TGIF

Good news to report: today mom gets her back surgery, a procedure called Kyphoplasty.  Minimally invasive, it should immediately alleviate her pain from the fracture she sustained in a fall a couple of weeks ago.

What ticks me no end is, why didn't they do the procedure 2 weeks ago?  Our family had to kick and scream and call, and call again, before doctors relented and agreed to go ahead.  In the meantime, my mother has been in extreme pain, they have been paying for 24/7 in-home caregiving and their lives have been turned upside down.  Dad has lost appreciable weight and is weary beyond belief.

Meanwhile, my ribs are still sore from the fall I took in our yard a week ago.  They are likely to be sore for awhile, but as far as I know there are no broken or cracked ribs.  I had an xray two days ago but no word from doc.  I assume this means there wasn't anything extraordinary on the images, but really, am I safe assuming this?

Gaw!

Breathe.  Ouch.  Breathe.  Ouch.  Oh, and let's not even talk about the pain when I sneeze.  Please.

Wordless Wednesday

Armistice Day, Veterans Day

 

In Flanders Fields

John McCrae

 

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row, 
That mark our place, and in the sky, 
The larks, still bravely singing, fly, 
Scarce heard amid the guns below. 

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, 
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields. 

Take up our quarrel with the foe! 
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high! 
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I have issues with the American Veteran's Day. I do appreciate the service

of those who the load in the U.S. Armed Forces.  I do.  I just hate the 

wheels of war, the tools of death and destruction, the idiots who are old 

and send the promising future to be slaughtered.  This fellow wrote 

a good column on it. 

If someone has served honorably in the military, I thank them for their service. 

TGIF

If cotton is the fabric of my life, then this is the play list of my life:

• The Band, The Last Waltz
• Otis Redding, Dock of the Bay
• Joni Mitchell, ALL
• Buffalo Springfield, For What it's Worth
• Bob Dylan, I Shall Be Released, etc. etc. etc.  
• Marshall Tucker Band, Can't You See
• Soundtrack from Woodstock, the movie
• Joan Baez, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, etc. etc.
• Linda Ronstadt, Heart Like a Wheel (the whole dang album)
• Jackson Browne, most, too numerous to name
• Eric Clapton, Bell Bottom Blues, Layla, Cocaine
• Bill Withers, Lean on Me
• Marvin Gaye, Let's Get it On, Sexual Healing

This is a very partial list.  But after this week, I've been listening to my old music a lot.  First, my mom fell and broke a vertebrae in her back.  I spent the entire night with her in the ER, sleeping when I could, lying across three plastic chair with a pillow and my lovely electric throw blanket (I know the ER is always cold, so....).  Then having to intervene when my dad, who is a control freak, fired the first care giver we hired to take care of mom at home.  I had to work some magic there, since he felt extremely upset, defensive and confused.  My experience with professional care given helped immensely.  Dad and I came to certain agreements and wrote them down for future reference.  He said I was a "Godsend."  That felt good.  All subsequent care givers have worked out well.

Of course I'm blown away by the number of states who elected republicans to Washington DC.  I must really be out of sync with the United States.  I didn't believe all the pundits prior to the election when they predicted a huge GOP win.  Oy.  I needed a couple gin and tonics on election night.  I just may stay high for the next couple of years.

After my night at the hospital, and then a night at my folks' home, it's fantastic to be back home with my darling husband.  Today we continue our quest to improve our garden: we've had soil delivered and half wine barrels and will begin to transplant trees and flowers.  Few things bring me as much pleasure as gardening.  And my husband, of course, but he is not a 'thing.'

Hope you find your pleasure this weekend.

Wordless Wednesday

Beep Goes the Night

I spent last night in an ER with my mom who had fallen a couple of days before.  She had seen her doc, had x-rays taken, was sent home with pain meds and instructions to rest and see if she felt better in a week.  No such luck.  As it turns out, she broke a vertebrae in her back and the pain became unbearable.

This was mom's 3rd fall in recent weeks.  A consequence of Parkinson's Disease.

My sis took her in and Dad was instructed to stay home and get some rest.  He had been having to lift her repeatedly at home, as she could no longer move her legs.  I took over in the evening and stayed all night.  Luckily, she slept well.  I, on the other hand, was straddling 3 plastic chairs with a pillow that the nurse gave me.  No stranger to ERs, I also brought my throw blanket with electric heat and I'm so glad I did.

Now I think I'll call my massage therapist and arrange for some work to be done.  Ouch.

Mom was released this morning and is home now with a hospital bed and 24/7 caregiver.  The family have been through this before: mom has broken both hips in the last several years.  We've learned a lot about how she handles pain and recovery, and we know enough now to have a family member present at the hospital at all times.  Mistakes get made, and in the past they have had dire consequences for mom.  Never again.  The hospital staff was trying to get us to transfer to a care facility, but we discovered than none of them would allow a family member to sit by her bed.  They said it interfered with patient care, and compromised patient confidentiality for the other patients near her.  So we said, "No, thanks."  Been down that road before.  A disaster.

As the night plodded slowly along, I was up and down to turn off alarms, close the door against a screaming patient that was making mom twitch in her sleep, drink water, go to the bathroom, read a book for awhile, give up reading a book, try sleeping on my back, my side, my other side.  And, thankfully, she dosed away, puffing out her soft little snore like she always does.

Long time readers know I have had my own hospital episodes, and as I spent the night in yet another ER, I was at least thankful that she was getting care, that I was not the one lying in that bed, and that she would be going home in the morning.  It also occurred to me that I haven't been sick in over a year.  I think that's a record.  Maybe it's the husband.  You think?  Does being happy prevent illness? 

What do you think?

TGIF

What a crazy Friday.  Another school shooting, this time in Washington State.  In our area, a couple of crazy shooters shot a police officer to death in Sacramento (near one of my favorite theaters), hijack a car, drove up the highway to the small town of Auburn, shot two more deputies (one has died) and a civilian was shot as well, but no news on that.  I've been watching the local news on and off, and it's a sad day.

But, gosh, we don't want to infringe on our constitutional right to bear semi-automatic weapons, do we? 

In better news, my husband woke up from his nap to find our Lucy cuddling his head.

She's so tiny...just 6 pounds.  She loves to nap, and if there is a warm body, so much the better.

We were out in the yard earlier, throwing a ball for our Golden, Boo, and Lucy was - pun intended - doggin' Boo as he chased the ball.  She has no interest in the toy, but loves to run with Boo and interfere with his catching is football.

Thank goodness for our pups.  They bring such joy.

Hope you find some joy this weekend.  It can be a terrible world out there and we've got to celebrate whenever we can.  xo

Life with Aging Parents

I am beside myself.  How does one break through a parent's denial?  I am speaking of my father, who is planning on taking my mother on a two week trip in May to the east coast for his high school reunion.  Why should this be so upsetting, you ask?  Mother has advanced Parkinson's, and has been in decline for 14 plus years.  She is limited in her mobility, her stamina, her strength, and is tired beyond description after a 4 hour car ride.  She requires a wheelchair, she is in a very weakened state.  And still...Dad wants to travel east with her.  And for a variety of reasons, she is unable to say no to him.  And so the planning of this insane adventure continues, with dad asking my sister to accompany them on the trip to help with her care.  I love my sister, but even she will agree she is no long term care giver.  I would be a more logical choice, but I know he is not asking me because he knows I disapprove.

I feel as if I'm lost in crazy town.  We just went through this a couple of months ago and he saw the light.  My husband, the M.D., brought up concerns about her catching an upper respiratory infection while flying across the U.S.  This, by itself, is reason enough for her to stay home.  One infection could kill her.

When he began his talk about the next trip with her I asked him if he had forgotten our previous discussions.  To my horror, he said, "I have not forgotten; I choose to ignore."

She will not speak up for herself.  She knows she cannot manage this trip.  I want to beat her, yell at her, scream and stamp my feet.

The sisters and I are hoping to involve her physician in this. 

My husband says it's sweet that Dad wants to take her.  I can't agree.  I think it's selfish.  And I think he is in serious denial about the state of her health.  I get it: he doesn't want her to be sick.  But she is.

We have until May to sort this out.  What I've tried before:

• encourage him to join a care giver support group
• seek counseling for the both of them
• I agreed to stay with Mother for the time he is away, so he can get away on his own, any time he wants to go, he has me or another sister for backup care.  I am, btw, a trained and certified home care giver.

Yet, we keep revisiting the same issues.  I am as upset with her as I am with him.  She could resolve all this now by saying, "No. I'm not up to that kind of traveling."  And honestly, if she is tortured by a 4 hour car ride, how is she going to handle a 6 - 12 hour plane trip with changes?

I'm at wit's end.  They are both being completely illogical. They've gone off the track.  What is this strange game they are playing?  Whatever it is, it's got my sisters and me in a complete state of worry.

Ultimately, what can one do if they are determined to go?  Not a thing.  And that is killing me.  Slowly but surely.  (I exaggerate here, of course. I'm channeling my inner Jewish mother or perhaps Italian Catholic mother.)

Sometimes....Life Is A Bitch.

TGIF

A special TGIF, for it is the 25th anniversary of the Loma Prieta Earthquake that interrupted the World Series, and focused the attention of the nation upon the San Francisco Bay Area.  Some 90 odd miles south, in the southern Santa Cruz mountains, was the epicenter.  Just a few miles from my house.

This photo in the Sentinel newspaper, Santa Cruz, says it all: a shocked and stunned woman cops a squat on the main street in Santa Cruz, trying to wrap her head around what has just occurred.  See the dust in the air?  So many brick buildings fell, their mortar sending up a grey cloud over the town.

While my friends were riding out the quake in their little beach cottage, I was stepping off the curb at the shopping mall when the sound of a speeding train perked my interest.  I looked out over the vast parking lot and watched as a wave of asphalt rolled toward me.  Being Californian, I adopted the surfer stance and rode the wave.  My mind was spinning as the earth was rolling: how is it that solid ground can become an ocean wave?

I was at the mall because, two days before, I had moved out of the house I lived in with my husband.  We were on our way to breaking apart our 11 year marriage and I was buying new bed sheets -- a symbolic new start.  I wondered, momentarily, if this quake was a sign that I had made a grave mistake.  Magical thinking in times of stress.

I drove into Santa Cruz to retrieve my daughter, who, at 21 months of age, had been with her father that day.  It soon became apparent that this was a bigger, wider disaster than first imagined.  I ended up staying at my old house for the night, as the car was very low on gas and no gas station was open, due to the widespread power outage.  Luckily, the husband and I were still on good terms.  We lay fully clothed, in the living room (closer to the escape route), grabbing the baby as each after shock jolted us up and out the door.  Those aftershocks were frequent and significant.  We didn't sleep a wink that night.

The weeks and months ahead were astonishing.  Nothing like normal life existed.  We were all shell-shocked, in constant emergency mode.  I had my backpack packed with essentials, along with my hiking boots, sitting next to the front door.  Helicopters bringing aid were a frequent distraction overhead.  And then there were the after shocks.  They continued for weeks.

I was grateful we were alive, had a roof over our heads, and had friends to weather the storm with.  Life was broken down to its elemental parts.  Nothing like a natural disaster to focus the mind.

And now, that little baby is a grown woman, married with a child of her own.  25 years of living under my belt, and I no longer have PTSD.  I no longer break out in a sweat when I hear a large truck or a helicopter.  I can hardly believe I experienced it.  I remember the stories of many of my friends, where they were, how they experienced it. 

What a time. 

Thank goodness it's Friday.  And we are whole.  Again.

Have a great weekend!

Wordless Wednesday

from Wordless Wednesday, Nov. 2012