Daily Prompt; Unplugged
Sometimes, we all need a break…
Daily Prompt; Unplugged
Sometimes, we all need a break…
Sometimes, we all need a break from these little glowing boxes. How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
Unplugging from anything is not easy, usually. But then there is a moment, a slice of time, when I am sitting here at the computer and I look at the screen. Nothing, that’s what I get. I have the whole internet to look at, gaze through, reading, learning, and I get nothing.
Then I feel bad and I can understand why my rear end feels so flat lately. I realize I need a break. I never run out of things to talk about with all my friends on here. I never get tired of reading your wonderful comments, but hey, let’s face it. Even best friends need a break from each other at times; even if it’s for a very short time.
So let me rise
Get off my rear
I need to get moving
Gotta get out of here
Sniff the air
Watch the leaves
Falling every where
For all it brings
Take in new air
And sing, sing, sing!
Aww, I feel better. I have a new outlook on life. I have new ideas. I saw that bug over there. I saw that leaf in color. The neighbor waved hello. The earth is moving and I was the one standing still. Now, I can go back and write about new things.
Can you believe that I am just now posting my first blog today? Yes, I pressed a few articles this…
Can you believe that I am just now posting my first blog today? Yes, I pressed a few articles this morning, but to chat with you I have not. I think it is a first for me. Well my friends gather near and get ready to do a visual in your mind. Here I am, Ms. Innocent, minding my own business.
Yesterday was not really a bad at all. Other than tears and the usual pains, Al was pretty good. I had a nice calm day. It got later and it was time to give Al his snacks and his medications.
My hall to my bathroom is dim. It has little miniature lights that put off a soft glow. They are little cows and horses. Yeah, they are so cute. Well anyways, I was barefoot, which is very rare with my bad diabetic feet.
I went in my bathroom and was sitting on the throne. I was just looking around and then I noticed something at the edge of the doorway. Right where I had just walked past in my bare feet.
It was a spider. Oh my gosh, a spider!I freaked. I hurried and finished my business. If it isn’t a tree-toad in my toilet water it is now a spider. I don’t know how these two buggers got in but they are not welcome. I looked around because I was too scared to walk out the door now with that huge thing standing in the way.
Yes, in my eyes he was huge. I may be taller and bigger but he was huge in my vision. I grabbed my hair spray can. I got as close as I dare get and sprayed him. That sucker jumped and ran for my bedroom door.
Oh no you don’t. I am going to bed. You are not welcome in my room under any circumstances.
I ran past him without thinking and grabbed my fly swatter. Racing back to him I knew that I had stunned him with my frozen stiff spray. I went to swat him and I missed. That stupid sucker jumped again and this time he went under my dresser.
Now I was on a mission. It was him die or me, and it was going to be him. I had nothing at all to defend myself so I just kept swatting at the darkness hoping to bop him a good one. I saw him, YES, I see you and now I am going to beat you down. I swatted a good one. Strike! You are out. I was chalking one up for me.
You have to realize by now it is almost one am and I have to be up with Al in the morning so he can get on the bus. My bedroom lights are not bright. I have a lot of low glows in my room. I like a soft-looking room, a comfy look.
I looked up after I crushed him and there was Rhino looking at me. What a lazy cat. He should have had his rear down here smacking that spider silly instead of me. For heaven’s sakes, I have to get up in the morning.
I got up and went into the bathroom to get a nice big wad of toilet paper to dispose of the hideous creature. When I got back you will not believe this. That spider was gone. Oh no, I can’t go to bed with a spider on the loose.
Now I was on the war path. I went and got my big tomahawk flashlight. Guaranteed to locate anything in hiding. I looked and I looked but nothing. Where was he, he had to be dazed and dizzy as much hair spray as I had given him. I had even sprayed him with Glade air freshener. So he was dazed but at least he smelled good.
Well nothing and by now it is almost two am. I had to be up in six hours. I had no choice but to go to bed. I asked God to keep that creature a way from me, but just to help myself too, I left the lights on all night and my big flashlight and my fly swatter in hands.
When I woke up this morning I was still holding my weapons and I was tired. It was time to get Al up. I woke up about five minutes before the alarm went off. I cursed the alarm. I wanted more sleep.
I got Al up and fiddled on the computer while the shower girl gave him his shower. Then I had some coffee and a doughnut stick. I got dressed and as soon as I waved goodbye to Al on the bus, I was off to the grocery store. On the weekends it is hard to get out because it is difficult to take Al out, so I try to get everything in hand before he hops off the bus on Friday nights.
I came home and put everything a way. Then I started the JOB. The job of cleaning every nook and cranny looking for the hopefully dead spider. I cleaned the corners, the cobwebs, anywhere a sweeper or hose could reach. I moved my little pieces of furniture.
Nothing, no spider, nada, zip, zero. He was gone or the cat ate him. I was just putting the last of the loose ends a way when it was time to get Al off the bus. A day shot to the winds. No blogging, no goofing off, no chatting. But the good thing is; my room is spotless. But, where is the spider? Will I see him tonight?
Have You Ever Told Yourself?
Have you ever told yourself, I don’t know what to do, but when the time is right, I will know it.
This is how I have been feeling for a while now. I would think differently and probably not even bother writing this so I do not bore you, but it has been some time and my gut keeps saying,.now Terry, now is the time.
I have seen it coming. I can feel his pain. Yet I stand and do nothing but hold on tight for his life.
Yes, I know he can have his shower in bed. Yes, I know things can get much worse. But what concerns me is Al’s livelihood. What will happen to the little bit of spirit once I put the stop sign out.
Al is getting very hard to transfer alone. I keep in mind that I am going to interview a gal tomorrow night to help put him in bed. But that is not the only time he transfers. What about the mornings? What about at his Day Program? What about the risk of putting Al in other people’s hands? What if he falls?
It is here. He is getting too weak to transfer. His legs scream out in pain each time he gives his all to transfer. It may be only three steps but the first one most of the time anymore doesn’t even get taken.
I know the way I send him to Day Program is through multiple medications to get through the day. He has a special wheelchair that lays back so he can nap and keep his swollen feet up.
I can barely do the holding of him any longer. The shower girl is struggling. I know I need to put a stop to the Day Program or cut his hours down, but I am struggling with the words.
I have spoken to Al about cutting down to half-days and he just starts crying. He loves socializing. He doesn’t ever want to stop. He can’t get from me what he needs from someone other than just a sister. He needs his own space and his own friends.
But yet my inner voice says it is time. How do I do it? How can I break his heart? I just don’t think I can pull it off. What will he have left? Home and his TV? At this point I don’t even know if his cars and coca cola could begin to satisfy his inner urge for normalcy.
He told me before his shower, through flowing tears, that he wishes Mom would just stick her arm a little further down to him so he could reach out and grab it. I hate being a pile of mush crap, but once again, I left the shower girl to tend to Al’s tears and I hid in my bedroom crying.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs. Lord, lord hear my cry. I am a coward Lord. Please don’t make me do this to him. I will do anything for you Lord if you just take him home before I have to say no to Day Program. Help me Lord, hear my cries. Take this off of my shoulders Lord. Can’t you see I love him? Don’t you realize it will tear me up inside more than him not going? I beg of you Lord, relieve him. Take him out of his pain. Let him sit near you. Let me know that he is walking again, and most of all Lord, show me a sign that he is smiling.
I feel like such a failure, I know I shouldn’t. Failure is a terrible downgrading word for a human being. I am actually sitting here with tears kicking myself emotionally hoping I can learn quicker, be more gentle, and more understanding.
I try so hard to be the perfect sister and yet I fail more and more as he gets worse. This morning I greeted him with a smile and got one back. I fixed him eggs and french toast for breakfast.
He told me how the cat jumped up on his bed last night and wanted to be petted. Conversation was pretty nice. Then it happened, the shower girl came for his bathing.
Al had finished breakfast a few minutes before she arrived, so I helped him brush his teeth and shaved him. I was helping him to stand and grab the shower bar in order to sit on the shower chair.
It is unfortunate that either bathroom in our house is not wheelchair accessible. They are both tight fits. I have a grab bar in the shower and one on the wall for him to hang on to. He did pretty good until he got to the end of the bar and had to hang on to me for the three more steps.
Suddenly he started talking about how he was going to fall. I was telling him, “It’s alright, I am right here with you, holding you.” He continued on with his fear and I knew in an instant that he was going to give up his concentration on standing and walking those few more steps by arguing.
The crying started and then I was getting the look from him which I have seen many years. I tried to calm him down as the shower girl was standing behind us watching the scene play out. Nothing I said helped, he just kept saying he could have fallen.
Since he was sitting and safe now I turned the show over to the bath aide. As I turned to walk out of the bathroom I heard those old familiar words asking me, “What did you say to me?”
This is a signal I remember instantly. Anger, frustration and whatever else he could get out of his mouth. In past times he would try to hurt me. I am not afraid of that part now as he is too slow and weak.
I automatically went and got him one of his medications that I can use for him at these times so that he won’t explode and will calm down instead of carrying it on for hours. The shower girl was beginning her job and I asked her to stop just a moment so I could give him his pill.
After he swallowed it in applesauce he asked, “What did you give me?” I told him something to help him calm down. He said some choice words and I left the bathroom and came out in the living room and smoked a cigarette, frustrated.
After the shower was over and she was dressing him I walked to the door and calmly explained the urgency in not speaking while he is walking. I told him he could tell me anything once he was safely seated.
Dressed and ready for the bus I walked the shower lady outside. She told me, “He was afraid he was going to fall on the towel you keep on the floor for his bath. Maybe you need more bar grips placed in there. Maybe you should have just sat him back in his wheelchair and explained to him why he needs to concentrate on walking and then talk later.”
I felt like an ass, a total ass. I was embarrassed and humiliated. I had shown no patience with Al. I jumped on the issue of arguing because of memories gone by. I am always aware of what Al can do, although no one that knows him now is.
I freak out. I get scared in a way of what used to be. Why can’t I be better? Why didn’t I see that it was the towel he was afraid of and not me? I was thinking he just didn’t trust me enough to get to the chair. It took the shower girl to point out the real problem, the towel.
I know I am beating myself up. I know the fear that rises inside of me from past experiences with him. I can remember the hospital saying,”Although we know he is falling from his illness if you bring him in one more time for a fall we will have to call Adult Protective Services, APS. It is the law.”
I know that I am a good sister. I know that I would never hurt him or hit him or nothing. In fact it would be the other way around, he would hurt me. But knowing I didn’t catch what he was really saying because I was concentrating so hard on him not falling, and the shower girl observed it all, I am a wreck right now.
Lord, I need help in the mornings. Is this a cop-out? Am I saying I can’t really deal with him? Did I make an error in bringing him home? I swear I love him and I know it breaks my heart when he cries, but I caused this, and the way I coped with it was to think, I need to calm him down so he doesn’t let this ruin his day.
So I gave him a relaxing pill instead of actually listening and hearing. I did apologize to him before he left on the misunderstanding of the towel. I also expressed once again that when he has to walk a few steps we need to be very quiet and get to the seat so he doesn’t fall.
I am screwing it up and I need to stop and listen. He is the one who is sick, not me.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt
Tell us about your favorite way to get lost in a simple
activity — running, chopping vegetables, folding laundry, whatever.
What’s it like when you’re in “the zone”?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us LOST.
You are going to fall off of your chair from laughing when you read what makes me so happy and lost in my own zone.
No, it isn’t shopping. No, it isn’t going out with my friends, although I love that. No, it isn’t reunions, or eating my favorite foods. It is cleaning.
Yes, cleaning. I think partly because I spent so much of my time as a teen trying to please my parents it feels like home to me.
No phone calls, no door knocks. A t-shirt and shorts and barefoot. Music turned up and off I go. I would move the living room furniture around. Clean the windows and sweep and dust.
I would move from room to room until it shined and smelled so good. Now don’t get me wrong. There are certain types of cleaning I don’t care for. I only wash the curtains twice a year, and sometimes only once in the Spring.
I don’t mind cleaning my indoor windows, but I would prefer someone else to do the outside windows. I washed my living room walls down for the first time this spring and I have lived here a year and a half.
I take down my antiques that sit above the kitchen shelves once a year. Cleaning ceiling fans I do about three times a year. Rearranging closets twice a year, and only because I have to switch clothes out.
But general cleaning, yeah I love it. It makes me feel good when I rest my weary body down on my couch and take a look around. Furniture looks different. I am not stepping on any dirt on the floor, laundry is done.
Yep, for me that is my zone. Me, myself and I, music, a sweeper,dust rags and some Windex.
Do you think this is why I don’t have that hot date yet? LOL, I need to find someone to date that loves to move heavy bedroom furniture. LOL