Daily Archives: October 8, 2012
Trip Gone Bad
48
I try to be nice and thoughtful in general, so I decided to take Al out to supper to the DQ. They have the Pumpkin Blizzards now, and I had a coupon plus they had a special going on for 2 double cheeseburgers for $4.00. I knew that he had not been out of the house for the weekend, plus he is still upset for the fact that as he says, he is not healed yet, so why is the shower girl and therapy people not wanting to keep coming here.
The office people from the Home Health Care told me this morning, that they were going to see what was going on, which to me, did not make me feel real secure, because if the office doesn’t know, then who does? All day the phone never rang, so I don’t know if anyone is coming back this week or not. I gave Al his shower this morning, but I should not have to do that part of his personal care, and I still don’t appreciate it hours later, that no one called me prior, and I just received a text message at 9am, saying the shower girl would not be back, and his shower was scheduled for 10:30. Great big notice you gave me, thank you very much!
So we went into the DQ, and he seemed happy about getting his blizzard and his food. The girl brought the food over to our table and we started to eat, and then he asks me if we can go to Wal-Mart to get him some slipper socks. I just had mentioned that this morning as I was putting clean clothes into his dresser drawers, that we should get some more now that the weather was turning colder. I told him that we could not go to Wal-Mart, as it was going to be dark in about forty-five minutes, and the deer are out now in early evening. I do not like to drive after dark, because I guess old age tends to make the eyesight worse, and I also did not want to get slammed by a deer.
He started to cry and when he gets upset his tremors pick up more speed, so I said how about we stop at the Dollar General store on the way home. I can run in and get them much faster than going to the big store. His reply was no. I said that I thought he wanted to get slipper socks and he stated yes he did, but he only wanted to get them from Wal-Mart.
Knowing him as well as I do, I knew he had a side purpose for wanting to go. He wanted to look at the toy section for more big cars. Now these cars are cool, I admit, but they also run from $15.00-$24.00. I have been working with him on a goal that he can only have these expensive cars once a month. When he didn’t want me to stop at the smaller store, I knew right a way it was the car section that was making him want to go to the larger store.
For the second time I explained quietly and nicely, that the answer was no. He began to raise his voice and cry harder, and the tremors were full force by now. I hate to say it folks, but I was beginning to get mad, not upset, mad.
If it is your young child throwing a fit, you can pick him up and remove him from the scene, but a big man, I can not do this. I told him to hush, to knock off the tears, that his game of throwing a fit was not going to work. I reminded him of where we were, and that people were staring at him, and reminded him that he didn’t like people to see his tremors so I was sure they did not want to hear him or see his tears.
He continued this bad behavior all through our meal. I snapped at him and told him that I was done being nice, that I was thinking of him when we decided to go out to eat, and I did not appreciate this bad treatment. So he stared at me with every bite he took. I was so angry at his fit, that I wanted to grab my supper and head for the safety of my car, but instead I snapped once more, and I picked up my ice water and told him if he did not cut the tears and zip his lips, I was going to have to splash him with my ice water, and then he says too loudly, that is abuse!
I got up and left my supper sit, and went to the car. I could see him from the front door as he sat there and ate, and he kept shaking his head back and forth, at the bad treatment he thought I was giving him. He is lucky, because what I wanted to do was pick him up and give him a spanking. Yep, I sure thought that. I don’t care how old he is, you don’t throw temper tantrums in public, when I am with you.
As I was sitting in the car watching him and waiting for him to finish, I looked up at the ceiling of my car and silently cried out, please someone help stop what is happening. I am tired, someone help me. If anyone listened nothing happened. He finished eating and put his jacket on, and came to the car and we came home. He is in his room sulking and crying and I am healing myself through blogging.
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Weekly Writing Challenge, Oct. 08,2012–Parkinson’s Disease and Life
Bleeding Heart
Unexpected surprises come my way
And can be upsetting to my day.
The care that I give to others
Is more than I received from my own mother.
Parkinson’s Disease is a game in its own
The seed that is planted has been made and sown.
Tears and depression and too much pain
Is something we deal with and there is no gain.
Comforting words is what I can give
In hopes that he will want to live.
He tells me that he wants to die
He’s in so much pain and he asks me why.
He used to be so big and strong
He worked so hard the whole day long.
Now he can barely stand at all
And sometimes I have to see him fall.
His tremors cause him to be too weak
And sometimes I have to go and seek.
A place to cry as this breaks my heart
To see his body falling too apart.
You fill your memory box with all you can
Of the child you see, that was once a man.
You are forced to take away his pride
While you bathe him daily at his side.
You introduce Depends to him today
Knowing that there is no other way.
You cut up his food and sometimes you feed
You watch him cry and your heart does bleed.
I have come to the conclusion that I can do
Nothing more, so I turn to you.
I pray oh God, that you heal this man
Please heal him Lord, any way you can.
If you must take him from me today
Please have mom and dad standing near his way.
Let him feel peace and no sorrow no pain
Let him forget what is happening today.
Terry Shepherd
October 08,2012
This was written for a writing challenge for:
I Can Do This Without Looking
Ok, I am not going to throw myself on the floor and cry and say naughty words and kick my feet and stomp my fists. I am not going to call the President because he doesn’t care, and this would not seem an out right emergency to him, just to me. I won’t even look up the phone number of the city council here or the aging and disability center, because I have tried to get help from these long time locals in the past.
I will act like a lady, even though at this moment I feel like the town drunk, just going into Andy Taylor’s city jail, getting ready to open the oh so familiar jail cell, to sleep my drunken stupor off, only to find a stranger lying in my bed.
I woke up from a very restless night. Tossing and turning, hearing Al’s tremors most of the night. My eyes told me they were tired and they were begging to close, but my mind would keep telling them to forget it. My mind was on an artificial caffeine high, and would not rest.
When I put my feet down on the chilly floors, I knew it was time to turn the heat on. The chill over night was to be 34, and although, I knew I could just put layers of clothes on, I convinced myself that it was not really that cold in here. Then I walked into the living room, where several souls must have died during the night, because that room was cold.
I could not see my breath, so it wasn’t too bad, so I flicked on the electric fireplace, and went to the kitchen and turned on the oven for a spell leaving the door open. You see, it is a fight of the mind each fall. When do I turn the heat on? I know that once I turned that switch from cool to heat, I have lost the war. The heat will remain on until spring, even if we do have a few warm up days ahead. The switch glues itself to the heat side, and no matter what I try, it will not go off until it sees the buds on the trees, and then it loosens it grip, and I am able to once again turn everything off until mother nature’s heat kicks in.
So, I know that my warming our home up and getting the chill out of here, can be done in about fifteen minutes time, and if the sun doesn’t warm up the air, I can leave the fireplace on, but I think that I am going to have to turn the heat on here this week.
So, after this battle of the mind game is over, I wonder in to see if Al is awake and he is. I am hoping for a better day, as yesterday he was in bed all day except for meals. He was awake and up and he felt so good, I think, that he left me a welcome gift of a total bed change. Wow! Talk about excitement! I had not even had my first cup of coffee yet, and I got to change the bed! By the way, don’t ever pray for excitement, you may get more than you bargained for!
I changed the bed and started the one load of laundry for today. I emptied his commode pot, with the one dead fly in it. Gross! Yuck! It’s alright stomach! You won’t throw up because you haven’t eaten yet. Just don’t look and get it dumped and cleaned out. There you did it, and it wasn’t so bad now was it?
I then came out here and poured my first cup of coffee and set down at the computer and something told me to check my cell for missed phone calls or text messages. Who ever or what ever told me to do this, knew that I needed to look. Thank you to who ever planted that thought, because, there was a text message waiting for me.
It said and I quote, I thought that this coming Friday was the last day for me coming to give Al his showers, but it was last Friday. I am so sorry, but I won’t be there, have a nice life.
WTF? No shower girl? I have to give my own brother a shower and see his nakedness? Where was the courtesy in all this? Why didn’t you tell me last Friday, that you knew that this coming Friday was going to be your last day? Let alone, you say you found out this morning and are not even coming today, Monday! Where was the phone call to tell me ear to ear? A text message? How rude!
I called the office while my hot coffee started to become lukewarm, and they told me they were going to check on this whole thing, that as far as she knew, everything was going to be final this week. I tell her with my nicest fakiest smile, that this is such wonderful news and I am so thankful that they have let me in on their secret, so that I can place an ad in the newspaper and try to find a replacement for a shower girl.
I get off the phone and Al looks at me and the tears begin, and he says, they think that I am getting better? I don’t feel better? You are going to give me my showers? I tried to rattle off the basic explanation of what hopefully is some error for today, but it didn’t work. Al went to his room to sulk at the thought of his sister giving him his shower and the lack of social interaction with the therapists.
I am done writing for now, as I have had my little bitch session, and hearing no phone ring, or text alert go off, and no doorbell, I guess I will go give him a shower.
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