Mysterious Dog and Cat Story, A True Story in My Home

DSC00324rhino 4These two animals, one fat cat, Rhino, and one tiny, miniature bull-dog are the topics of this post. The stories of these two are similar but yet different.

Rhino is a determined cat. At one point there was a mouse in the house. I had not seen him prior but Rhino discovered him. I saw this fat little creature with my flashlight. He was walking the electrical wire that was in a very narrow opening. This fat mouse was being able to get in an area that my fingers could not reach to plug the hole. It was between a vanity and the wall. The hole was a little bigger than the electrical wiring that was coming up from the outside in.

An idea seemed to work I had. Furnace filter without the card box edging was folded and shoved in the tiny width. It fit perfect from height to width. I can’t see the mouse. The  mouse can’t see me.

But Rhino knows that this mouse had been there. Rhino sits in the bathroom for hours upon end each evening waiting his nice little snack.

Now the story of the bull-dog. This was in a special case of items that I purchased from my children’s grandmother’s estate a year ago this week. It is so tiny, I am shocked that it has survived all these years.

It is the very old,  hard  plastic from years gone by. I can’t even make a dent in it with my finger nail. This bull-dog has disappeared off and on through the year I have had it. It doesn’t mean anything to me really, except the fact that it probably belonged to their kids or the parents themselves.

It is also odd that this dog appeared last night on the year anniversary of the grandmother’s death. So this is the history of these two animals. One alive and one with a mysterious past.

Now to last night. I will back this  up to three days a go. Rhino who weighs twenty-five pounds and seems afraid of nothing smaller than himself has taken to racing out of the bathroom .

Now to see this fat cat running is comical in itself, but to see him running as fast as his four paws can take him is something else. He has done the same thing three nights in a row. He runs out here. Sits right beside me with big open eyes and meows one time real loud. Then he takes off for my bedroom and hides under neath my bed and doesn’t come back out for a couple of hours.

The dog who has been missing for some time now. Which I believe was seen around Halloween of last year suddenly appeared last night. I had come out of Al’s room after checking and tending to his needs. I checked my sugar levels as I have had big issues this week with my sugars dropping too low. I fixed myself a turkey sandwich and brought it here to the computer and sat down to munch on it.

While eating it I felt something hit my hair. Sort of like when a fly lands on your head? You feel something but it doesn’t hurt. I started to put my hand cautiously up on my head and then felt something drop on my lap.

Thinking a piece of bread  had broken off from my sandwich I looked down ready to pick it up and throw it a way. It wasn’t a piece of bread or any crumb. It was the bull-dog. I sat frozen. I thought, where in the world did this come from?

Then I came out of my freeze and picked it up. I turned it over and I was just checking it out, wondering how it had fallen from my hair to my lap. Especially when I had not seen it for some time.

So the mysteries remain. I have went immediately to the bathroom after Rhino makes the mad dash and with a flash light checked out the entire room. No mouse droppings, no mouse, no nothing. The bull-dog comes to me out of nowhere.

The only common denominator between these two is that they are both animals. Anyone have any comments on this topic? I would love to hear what you have to say.

The Iron Skillet Feeling

The Iron Skillet Feeling

This morning has been terrible. I woke up to Al being awake. He had, had a BM first off and was complaining about this. I cleaned him up and wondered why he is having these so often, when he never used to even go by himself without medication.

He was crabby, very crabby. He was complaining about his arm, his butt and his ear. I checked his ear and it was bleeding. Just yesterday it was completely…

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The Iron Skillet Feeling

This morning has been terrible. I woke up to Al being awake. He had, had a BM first off and was complaining about this. I cleaned him up and wondered why he is having these so often, when he never used to even go by himself without medication.

He was crabby, very crabby. He was complaining about his arm, his butt and his ear. I checked his ear and it was bleeding. Just yesterday it was completely healed. Now it was crusty and white illness was draining from inside his ear.

I doctored it the best way I know how. He had a temperature of 104.2. I immediately gave him his medication. He was stuttering and I couldn’t hear a word he was trying to say without playing the guessing game, which I did.

When I watched his lips I realized they were not moving. I asked him to  open his mouth for me and it looked like a giant spider web. The infection was inside his mouth and it was gluing his lips together.

Once again I swabbed his mouth to allow his lips to move. His eyes were draining. He had a sore on  his buttocks. His one arm was slightly covered by a throw blanket and he was complaining about this. I uncovered it. He wanted the fan on so I turned it on low.

He wanted breakfast so I gave him some pudding and he ate two bites and wanted no more. I think Al is so miserable that he doesn’t have any choice but to complain. He asked why there is no nurse here.

I told him it wasn’t her day to come. He asked where staff was and I said we don’t have much staff here any longer and that he would have to learn to be content with me more often.

He asked why no one wanted to come help me and I had nothing to say. I wanted to pipe up with because you and I have leprosy, but I kept my big mouth shut. I got a call from the caregiver saying the two bosses want to come over today and shadow or train watching us take care of Al.

Now here I got a little snotty to myself I guess. For one, these two bosses are never going to come here and work. They are office people and have their own responsibilities. For another reason, these are the two that sprang the unannounced visit the other day.

I told staff I don’t give a hoot. It is a bad morning. I feel like I am going to have a panic attack. Al is in a crabby mood. Tell them I don’t care if they come, and if they don’t come, it’s alright too.

A thought entered my mine at that very moment. I can’t do this anymore. I am going to be forced to place Al in a nursing home. He is miserable. Then I started fighting, trying to stay strong.

I had been practically begging Hospice to let me give Al a special cream for extreme pain. They have continued to tell me no. Letting me know that most care givers don’t apply it right. I told her I had used it with other patients and was very familiar with it. She ignored my plea.

I decided to call  Hospice after leaving Al’s room. There was not one nurse available. I ended up being forwarded to the administrator nurse where I got a voice recording. She did call back and pretty much said, ” I will give his primary nurse a call. She is off today, but she is familiar with his case. I just think his illness is too rare and I can’t help you.”

Wow, I thought, the head hauncho doesn’t even know how to handle Al’s MSA, this makes me feel real comfy. This regular nurse informed me yesterday when she was here that she wasn’t going to be coming tomorrow either; that a replacement would be sent. This seems to be a regular thing week after week. She is rarely here on Fridays. I feel like it has something to do with the fact I bitched about wanting a Hospice visit three times a week instead of two.

She called me about twenty minutes later and insisted that I give him this one medication she had brought. I fought it for two reasons. One, it makes him wired and he doesn’t sleep. Two, I am the only care giver today minus two hours and I didn’t want to have to fight this whole, ugly mess all day.

I asked her to please get me the cream. She said no. She said Al was too wet and too oily. I said, ” What? He hasn’t sweated for a couple of months or so.” She then said, ” His skin is too oily, so the answer is no.” She said his Bm’s are from his illness, just part of the process. She said there is nothing more to be done about his ear.

I felt defeated, slammed to the floor, helpless with nowhere to turn. Here I have a brother who is miserable as all get out. A high fever I am fighting. His bed sores, his body locking in place. His ear bleeding. His mouth a cob web, and I get two hours of staff help so Al can have his bath, and not one damn nurse will come out nor help me.

I am so sorry my friends. I just feel like I have been beat down with an iron skillet and I can see nothing more anymore but black all around me and huge gobs of gloom.

iron skillet

He is Talking

It has been a little nerve-wracking and a little stressful here since last night. Al has taken to talking on a regular basis again. Oh, it’s a good thing to hear his voice again, let me assure you. There are problems with it though.

It seems like feelings and thoughts he has had for some time have now surfaced. He wants to make sure everything he has not been able to get across to me and others…

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