poetry, depression
Daily Archives: July 11, 2012
Just A Pea In A Pod

English: This was dinner last night: Morningstar Farms Tomato&Basil Pizza Veggie Burgers garnished with onion, ketchup and low-fat cheddar. The “bun” is two portobello mushroom crowns, lightly steamed. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Something has been bothering me about our greed here in our country. I can not speak for other countries as I live in the USA.
I went to the store yesterday to purchase one more box fan. Yes, I have central air, but with Al and I on medicare budgets, watching money is something I should be practicing more. I have used my air when it was triple digits, but now trying to count on fresh air and a bit lower temperatures.
So, I went to buy the same exact brand fan as I had bought in the late spring, and it was now five dollars higher. It causes me to stop and think of the greed in businesses.
Our country claims that we, the people, are in stress. Jobs are being tossed, people landing outside of their familiar work doors. Budgets being cut for teachers, causing learning disabilities upon our youth. Government still able to drive their cars, not having to pay attention to the price of gasoline, while we, the consumers, sometimes, don’t have enough pennies in our holy pockets to put five bucks in our tanks.
We have been in a drought here in Indiana for the past few weeks. We were warned that we could not have fireworks in some areas, but if you were part of a big national company, then it was alright to light the fireworks off, whether it endangers homes and people or not.
It seems to me, that summer brings higher prices of food, gasoline, motel,and hotel rooms, vacation spots in the country. Why? Money in someone’s pockets.
The fan that is five dollars higher than two months ago was raised because why? hot heat, the need for people to try to keep cooler. Let’s take advantage of their needs. Let’s raise the prices on things that consumer needs.
We are to eat healthy, this is what the media preaches at us. No more meat, potato, and vegetables. Let’s buy meat replacements like Veggie burgers, turkey hamburger, and this will keep us healthier, why? so we can live longer, give more money to the insurance companies? I don’t know, but it seems to me, being a diabetic, and also my brother, we are to purchase sugar-free foods. I don’t know about you, but if I purchase sugar-free foods so we stay healthy, I may not have the means to get both of us to our doctor appointments.
At the end of this summer, I will once again look at the clearance clothing, and try to pick up some new things and hang on to them for next summer. I am always amazed at how low the clothing can be bought for. We really are at others mercy, when we buy anything. I can get clothing for sometimes seventy-five percent off, the same clothing that was that much higher one week ago, and the store is still making a profit at this huge discount. Summer time grills will be laughingly cheap. Lawn and garden can be bought for pennies on the dollar.
I never touch politics on public blogs, because for one I am not intelligent enough to defend myself with the comments that can be thrown at me. This blog tonight comes only from a common folk. An older female, who is trying to take care of a brothers illness, keep up with the doctors visits, the co-pays, buy groceries, and pay the bills that come with living inside of our four walls.
This gripe and complaint is for no other reason, than to show that even the name without a clout behind it is smart enough to realize that we are being taken advantage of. If our country is stating daily, that money is tight, our medicare can and might be cut, then why doesn’t everyone work together, to make sure the NEEDS, not the wants are at least being able to be bought. Don’t raise the prices of the fans, just because we are suffering from triple digit heats………
Temporay
I am mad today and I know not why
My brain is dead, not thinking
Movement is more like robotic
No blinking or winking.
I have not felt like this before
I can usually fight it
But today, I move from habit
Walking from pit to pit.
This can not be the norm
There has to be a reason
Too hot, no sleep
Or maybe it’s just the season.
I have spoken few words today
Which is so not like me
No family or friends have come
My friend ended up being the TV.
I hear the bad news coming over the box
There is nothing good to hear
It helps to keep me down and out
And to keep pouring out a tear.
I hope that this sound is temporary
For I don’t like how I feel
I want change to come for me
I have asked God for a better deal.
Link
Knowing Can Be Bad
For a couple of weeks worth of nights, I have not been sleeping well at all. I have the baby monitor beside me on my night stand to hear in case Al falls or needs me, so I assume my deep rest doesn’t come easily with silently listening to this. I am not sure what else prevents me from going to nice dream lands, but I do know I sleep deep enough to have dreams, but they are usually bad dreams.
I sometimes wake up out of a dream crying, other dreams, I remember vividly, as someone has died. One dream I saw shootings that almost ended in my own death. I have always heard that if there is a dream with death involved, we should be thankful that we wake up, before the actual death, maybe because if we didn’t, it would be our own death.
For the last two weeks, Al has obtained a new habit. He walks out from his bedroom to the kitchen, now hanging on to anything to keep his weak stability, and still fixes his ready-made, heat to eat breakfasts, but as soon as breakfast is over, he cries.
No one has said anything to upset him, the TV is not on, so I can not blame some tearful scene, he just cries. It is worse when the shower girl comes to bathe him, and after a week of seeing this, I let my instincts take over, and I listened to the conversations during the shower, to make sure nothing out of the normal, was being done or said, all seemed fine.
Today, is no exception, I wake up with a semi-bright attitude, make my way to the kitchen, get his medications poured into his single-size serving cup, pour me a nice, hot cup of coffee, and place my behind in the marked out shape that has been designed into the seat of my computer chair, and he is up.
Today, the shower girl came and upon her departure, she tells me that he cried all the way through his shower. She suggested that he return to his room, to help with his tears, until he can compose himself.
While she was showering him, I made a pot of home-made vegetable soup. I browned some hamburger, then added fresh cut-up chunks of yellow squash, tomatoes, some celery, onion, carrots, small pieces of potatoes, tomato sauce, onion soup mix, spices and water. After I bid her farewell, I finished my project, and then made Al some strawberry jello with pieces of marshmallows added for his dessert today, then I went in to talk to him.
He was sitting in his recliner, with his legs stretched out and I noticed that his toes on each foot are now almost completely bent under. I have seen this coming, and have been told it is the draw of the muscles, the shrinking process. It worries me because in my mind, I can picture looking at Al’s foot and not seeing any toes. This will surely cause a balance problem with walking, as our bodies rely heavily on our toes.
He smells good from his shower, and his hair is combed neatly, but he is full of tears. I ask him why, and he says it is personal. I talk to him a little about the routine he has allowed himself to get into with crying, and I suggest he may want to try to talk about it, so it can get out of his head, then he may be able to smile a little.
It took no more prompting and he yells out that he can’t do anything right, that he is afraid of doing something wrong. After much talking, I finally figure out, that he is so upset about what the Parkinson’s is taking away from him. He has come to face it head on, that he can do nothing any longer without much fight from his symptoms. Climbing in to the shower chair, big burden, holding the wash cloth over his eyes, not easy, tremors moving the cloth and not being able to cover eyes easily anymore. Getting a drink from the refrigerator, requires much bend in the knee from just standing at the refrigerator for a moment, and deciding which drink he wants, I now see his body almost shrink half his height, from standing.
I look back to this past week, and I now remember that his boss had to feed him his ice-cream because he could not do it. Three times I have had to take Al’s shirt off, because he can no longer raise his arms above his head, and then have the strength to tug it over his head. Twice he has put his shoes on the wrong feet. Too many times, I have had to remind him to sit up as straight as he can. Each night-time snack now requires me to have to open his snack, or get his drink ready with thicket, and sometimes help him get food into his mouth. Last night at supper he could not raise his arm high enough to get the liquid from the glass into his mouth, so I helped him.
No wonder he is crying. What I am taking as a common thing, by helping him more and more, because I realize this is all due from the Parkinson’s ripping his life away from him, Al is taking it in a personal way, as being a failure, and not being able to do anything right, and afraid of making a mistake.
It doesn’t matter how many times I tell him he does everything right, or that I am only a few steps away from helping him when he needs help, the issue comes back to he is becoming much more dependent on others.
It is no wonder, that every web page you read about Parkinson’s, you see the same print, that 75% of patients go into heavy depression. The depression causes the body to go into silence, the silence brings you to a level of non-concentration. Lack of concentration brings about more falls, and falls and lying in bed or on the couch too much, removing yourself from activities, causes fluids to fill up in your lungs, which can cause pneumonia, and this is one of the number one things that takes Parkinson’s patients, not the disease, the falls and filled up lungs.
I told Al once again, that I am so sorry that he has to endure this illness. I told him, that if I could, I would wish it out of his body and toss it in the garbage can. He never looked up at me, and so I left the room, with him sitting in it, tears falling, the lights off, and the TV on low volume. I know if I went in there right now, he would be staring out the window, trying to figure out, why him, or he would be picking his skin or scratching his head. I choose to remove myself, and come here to WordPress, and blog my feelings, because here, blogging, I know there is life out there. Someone will read this, someone will comment. It gives me a glimpse in to the world on the other side of this door.