Get Me Out of the Washing Machine!


Let me out of the washing machine. I am being spun around and washed until there is no  dirt remaining. Can’t you see me in here? I am punching the safety glass, blowing more bubbles through my nose than even the soap has and yet no one rescues me.

Every day someone throws me in another dirty pile of crap. Expecting me to come clean, to know all the answers. Well listen here, I am just a plain Jane gal from the small midwest and I don’t know anymore than you do.

Take me out of the washer and place me in the dryer with some towels that will grow fluffy as they dry. I will bounce around falling gently on each soft piece of cotton. I will lay my head down and let the warmth of each slice of fabric wrap me gently up and cradle me through the timed cycle.

When the buzzer goes off, you have been warned that I am now in perfect, like-new condition once again. Hold me gently. Fold me evenly and lie me carefully on the shelf. Remember my color and please don’t grab for me first. Let me rest for a spell. Let me get my thoughts back together.

Then come for me. I promise I will be at my best. You can pick at my fiber and maybe I will not look you in the face with a dumb blank stare. Maybe I will be useful immediately when you probe me. Maybe I will be the best darn thing you have looked at all day.

july 4th skyThis was my morning friends. My brain isn’t even a wake yet and already the phone is ringing. People want answers. People ask about Al. How is his pain, does he need anything? This is great, I couldn’t ask for more. But, can you give me five seconds to wake up? Can you wait until I have had my first cup of coffee or maybe splashed some cold water on my half-closed eyes?

You have to remember that I don’t get as much sleep as I used to. Al has rough nights and sometimes isn’t asleep until wee hours in the morning.

As I had to do a complete bed change on Al’s bed this morning and also change my bedding, fix him breakfast, wash him up, get him dressed, shave, brush his teeth, pick out which car he was taking to Day Program for Show-n-tell, fix his lunch, make sure he had pop money, start the laundry, put new sheets on the beds, answer the phone, answer the cell, I was pooped. I had all this done by 8:30am.

As I left to meet with the Hospice nurse I saw an accident waiting to happen on my way to town. A very elderly man was riding a riding lawn mower. He was mowing close to the edge of a pond. He was also on a slant. He was so darn close to the edge I just had an eerie feeling that the pond would suck him in at any moment.

I actually stopped on the edge of the road and watched him a few minutes and then I prayed for his safety. I met the nurse and she asked me 20 questions. Hospice and two doctors are considering taking more of Al’s medications a way. Letting him ride out his journey in more comfort instead of continuous side-effects.

This is something that I am totally mixed up about. If you take a way his medications what will happen? Will his heart stop? Will his blood pressure soar? Will he be more comfortable? I don’t know the answers, please don’t ask me my thoughts. This is my baby brother and I have been the one all along dragging me feet in the sand.

Don’t put this pressure on me. Ask someone else who isn’t close to him. I am not a coward. I just don’t want to be the one responsible if Al dies earlier than he should. How could I live with that?

I left the meeting and went to the car wash and washed the car. It was so full of bird poo that I am surprised the paint was not starting to chip a way. I stopped at my favorite little shop that sells used consignments and bought Al some Coca Cola post cards, a coca cola battery operated radio, and some coca cola coaster. I can’t wait to give them to him when he comes home.

I collect a few things. One of them being shakers. The old-time giant salt shakers? Yes, those. I found a really old one. The lid was tin and pretty thin, and the shaker was worn itself but the word salt was still clear and the shaker is in that old yellow color. It was a good buy so I got that to add to my shelf.

That was relaxing. Although I was thinking of Al while shopping, wondering if I could find him something, I wasn’t answering questions. I was alone and it was nice.

I stopped at the grocery store and got Al more prune juice and pop. I never want to be without either one of these. My sugar dropped too low while I was in the store so the deli gave me a chicken strip and a little cup of apple salad.

I stood there eating it kicking that stupid Diabetes right in the butt. I hate being a diabetic, I really do. When I am not hungry of I am busy I don’t want to take the time out to eat. But when my legs became jello and black shadows were forming around my eyeballs, I knew I was in trouble.

Thanks to the store I made it safely on my way and now am home. Thank goodness, I have an hour and a half before Al comes home.

17 thoughts on “Get Me Out of the Washing Machine!

  1. With your diabetes you do need to look after yourself Terry also as you don’t get enough sleep. With Al’s medication: I think the less chemicals he puts in his body the better, it does not mean that he might live shorter, but as they say has less sideeffects. (This is my opinion) God in the end will decide not the tablets how Al’s way goes!

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    • I can’t go to sleep until Al does. I just don’t feel right if I do. I do my best, but my sugars have been running on the lower side lately, causing me to feel terrible. I never thought of it like this with Al’s medications, but I like what you say. Pain medications is what brings him the most comfort it seems

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  2. Oh Terry, I wish I was there to give you a big hug, and make sure you are looking after yourself. Us bloggers have to look out for each other you know.

    I can well see why you feel like you are being tossed around in a washer, just brace yourself for that spin cycle and use plenty of water softener.

    As for the meds, I can well understand your feelings. My Father has started getting really severe headaches, and is taking drugs for Ahlseimers, Type 2 Diabetes, high blood pressure, arythmia, and depression. His physicians suspect that his pain is being brought on by one or more of his pills. They keep juggling and cutting back his dosages in an effort to find out. It is a very trying process.

    I’m closing with Big hugs for you both along with a boatload of well wishes. I hope they do the trick.

    ~Cliffy

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    • you are the best friend…………you know how to make me laugh at my own situations. I like use plenty of softener. lol
      you would be a great person to run around with and have fun with, a good friend for support. thanks so much for being my friend

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      • Wow Thanks Terry, what a sweet thing to say! 🙂 I am so happy I found your blog; I’d be willing to bet we would get along famously together.
        I always find a little well placed silliness helps to pave the way. Friends help each other, right? No thanks necessary. ❤

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  3. I have been told that no one dies before their appointed time. I guess if you believe that God is in complete control that would be true.
    I also hate being diabetic Terry. Nothing nice or easy about it.

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    • I have been told that too Vickie. I also thought maybe Al was actually getting better, but I was put straight today by the nurse that I am wrong. I hate diabetes, I love to eat!!! LOL

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