Daily Archives: April 29, 2014
I Am Frightened and Confused
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I am worried. I had different things to worry about when Al was here. Now priorities have changed. I have to go to work. I can only work part-time if I want to keep my small disability check. I can work 20 to 25 hours per week.
I didn’t give it too much thought. I have always been a caregiver, so I guess I will remain one; but the phone doesn’t ring from my placed ad. I applied at a place my…
I Am Frightened and Confused
I am worried. I had different things to worry about when Al was here. Now priorities have changed. I have to go to work. I can only work part-time if I want to keep my small disability check. I can work 20 to 25 hours per week.
I didn’t give it too much thought. I have always been a caregiver, so I guess I will remain one; but the phone doesn’t ring from my placed ad. I applied at a place my brother was affiliated with for years yesterday and got an interview this afternoon.
Part of me was excited. The other part of me just wants to get the hell out of dodge, so to speak. I really don’t want to go back into care giving. Taking care of my dad and then Al has about finished me up. Another issue is I am not positive I am ready to go to work emotionally, but a girl has to eat right?
I went to the interview. It seemed to go fine until I had to explain that I didn’t want to work late evenings nor could I work forty hours. It went down hill from there. I told the lady I was more interested in days. I explained with my Diabetes I do not do well on third shift. It messes with my numbers too much, plus I know that with my age I don’t do well not getting my sleep. She pretty much told me she would keep it on file.
A part of me was fine with this. I hate to say it, let alone admit it on paper, but I don’t want to work with disabled clients anymore. I would love to have a job where there are people I can talk to and I don’t want to see sickness and death for a long time. But what’s a girl gonna do? To help spread awareness for MSA or to help an ill person, I can do this. To work daily with mental challenges, I am tired. Al was a challenge and I just don’t know if I really want to do it again.
I keep telling myself, Terry, at the age of 60 you should have done better in your life. You have no mate to help you out. You don’t have a bank account to squeal about. Girl, you are on your own and you better take what you can.
But I can’t see good enough in the dark to drive. This is why I told the lady I couldn’t do evenings. It wouldn’t look good to go to work and then not be able to drive home because of darkness.
There are times I feel like I have so much to offer to the world. 23 years of medical training. 7 years experience with MSA. A published book and a second one in writing. Yet here I sit, unemployed, not having the foggiest idea where I fit in.
I pay my bills when they arrive, but I want to eat and be able to enjoy some type of social life sometimes. Maybe I am just asking too much. After all, who wants a disabled, 60-year-old gal, when there are so many young people out there fresh out of high-school or college.
I can’t use my hands for a long period of time, and I can’t walk much due to Neuropathy in my feet. I am scared my friends. I must be good at something. I should have something to offer at my age. I am so confused.
On the way home on one side of the town was clouds and on the opposite side of town was sun. I snapped a photo of each side coming home. When I looked at them both as I placed them on here the two reminded me of me. Two different sides, a little dull, a little bright. Someone who doesn’t know which way to go or what door to walk in where the person on the other side will say, Yes, you are hired.
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My Brother, His Life and MSA, Chapter 18
My Brother, His Life and MSA, Chapter 18
Life seemed to settle down into a routine. Al worked Monday through Friday. I had breakfast for him, packed his lunch and had supper prepared when he came home. On the weekends he had to take care of himself. I made sure there were easy foods for him to microwave and eat while I went to my job taking care of another couple.
It wasn’t easy but I was able to juggle the Estate of our father, taking…
My Brother, His Life and MSA, Chapter 18
Life seemed to settle down into a routine. Al worked Monday through Friday. I had breakfast for him, packed his lunch and had supper prepared when he came home. On the weekends he had to take care of himself. I made sure there were easy foods for him to microwave and eat while I went to my job taking care of another couple.
It wasn’t easy but I was able to juggle the Estate of our father, taking care of Al and doing my own work. Days turned into weeks and then the bomb fell for Al. I received a phone call from his job.
The conversation was pretty one-sided. I was informed to come in the next morning; we all needed to talk. Al was aware that something was going on. I think he had been having some issues at work. Since he ran on routine he knew he was at work, but I knew he was aware he was not the same after his heart attack.
The next morning Al went to work as usual. I sat looking out the windows watching deer run through the field as I drank my coffee and pondered on what the meeting was about. I had my suspicions. I could see that Al just wasn’t back to his normal self after his heart attack.
I finished my coffee and went and got myself presentable and then left for town. I turned on the oldies station, trying to deter my mind from bad thoughts about what was about to be said.
Reaching the parking lot and walking through the front doors I was greeted by Al’s boss and other people who knew Al in production. I was guided into a meeting room where Al was already seated. Coffee was offered and I politely turned it down. I wanted to get this out in the open.
The office people smiled at me and then the conversation began. ” We all love Al. He is just a real joy to have here. He will do anything that is required with a smile, but we have noticed that since these few weeks have gone by, Al can not get his speed back up.”
Others chimed in with affirmation that yes, they had also noticed. Then Al’s closest boss started tearing up and stated,” No matter how we feel about Al, we still have rules and regulations to follow here. We have given Al every opportunity, and through no fault of his own, his health will just not let him do his job properly. We must let him go.”
Al understood this and instead of getting mad like I thought he would, he broke down and cried. Others followed his lead and soon everyone was crying and telling Al how much they loved him and would miss him. Each of them had some type of memory gift from the factory and then Al and I were led to the front door.
We walked to the car in silence. Once driving back home Al made one comment. ” I am just plain dumb. I am retarded, just like dad said I was.” I wept and tried ti reassure him that he was nothing of the kind. I told him we will make it through this bud, we will make it through this.
Al loved milkshakes so I offered to stop by his favorite place, Dairy Queen and get one. He turned that down and instead ordered a Blizzard. A mixture of Reese’s Pieces and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
It sounded really good to me, so I got a small one and of course he got a large. He never went back to shakes again. It was a blizzard and the same type from that day on. We went down to the park at the lake and sat on the picnic benches with our treats. Neither of us talked. We just watched the ducks and looked out over the water.
Throwing our cups away we drove home. Al went to his room. I tried to talk him into coming out in the living room and watching TV, but he had been trained to go to his room and so he wouldn’t budge.
As I tinkered around the kitchen I thought about choices I may have. There didn’t seem to be any choices. I knew in my heart that the right thing to do was to move in with Al full-time. Any ideas I had previously of moving Al into his own apartment where disabled adults lived I tossed out the window.
Al didn’t give me any argument. In fact, he went with me to my apartment and helped carry things out to my car. It was a small apartment. I had moved there after leaving my husband. I called it my Box Apartment, because it was so tiny.
It didn’t take Al and I very long to get everything finished and by dusk, I was moved in. I have to admit I felt a little uncomfortable. This was our parents home. I had grown and left the nest. Now I was going to be sleeping in my parents bedroom.
After making sure Al was settled for the evening I went to my parents room and unpacked my clothing and bathroom supplies. I squeezed in my knickknacks between mom and dad’s things. I did my best not to upset Al’s routine. I left him alone to watch his TV and do his own thing.
I didn’t need to upset Al though. He was confused. He thought he was a failure. He had been fired as he stated. No he had no money, he thought. How was he going to go to his auctions? How was he going to have gas money?
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Ever since Al died and I left for a week, wild creatures decided to throw a party inside my house.
Who I am 