalization could have been her final. She’s ill enough that she is on hospice care. So, it’s a bittersweet knowledge that coincides with the joy of her coming home. Her arrival came with no bows or pretty paper, loads of medical equipment and medications, lots of paperwork to sign, but it’s still by far the best gift I could have had.

As for my gift of the heart, that would have to be my caring for her; not to pat myself on the back, because I know others could do a better job, but I WANT to do this. I know hospice will be helping me, but they aren’t here 24/7, so it’s mainly me. I can’t see (and don’t want) anyone else doing this. I know my daughter will help when she can, but Mom has come to my rescue more than once throughout my life - now it’s my turn. How could I NOT give this to her?

So, there it is - sometimes, it IS all about the gifts. And, sometimes, the intangible gifts are the best kind of all.

Mom came home from the hospital on Sunday.  She was alert, although occasionally confused, all of Sunday and most of Monday.  Her clarity was improved by Monday night.  When she indicated she had some pain, I gave her a Percocet, as permitted, to ease the pain and help her sleep.  She was fully alert at that point.

Tuesday morning came and I made the dried beef gravy Mom and I had agreed on for the morning.  I went in to wake her and she was incoherent and far from alert.  I decided it was time to put her bipap mask on.  The entire time I was putting it on her, I was apologizing because I know it’s uncomfortable and I know her skin is tender, so any little pressure hurts.

I went to the kitchen and had my own breakfast since it was made and she wasn’t able to eat yet.  When I walked back down the hallway, I found that she had pushed the mask off her face.  I went back in and told her she’d have to put it back on, that it was the only thing that would help her if she wanted to get up to eat.  She didn’t fight me and this time it stayed.

The mask was back on again and I waited - and waited - and waited.  At one point, an alarm went off - I didn’t know what I was hearing at first.  But, it was the bipap machine beeping - reasons unknown because I hadn’t been told there was an alarm on the machine and none of the documents they left told me anything about the machine itself - just about the mask.   As I was checking her to make sure she was breathing, the alarm stopped.  I re-checked her and left the room.

I spent most of the time either working online posting discussions or reviews or in the livingroom watching television.  I periodically checked on Mom just to see what her level of alertness was.

Then, I heard the alarm again - I now knew it was the bipap machine, so I went into her room and found that she had again removed the mask, this time entirely.  So, I shut off the machine and re-connected her to her concentrator with the nasal cannula - the two pronged hose that inserts in each nostril.  I wasn’t going to fight with her about the mask.  I left her sleeping or whatever state it was that she was in - she was still unresponsive.

Several hours later, she felt very cold.  I covered her with several light weight blankets and shut the window (which I had only opened because her concentrator puts out a lot of heat and had made her room hot).  I decided to put the mask on her again - I dis-connected the cannula and connected the oxygen hose to the bipap machine and then placed the mask on her face.  I adjusted the velcro straps yet again all the while telling her how sorry I was, but that she needed oxygen and this was the only good way to increase her blood oxygen.  She kept it on this time for over three hours.

Around 7PM, I went in to check on Mom once more.  She opened her eyes and reached out for me.  She tried to speak, so I leaned down to lift her mask to be able to hear her.  The words she spoke?  “Is it time to eat yet?”

Hurrah!!  She was awake AND hungry!!  I told her she’d been asleep all day and all night, that I had made breakfast for her, but she never woke up.  She asked me what I had made and when I told her, she immediately said that’s what she wanted.

So, I got her pills she didn’t take that morning, gave them to her, opened a can of nutrition drink and mixed a little sugar-free chocolate syrup with it to change the taste, tasted a piece of bread and reheated the gravy.  She drank half of the nutrition drink and all of the toast and gravy.  But, she didn’t indicate any pain, so I didn’t offer any Percocet.  I want to avoid giving her too much of that kind of medicine.

She just now woke up (a good sign, for sure) and is ready for breakfast.  So, I’ll be ending this and going to make her pancakes and get her a little coffee.

Have a wonderful Holiday, everyone!

I want to say that I’m thrilled that Mom is home for Christmas.  I didn’t want her to spend her holiday in the hospital.  She did that once - I didn’t want it to happen twice.  But, there are things I don’t like about this situation.

I had to put the bipap mask on my mother this morning for the first time since she was discharged.  I hate that thing, and I know she does, too.  It’s a pain in the ass to get sealed around her face to prevent leakage, and of course, the process of sealing it is painful to her because of the pushing and prodding I have to do to get it right.

But, she was somewhat incoherent this morning, her speech was slurred again, and I knew she was short of oxygen.  So, I told her how sorry I was that I had to use it, but if she wanted to feel better and eat breakfast I already had made, then she’d have to wear it awhile to build up her oxygen levels again.

Since there’s nothing I can do really while she has it on, I went to the kitchen and ate my own breakfast before coming back down the hall to check on her.  What do I see, but her struggling to remove it entirely.  Well, that couldn’t continue, so I went in and chastised her and put the damned torturous thing back on her explaining that as much as it was a pain to have on, it was the only thing that would make her feel better so she could have breakfast.  The seal still isn’t perfect, but mostly on is better than not on at all.

I am not happy that any of this has to happen.  A part of me gets angry that she didn’t stop smoking earlier, yet she talks about how easy it was to stop -  AFTER they told her she had emphysema.  Right - a bit too late, I think.

Dad always smoked, too, but not nearly like Mom.  She’d have to have a cigarette to answer the phone, to read the paper, to go to the bathroom!!  Dad cut way back after having a heart attack (caused by Rheumatoid Arthritis, believe it or not) and even expressed concern about how much Mom was smoking.  Yet, he’s been gone five years now and was seven years younger than Mom.  Go figure!

I do hate how this is going, though.  I keep hoping when her time comes, it happens in her sleep.  I don’t want her suffocating because of this damned disease.  I don’t want to watch her struggle for breath.  One of my biggest fears is suffocation or drowning - long before Mom got this, I was afraid of that.  I almost drowned twice and choked on a foreign object twice, so I think those events may be the source of my fears.  But, to see it in action in someone else - absolute dread!

So, here I sit, expressing my fears while listening to the mask do its job, however imperfectly it fits, and hope for either a miracle or a clean and quick finality.  I don’t like this.  I don’t like it at all.  And, I know I’m not alone in that.

They make it so much easier to keep the streets clear of riffraff, don’t they? It’s like they hang a neon sign announcing their inability to think to the world!

Well, here’s another one - a Detroit postal worker. You’re gonna love it!!

http://www.detnews.com/ap…

Now, you tell me….just how dumb is it to take what you’ve stolen to the very place that mailed it???? Are you that bad a postal employee that you didn’t read the RETURN ADDRESS???? Hell - it was probably the return address that gave you the clue to what was in the package and that’s where you took the stuff???

Not the brightest bulb in the box, is he? 

Mom’s coming home tomorrow or Monday.  Hospice is coming today to set up her bedroom for her arrival.  She’ll have a hospital bed and a bipap machine and a nurse will be coming 2-3 times a week to manage her care.  I’ll be given medicines to also help manage her pain while they’re gone.  Basically, it’d countdown time, although I’ve been told that she could rally and have a stretch of good.  But, her lungs are too far damaged as is her heart.  This isn’t what I want for her.  I wish to God she’d stopped smoking LONG before they diagnosed emphysema.  But, she’s was diagnosed 20 years ago.  How many live 20 years with emphysema?  She’s a very strong woman who outlived the odds.  This is not the end I wanted for her.  I know damned well this isn’t the end she wanted.  I still wish she’d just waited for me to get her walker out!!  It might not have made a difference, but she wouldn’t have injured ribs preventing her from taking deeper breaths.

Those are the words that popped into my head a few minutes ago when I went to the kitchen to find it and the dining room filled with smoke because I had left the bacon on too long unattended!! Of course, the smoke detectors didn’t go off because I had just put batteries in them and hadn’t replaced them on their clips on the walls.

And, it’s not like my father didn’t do something similar or worse, despite his being a volunteer firefighter. He turned on the pot roast one time to heat it up and went back to bed and fell asleep…..with the door closed. By the time he smelled something and remembered turning on the stove, the extreme heat plus time had turned the roast into a single cube of charcoal and the cast aluminum pot into molten lava, not to mention filling every room in the house with greasy smoke that coated whatever it came into contact with as well as causing the cat to be unconscious. Mom and I pulled in the driveway just in time to see the back door open and a pan come flying out with billows of smoke following it. When I offered to call the fire company, I was yelled at to NOT touch the phone. Oh, and as Dad was carrying the melted pot to toss out the door, the liquified aluminum spilled on the indoor-outdoor carpeting in the kitchen, burning that, and providing Dad with a nice neat hole in his foot after he stepped in it. Of course, not only would he not let us call the fire department, but he wouldn’t go to the doctor for the hole in his foot.

Needless to say, my burnt bacon wasn’t as bad as all that. But, I learned a very important lesson this morning. Bacon can actually melt into a black, gooey, tar-like substance if allowed to cook too hot and too long!!! Who knew???

As I posted earlier, I had a flat tire on Monday. On Tuesday, I found someone who came and put my spare on for me. There was a nail was in the sidewall of the tire, so I was going to need a new tire, not just a tire repair. On Wednesday, I began calling around to see if anyone had a decent used tire to fit my car. I found a place who said they had one and drove over there after noon, planning to also get a oil change and lube before picking up some groceries and going to see Mom. Here’s how it went.

I got to the garage and the guy working the counter happened to be the step-dad to my daughter’s friend. He personally took over with my car. Two hours into the wait, they’re still arguing about there being a tire on the lot that would fit my car. Finally, the big guy comes in to tell me he’s sorry, but he was wrong, they have no used tires to fit my car. So, I end up having to buy a new tire plus the oil change and a quart of tranny fluid. $108.10, to be precise, total.

Finally, I get to leave and get on my way. By now, I’m hungry, because I hadn’t eaten lunch before going over, so I swing into Taco Bell and begin smelling burning oil. Well, there is a car in front of me, so I’m hoping it’s them. By the time I get my food, I’m beginning to see puffs of smoke coming up in front of me. As I drive, there is more smoke, more burnt oil smell. I’m thinking, great - they spilled oil on my engine.

By the time I get to where I was picking up the groceries, I’m surrounded by a bluish white cloud that is pouring from under my hood. I pull over and open the hood only to see smoke everywhere, oil everywhere and the oil cap sitting neatly on top of the radiator. S.O.B!!!!! They forgot to put the damned cap back on!! God only knows how much oil I lost.

So, I call them and tell them what I’ve found and where I am, and I again wait for them to show up and evaluate the damage. Thankfully, I didn’t lose too much oil, but they did give me a couple quarts (as well as profuse apologies) just in case to keep in the car. By now, I’m frustrated, considerably late in my plans and have a headache the size of Texas, so I just went home. To hell with it. I called Mom from the house and asked how she was doing and told her how my day was. Thank God she understood. At least I have a good tire on the car and a good spare.