Even though I missed Al so much while he was at the Hospice house, it was truly a good thing. Ever since he has been home his tremors are very slow.
This has enabled him to eat and drink by himself. His chatter is constant and he smiles more. I think he has more pride in the fact he can do a few things for himself again.
Not being able to feed himself I notice this is most humiliating to him. He can cry easier at meals than any other time.
I wish, let’s say I am always wanting more. I wish that he could stand longer. He can not. In fact, I think he can stand less. The new medication has helped in the area of tremors and also in less sweating.
He sweats when he has to stand to be changed or transferred. His labored breathing is still heard when he has body activity. The side effects that I think are from the medication are more confusion. He is sleepy more often than not. He stutters quite a bit now, but at least, thank God his tremors have lessened.
All of you that have prayed over Al for so many months, God has been listening and has answered. I will not get my hopes super high. I realize that medications only last so long before the body gets immune to them. I will keep my hope at bay and within reason. Sort of like that game at the fair where you ring the bell with the big pallet. Oh, it is called test your strength. I have never played it. I don’t want to have some gadget tell me I am weaker than I think. Here is a video of the game being played I am talking about.
Have you ever seen hands tremoring so bad they can’t be used? Here is a tiny video of this happening. This is what Al’s hands were doing until this week.
So all I wish for now is the medication to last for a while before we have to start increases. I am afraid if there is an increase Al will end up being bed bound.
I trained someone this morning for the coming Wednesday. I want to attend a very important auction and I could not take him. I felt like a real teacher. This will be Al’s first time staying with a caregiver in his position he is in now. She is very nice. Al asked all sorts of questions. I could tell he was not as much interested in who she was about but if I was coming back.
So thank-you everyone for the constant prayers. I really appreciate them.
Daily Prompt; No Longer a Mere Mortal
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You’ve imbibed a special potion that makes you…
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You’ve imbibed a special potion that makes you immortal. Now that you’ve got forever, what changes will you make in your life? How will you live life differently, knowing you’ll always be around to be accountable for your actions?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us LONGEVITY.
The first thing that came to my mind when I read this is thin. Please let me be thin forever. Don’t let me ever have to worry about what I eat. Let me have sugars, sweets, eat two helpings of anything.
Let me be beautiful. Let all men who look my way never be able to take their eyes off of me.
Let me be rich, let me never run out of money. Let me buy all that I dream of. Let me lay in pools of gold.
Then I began to think how selfish I am. Is this really going to make me happy?
Is this going to make me content for eternity with no purpose in my life?
I doubt it. It is a dream that we wish for, but not for a life time.
How would we learn from life without lessons? How could we smile when the only one we gift is our self?
I believe we would grow bored. There would be no nothing. An empty box with our face plastered all over it, but no smiles to look at.
Eventually we would become lifeless. We would just want to curl up in our coffin and die early.
We need things to work for in our life. We need goals, we need to stay busy. We need to know that we can create goals and accomplish them.
We need to be able to look forward to the next day, month and year. We need to help our neighbors, be there for our families. We need to love life.
Yes, having everything for a while would be a dream come true, but hard work and a reason for living would make up so much happier.
Well the first full day is almost over with me and Al. I think that I would pretty well consider him incontinent with the bladder area. He has been very wet every time I have checked. I try to put him on the bed side commode but nothing happens.
He ate pretty good all of his meals today. He also adds some variety to each meat with his new song I heard. I learned the words very quickly. He cusses a way at the disease telling it off like you wouldn’t believe.
Normally, I would intervene here with some words of wisdom, but I can’t do it. I see how hard it is to get a spoon to his mouth. I see how many seconds he fights and fights. He is learning to take my cue and eat more foods with his fingers.
I took some shots at supper so you can understand what I see. I have one short video, a couple of shots of him, and of course you know who was guarding the house. Yep, Rhino.
Daily Prompt; Shape Up or Ship Out
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Write a letter to the personality traityou like…
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Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us UGLY.
Dear confidence,
You know that you are the one I curse the most. You have burrowed yourself within my soul; as a mole burrows under my yard.
I have spoken to you. I have even been more firm with you than anyone else I have ever spoken to, but you refuse to listen.
Don’t you know you are destroying me? Is that your purpose? Don’t you want to see me succeed? Because you realize that if I win, you win.
You have stood by in a dark corner, hiding in the shadows, sneering at me when you realize you have had your way with me.
You have watched me at night as I lay in my bed and cry my eyes out because once again I have lost my belief in myself.
What can I do to get rid of you? Many friends have told me repeatedly that you don’t exist.
They have said you are a figment of my imagination. To know that I have built a life on your weakness and jeers makes me sick to my stomach.
If I got a paintball and stood you in front of the mirror. If I aimed at you dead on, could I dismiss you from my life?
Or would you splatter all over my mirror, and within seconds become whole again; standing in your corner laughing at me?
I have to train my mind that you are not real. I have to stand in front of a mirror every morning when I wake up. As I brush my teeth, I must repeat for five minutes, I am worthy, I am likeable, I was made in God‘s perfect image.
If I repeat this message, it is possible that I can block you out of my life.
It is a behavior, this is all it is. Someone has made a comment to me that hurt me deeper than I thought. Or maybe something happened that I never truly got over.
This has to be when you came into my life and made yourself at home.
It is time to stop though. I can not be a part of your games any longer. I am tired of weeping. Sick of feeling low about myself. I want to live my life to the fullest. I want to step out in faith and try new things. Put my ideas on the table and give them a chance. So what if I fail with a thought I had, at least I gave it a shot.
It is time for you to leave. I am putting my shield of self-worth on and I am booting you out. I will kick you to the curb and watch closely as the weekly garbage truck pulls up and tosses you into the big mouth. I will watch the life be squeezed out of you as the jaws bite down pushing all the trash and unwanted things deep within its belly. 
So I have stood strong, and I have told you how it is going to be starting right this very moment.
Get your bags packed bully boy, and get the he double hockey sticks out of here and don’t you ever come back.
#fwf Free Write Friday; Time & Place
You’re young. You are standing in front of a shop window watching…
You’re young. You are standing in front of a shop window watching something on the black and white television inside. A woman grabs your hand and runs down the street, pulling you along…
You start to scream, but a man is suddenly standing beside you and places his big, smelly gloved hand over your mouth. You begin to feel suffocated as your nostrils are partially covered.
He jerks you up into his arms and you can see the woman quickly opening the back of the long, graffiti van. He shoves you in, not caring that you bumped your head on something hard.
You begin to cry yelling,” I want my mommy. I want my mommy.” No one wants you to be heard. They prefer a clean get a way and you are not going to be the one to stop this. The woman and man climb in the front seats and trying not to spin the tires they take off as fast as they can get by with.
Once out of range, they stop the van suddenly. You decide this is going to be your escape. Screaming gets attention. The man and woman are conversing what they have in easy access to shut you up. With a few French words being heard, the man gets out and slams his door.
He throws open the back door and before you can say a word, he has plastered your mouth with black duct tape. Getting back in the front seat, I just know they are smiling at each other as they believe this is the end of it. I can hear the conversation though. Plugging my mouth didn’t shut my ears.
“What are you going to do with this kid now Greta? I did what you wanted. I got her and she’s in the back and I don’t think she will be making any trouble for you. Now I want my money and I don’t ever want to see your ugly face again.”
“Oh Duncan, settle down will ya? I promised you I would pay you, just as soon as the job was finished. But doll, the job ain’t done yet. I mailed the ransom note two days ago. I had it all planned out. I am sure as we are sitting here, they are putting the money together to get their precious daughter back safe and sound.”
“This is bullshit. This is not what you said. I never told you I was playing along with your game until the end. I want my money now Greta. Do you hear me? Now.”
Placing calloused fingers over dry lips she tried to use her sexuality to calm him down. It had worked numerous times with others when she wanted something bad. And this time she wanted and needed money.
She had used the system and her kids and any people she knew, but her tricks had run out. She was now close to being without food and a roof over her head. She didn’t even have enough money to put red back in her hair. She couldn’t go out with her gray showing.
She had even stooped so low as to steal from the local art theatre’s prop warehouse just to make this plan work. She didn’t give a hoot about Duncan. In fact, he could lose himself in space for all she cared about, as soon as she had her hands on the money.
Meanwhile the 10-year-old had figured out how to get the tape off her mouth. She looked around to see what she could find to escape these two scary strangers. She had been watching cartoons on the store’s TV shop and she saw something that she could use.
She could do the same thing the bad man had done on the show. She found a tire crow bar. She could use it as a sword, just like on TV. Now to get them to open up the door.
She started whimpering and when she was ignored she started crying out,” I have to go to the bathroom.” Ignoring her request made her draw strength and with a big inhale of air she voiced, “I have to go to the bathroom. I don’t want to wet in my pants. Please let me go to the bathroom. Pleaseeeeeeee let me out, I promise I won’t run.”
“Greta for heaven’s sake, I can’t think. Do something, shut that kid up right now.”
“Why is it always up to me to figure everything out. Greta, you do this, Greta you do that.”
Noticing that he wasn’t going to do anything but sit there and stare out the window, she got out of her seat and went back to the door where the kid lay waiting and armed.
“I’m telling you right now kid. I am going to open this door and you are going to go over behind one of these trees. Do your business and get right back in. If you don’t do what I say, you will be forced to endure a great, painful punishment. Do you hear me kid?”
“Yes, I hear you. I promise. Just let me go to the bathroom. I am about to pee on myself.”
Greta opened the door and the young girl took a deep breath and as hard as she could she plunged the crow bar right in Greta’s gut. It threw her off guard and the kid took just long enough to see Greta doubling over from pain.
The kid jumped out and ran as fast as her legs could take her. She glanced around as she was running and recognized where she was. She ran right back to the TV store and ran in screaming,” help me, help me. Two bad people tried to hurt me.”
The owner picked her up and sat her on the desk and called 911. With the rotten scoundrels not wrapping her eyes, she was able to give an acute description of the two. Before too much time had gone by, the kidnappers had been caught, fingerprinted and booked.
Who I am 