Figuring It Out
Maybe, I know for me I have one vision that I dream about and one that just pops into my head when ever it feels like. One of them I know it is very possible that I saw this area in my year in Germany. The other vision I am not sure if I lived it or I wished it.
The one I think about often only comes to me in my dreams. A red-circle, brick walking path. I always see the same dream each time. A cement round bench with a big shade tree in the middle.
I always vision Germans walking and riding their bikes. Sunny days with my first-born in her over-sized carriage sitting on the bench smiling and enjoying my view. I don’t actually remember this place in my waking hours. I don’t ever remember being a way from my husband long enough to have that much time to myself.
I can remember taking her for many walks, strolling the store fronts, a time of peace and happy times. Oh don’t get me wrong, I loved my husband very much. He was in the military and in the warm months I took her on many walks; but being by myself and not doing for others was always a joy I cherished.
The other vision I have but, usually in my waking hours is the little white house with the picket fence. It looks pretty much like this photo I borrowed from the internet.
I can’t imagine I ever got to live in something this nice and adorable with the kind of life I had as a very young child. I have a sneaky feeling that the child in me wishes that I had lived that simple life.
My parents were young when I was born. Being young doesn’t make a good mix for remaining married and this was my case. Parental kidnapping and divorce, fights and too much of the bottle makes me believe that house never existed.
I don’t sit and ponder on this, but just like today I was sitting here eating my breakfast. Prior to that I was feeding Al and changing his bedding, bathing him and brushing my teeth. I can remember thinking I wish I could eat my breakfast too.
When I made my breakfast and was sitting here at the computer with Hallmark Christmas movies on, and eating my eggs and toast, the little white house appeared in my mind once again.
I decided I needed to figure out what it was that brought that image back again and again. Now that I look back at my words I have some fuzzy ideas. It must have something to do with that vision of Germany. A mixture of a happy childhood, comfort of a home with happy faces all around. It makes sense.
But accepting what happened as a child and letting the visions drop seems to be another issue. I realize also that when I face these visions I find myself with tears of sadness. I guess for what once never was, and hoping it did exist.
I didn’t ask to be born or taken from my home. The only time I got to decide and make choices for me alone was when I moved out from the family home. When we are young we see so many scenes in different views.
When we get older we get to go back. With age and habitual living we sometimes have regrets. For me I have regrets of a life I had no choices to make. I do see the positive though in my past life.
I worked much harder at letting my children see that I loved them. Telling them how I feel about them is high on my priority list. Spending time on the phone or in person is so important to me.
So I think in the end, a little tidbit of more information is these thoughts, visions and dreams come when I am feeling the most alone.
Alright, now that I have figured a little more of me out, what do I do with this new information? I don’t know yet.
I wanted to let you know that this morning when I got Al up he struggled. In fact he has struggled all day. It is as if his brain isn’t connecting to anything he wants to do. This includes eating, lifting his arm to his lips, standing, holding his head up. Sleeping restfully, sitting up, lifting his feet.
Although I am very thankful that we have only had to add one extra medication today, and out of what he can not do today, he could smile at me. He could eat with my help. He could drink with my help. He could stand with my help.
His attitude was very quiet most of the day. He slept quite a bit, but there was not the terrible misery that was there yesterday.
All the prayers were heard and healing of spirits were transferred right into our house and into Al’s body. God is good.
An hour before supper he wanted to listen to his audio cassettes. They were a gift to him from the minister at Hospice. He listens to one side at a time with his head hung and his eyes closed, but I know that deep inside of him he is listening.
I have to add here that with Al’s mentally challenged mind he knows that he went to church and Sunday school on Sundays. So the only day he will listen to these cassettes is on Sundays. Most of us would find that a bit odd, but I get it, because I understand how Al thinks.
He wanted to listen to Dr. Charles Stanley during supper so I turned it on. It was on the topic of trusting God. Al began to get teary-eyed a little bit. He just hates making a mess on the floor with his food. He gets so embarrassed when he can’t eat properly, that sometimes he will cry and curse his illness.
I used to tell him to stop talking like that but I don’t any longer. I let him vent and then I explain once again that the illness has no mind or brain and that Al has no reason to feel guilty for having this.
He was almost done eating and he looked at me with these big tear drops in his eyes. I asked, “what is it bud? I told you not to worry about the food on the floor. It helps my waist line getting down there and cleaning it up.”
He said, ” Mr. Stanley said that if you trust God he will always hear your prayers and answer them.”
“Yes, all we have to do is believe in him and keep him close to us.”
” Then I must not trust him enough, because he won’t get rid of this stupid sickness.”
“Well bud, you just tell God that you are tired and he will know what to do.”
I got up from the table and went to my bathroom and wiped my tears and blew my nose. http://youtu.be/EeeZr6uIHj4
Friday night when Al came home from his Day Program I knew almost instantly it was not going to be a good night for him. I fixed him supper but he didn’t eat very well. After supper I did the usual partial bath for him. He couldn’t brush his own teeth, so I did it for him.
He did not want to sit in his chair and watch TV. He wanted to lay down. I put him to bed, and turned the over head fan on and the box fan. I left him alone for a while. I didn’t worry because I knew that he would be up at 8 to start watching his favorite TV programs.
Well 8 came and I didn’t hear any horn sounding so I went in and he refused to get up. He said he was just so tired. I hated letting him sleep, but that is my old-set mind speaking. My new mind is thinking, let him sleep, he is tired and sick.
So he went back to sleep. At 9:30 I had to wake him up so he could take his bedtime medications and eat his snack. I just knew he would want to get up for this part. He loves his bedtime snack. Last night it was the new Hostess snack.
But no, he didn’t want to get up. He insisted on staying in bed. So like a good sister I kept my mouth and mind thoughts shut. I went and got his medications, snack and diet coke ready and brought it to him on a tray like a king would deserve.
He did eat and I changed his brief and he went back to sleep until this morning when I had to wake him up.
This morning was no better except for the fact I did get him up. His entire bed was wet, and he needed to be washed up good. I fixed him pancakes and two sausages for breakfast. Along with this he had a glass of prune juice and milk.
He ate half of his meal and then he began sweating. He sweat so bad he looked like he had just climbed out of the shower and hadn’t dried off yet. His breathing became louder and he sounded like he was gasping.
I always think this is due from his head laying on his chest while he is eating. I talked to the doctor and nurse and they said at this point if they put a brace on his neck to hold his head up the food would go ahead and slide down his lungs, making him aspirate. They said right now the bent head is saving his life.
He has done this gasping two more times this week but then it stopped. Today it hasn’t stopped. I took him in the bathroom after he said he couldn’t eat all his breakfast and washed him up good.
He had goosebumps all over him. His skin was so cold. As soon as I dried him off the sweat returned. His breathing got worse as he stood so I could change his brief again. After breakfast I asked him if he wanted to sit out here with me for a while or sit in his lift-chair.
He said he wanted to go back to bed. Sadly I put him back to bed. I turned on both of his fans from his sweating but he said I was freezing him, so I turned them off and covered him up.
His tremors became so acute, and his sweating and breathing had been doing their thing for an hour now. After placing him in bed I called Hospice.
She said, “unfortunately this is part of his illness. He is just declining. You know the emergency medication you have there for him? Please use it now. We will call back later to see how he is. There is really nothing more we can do at this point but keep him comfortable.”
I hung up desperately wanting a fix through her answer but got nothing but the emergency medication to slow down his body inside. I gave him a dose and within ten minutes he was asleep and breathing normal once again.
I still deal with giving him these big time medications but I have to get over it and past it. They help him, I can see this. We were supposed to go to a little consignment shop today but he told me he didn’t want to go. He started to cry and I asked him, “Why are you crying?”
“Because I messed up our plans. This disease just ruins everything.”
“No bud, it is alright. You didn’t ruin anything. What is important is that you and I are together today. We will get through this together. Don’t you worry.”
His crying stopped. I have taken the time to stop and write this but now I must mop the floor in the kitchen where he had an accident and take a quick shower. Talk to you later.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt
If you could get all the nutrition you needed in a day with a
pill — no worrying about what to eat, no food preparation — would you
Photographers, artists, poets: show us NOURISHMENT.
I am the biggest skeptic when it comes to putting something in my mouth. Even food is beginning to become a culprit as more food products are put together for quick sales and big bucks without the proper inspections.
I am weird about eating foods that are not manufactured or grown here in my own part of the world, I get afraid. I know it is wrong, but seeing people die from improper food storage or sprayed chemicals bothers me.
I guess I am more than weird, I am strange. One time I ate some macaroni salad at a family reunion. I assume the salad was left too long out in the sun and I got food poisoning. I think it was worse pains than childbirth.
Now if I don’t know for sure about these types of food, I don’t eat it. I would rather be safe and not put that good-looking bite in my mouth.
When I became a diabetic the doctor was putting me on pills that lowered my sugars too much. I remember one time I was taking a walk down the street and boom, I passed out right in front of a business. This happened a few times, so after that my brain recognized new pills as danger and I find it very hard to take new pills.
I have to fight and fight to take it and will usually have to arrange to take it when I am going to be around other humans. Just in case something would happen. If I am safe for a couple of hours after the big swallow, then I am fine every day after.
Taking red and blue pills, replacing eating would be good and bad. If I can get the pills down my throat, I may be healthier, and less fat. On the bad side, I would have to know and recognize the company very well producing the pills.
If I am going to take a pill, I want a pill filled with natural foods. I don’t want fillers or any chemicals. If I am going to pop a pill will it have the flavor of a nice piece of chocolate, or taste like blah. I don’t want some company throwing together something and selling it as prime when in fact it is crap. They make big dollars and I get ill from lack of nutrition.
The good thing would be balanced diets each meal. The strange question entering my mind would be, will there be no more gas, farts and number 2’s in the bathroom? Will my insides go stale from lack of use? Will I just shut down?
Hey, we have to look at this new idea from all sides. The serious and the funny parts. We may pop a colorful pill, but life moves on with or without us. Hey, maybe my digestive system would dry up and I would finally lose that extra fat I carry in my abdomen. I could lose an easy ten pounds.
My skin would be softer, my eyes would look brighter. I would spend less time in bed, have more energy. Maybe I could take off ten years on my looks and find me a nice hot guy to date.
Well there are pros and cons to this issue. I will have to investigate the company, consider the benefits for me personally and then listen to the media. We all know how informed the media is, right? LOL
It could work, maybe, possibly. Now the worst case scenario would be, what if I was not allowed decisions? What if the decision is taken a way from me like other possibilities are being taken a way from we the consumers? Would I be forced to give up the fork and spoon? Maybe I would be spiteful and fight back, but then maybe I would die. Sounds bad doesn’t it. I fought the war and I lost. A lot to think about here all about the pills. Maybe it would be different if they were red, white and blue pills. Patriotic? Good for us? Made local? Hmmmmm
Apology, Crash and Burns
First I want to apologize. I know I have not done a good job on commenting to your remarks. I want to, but I have been so busy I just plain haven’t had time. I hope you don’t think me rude, or worse yet, leave my blog. I promise I am doing the best I can.
You know the other day when I posted the big bout of laughter I had? It is a good thing because come Tuesday and worse yet today, I have placed the laughter on the back burner again.
I want to laugh, I swear I do, but how can I? How can I pretend that life for some isn’t grand? Others so close to me are truly suffering. Even if I wanted to, I can’t do it right now.
I got a call this morning about 9am. Guess who? The nursing home, yes you are right. Al had fallen. These seem to be old words to me anymore. Just dip your hands into the water bucket and pull out the letters FALLS.
This time he fell in the bathroom. He was impatient. He had gotten his wheelchair stuck in a position that he needed help. The nurse was in the room but she was giving Al’s roommate his insulin. She couldn’t just drop everything and go help him. She says she told him to hang on a second, but he thought he could do it himself.
He tried to stand and couldn’t take one step. He fell hard to the floor. He damaged ribs, received a couple of lacerations,and broke his glasses.
I went to the administrator and told him I wanted Al off the Exellon Patch now. He grinned at me and asked,” Do you want staff to just get him ready in the mornings and then bring him to the dining room so he can watch TV?”
“Will he get any better observations this way?”
“No, no one is in there. Everyone is working to get staff up.”
“Then I hardly see how that can be beneficial to Al.”
“I want that Doctor R. taken off of his case. I didn’t ask for her or send for her. In fact, I don’t even know anything about her. She won’t give out her phone number. I don’t even know if she is from in town.”
“Well she didn’t end up being here without your permission.”
“Excuse me, she did end up here without my knowledge. She was brought in by your facility when you decided to place Al in isolation. I have argued the point of putting him on drugs that could make him worse, but I lost. So much for my guardianship.”
“If you don’t remove the drug and her from my brother’s care, I will be forced to go to the public phone and call the State Board of Health. You are not his doctor nor do you have permission to be calling in whom ever you wish.”
Smile from his face leaves.
Instead of answering comments last night, I had done some heavy-duty research on this new drug. I discovered that it can cause worse heart problems. Oh ,my, Al is a heart patient with CAD. It also causes fatigue, loss of appetite, and dizziness, plus UTI’s.
“Now because of this stupid drug I didn’t want him on, he has fallen and hurt himself this time. He has had to have a sterile Catheter take, and x-rays. I am now also responsible for purchasing him more glasses.”
Still no smile.
I stood up and shook his hand like a nice lady. I gave him my biggest smile, then I trotted out of his office. About a half an hour later, the Psyche Doctor called for me. Our conversation went like this.
“I hear you don’t want me on the case any longer.”
“It isn’t that you are not a good doctor, I just don’t want a shell for a brother. I explained to you with great intense that I didn’t want you putting him on anything that would destroy who he is, but you ignored my words. So yes, I want you gone and I want the patch Dcd.”
“Alright, no problem. I wish you luck when you take him home.”
“It will be rough, but it will be him and me. I understand where he is coming from. You don’t know him, and I will be able to keep a closer eye on him.”
For now friends, I have limited power over his food intake. When he comes home, I can do a better variety. Usually what they offer Al is fried chicken, or baked fish or a hot dog. Always red beets or green beans, glazed carrots, or Brussel sprouts. Cinnamon apple rings, ice-cream, once in a while cake, or fruit cocktail. It doesn’t waver much from this menu in the seven months he has been there.
Today he didn’t eat half of his lunch. I know that Al has cut way down on his eating but yet he gained two pounds. I am going to chalk this up to Edema in his feet.
After lunch I ran to the eye vision place and had his glass frames replaced. When I got back I planned to visit but he was asleep and I couldn’t wake him. I left his new glasses and whispered goodbye.
Now I am home and with me I brought most of Al’s cars he had at the facility. I asked my son if he could come down and find some more space for shelving. I need to put these cars somewhere, and his closet is full.
My son said maybe tomorrow because today is his birthday. Well crap on me. I had a cookout and birthday party so to speak on Monday and gave him money, but I guess I forgot to say the big words, Happy Birthday to him. Even at 33 years old my kids still need to hear those important words. I did it, I said it, and now is well with him once again.