This and That

Life is moving along here. No snow as yet to speak of. I’m sure the universe is waiting for my trip to San Diego before dumping a major blizzard onto us. Wow! No positive thinking there. I just don’t want anything to go haywire. My Brother’s wife, Kay, refers to my trip as my honeymoon. Yep! That’s about it.

I’ve stopped going to the gym for now because I have wrecked myself from too much exercise that was not intended for a 60 year old woman. It’s probably not even recomended for a 30 year old woman. I look great. I just can’t move around without the feeling that cement has been poured into my joints, and in my left knee, broken into little sharp pieces that are trying to escape through the side . I really need to workout in moderation.

I went to the physiotherapist yesterday and she tut tutted about how tight my muscles in my hips and upper leg were. She bent my right leg up into my chest and rotated it through the hip. It was perfectly fine when I left her office, but this morning, I could hardly get out of bed. In checking me out, she pulled a hip muscle which gives me great pain upon rising out of a chair. I now have pain in both sides of my body.  She also told me my right knee was turned inward…knocked kneed. For most of my life, I believed I had these perfect, long legs and now I find out I’m knock-kneed…well, half knock-kneed. Bummer!

Gladys is fine. Her memory is getting worse and worse, but I say that every time I write my blog, but it’s getting worse. I’m less irritated at her which is a good thing because I was feeling so guilty everytime I snapped at her. I attribute my better mood to a number of things. Some of which, you may pooh pooh, but who knows. First, I stopped seeing S and planning my day around having to be at the gym at 1pm. Secondly, I changed my diet, gave up dairy, 5 cups of black tea a day, cut out the conscious ingestion of sugar products, keeping to 1500 calories a day.

So, life is good. I still want to be with John more than I want to be here. He’s having way too much fun wheeling and dealing in Spokane. But, I’ll get there. Everyday gets me closer to that time.

All About John?

John is doing well in Spokane…very well. He’s in the final stage of setting up a plant which manufactures biodegradable packing peanuts made of starch. They degrade when wet and are not much liked by mice. The machine is up and running and business has started. He’s busy making giant carts to hold the giant bags of peanuts. He’s going to make as many carts as covers the plant floor, well, within reason. I’m sure he’s going to leave himself walking space. He also has to work out a few bugs in the giant holding bag..not real bugs but operational bugs. The peanuts get moved from bag to bag by suction through a hose, but the weight of the peanuts at the bottom of the big bag is causing a log jam of peanuts which are too dense to be sucked out, so he has to find a way to get more air into the area to dislodge the peanuts.  He also has to ventilate the work place. As clean as the operation is, there is a fine mist of dust and humidity that needs to be exited out of the building. So, you see, one of the neat things about his job is that he has to think each day and solve problems.

As well as this work, John is working with J to set up a wireless broadband network in the Spokane Valley business park. John, with 5 other men on Quadra Island, created a wireless broadband network that is still up and running .  Compared to working with the rocks, trees and mountains of BC, this should be relatively simple.

For entertainment and society, he has joined a scrabble club. They meet informally, have a potluck meal and play scrabble. John played scrabble in Phoenix and it was pretty serious stuff, but Spokane scrabble has a more social element than Phoenix did. That’s good to know. When I finally get there, maybe I’ll play too.

So, that’s about it for John. He has friends; he has work; he has play. He has again created for himself a good life.  Go, John, go!

From your biggest fan, Cecelia.

Only The Happy May Apply

My mood in my last blog was pretty bleak, and as Ruth, a reader in Michigan told me, “This too shall pass,” and it did.  The next day I was at the gym, trying to keep up with the 30 year old hard bodies, when I pulled a tendon in my right leg. It kept me away from the gym for a week, which turned out to be a good thing. I rested, read and was less bitchy with Gladys. I pondered this and asked myself why this should be.

Remember the woman who came up to me at the gym, and asked me to be her workout buddy? Well, S turned out to be a sweet woman with a myriad of problems. She is manic-depressive; she’s lost two of her children to social services, she has memory loss from her anti-depressants, social services cut her off child payments when they found out she was receiving them even though two children were gone. She tells me she has no money for food; she wrecked her car at Christmas, but a generous used car dealer let her make monthly payments on a new used car. She was horribly upset last week because she is afraid social services will take her remaining child from her because she is sharing a room with her son so she can rent out her bedroom to a tenant. She was so upset, she almost got into another car accident because she couldn’t focus. She doesn’t know how she is going to manage for food. S has 3 dogs and a cat. S  has satelite television which she doesn’t watch, and she has a cell phone. S depresses the hell out out of me. I don’t want to be looking after Gladys whose memory is worsening, who just sits in front of the TV once she’s gotten out of bed, who keeps turning off her hearing aid so we can’t communicate, and spending my free time with S who makes Gladys look like a breath of fresh air.

So, I’m not going to. Somehow I will ease her out of my life. As long as I have a choice concerning  with whom I hang out, I will choose healthy, happy, fairly well-adjusted human beings. If dropping S makes me a bad person, then so be it. I’m too old for this crap.

Get Over It!

I’ve been with Gladys for 10 months now, and the optimism I started with, I can’t feel anymore. I feel like a fake; I feel dishonest and I can’t seem to do this anymore with a glad heart, sometimes not even with a kind heart. How do I do this and make our life together worthwhile? How do I stop feeling like I’ve failed myself and my mother? I can’t seem to move into a mental place that helps me. I don’t want to be here; I want to be with my husband living a real life. But I know I can’t leave Gladys and be with John without carrying with me an enormous amount of guilt. If I go now I will again feel like the failed daughter who didn’t come up to scratch. 

I expect that all caregivers are familiar with the way I’m feeling. Hopefully, the feelings are transitory and they are an natural stage of caregiving. Maybe I’m feeling this way because I’m into the January blahs. I just know I can’t keep punishing Gladys with my sourness day after day. Being old and dependent is not her fault.  So, I’ll just try harder not to. I’ll work out more. I’ll go to more movies. I’ll think of being with John in six weeks on a beach in California. I’ll get over myself and stop being such a baby!!

I love this blog. It makes me feel so much better about things by the time I’ve finished writing it.

Okay, I’m good now. I’m going to go to the gym. Bye.

Keep On Mooshing!

Returning to Gladys was hard for me. Actually, leaving John was the difficult part.  I haven’t been back a week yet, and all I’ve done since returning is stew and fret and be angry at Gladys.  She was happy to have me home and all I could give her in return was a begrudging presence. Thank God, something she said this morning sparked a long discussion between the two of us. Thank God I’ve gotten over making my missing John her fault.

She feels very guilty about being the reason John and I are not living together. What makes it doubly hard for her is that John and I like being together and have a great life together. It would be much easier on her if John and I were happier apart, but we’re not. Anyway, we talked and talked and she asked if it would help if she returned to “the home.”

There is no turning back for Gladys or me or John or my two brothers and their wives. Gladys can’t live independently enough to return to “the home”. However, she isn’t at the stage to go into a total care facility either. Gladys is in transistion. She has nowhere to go. Full care facilities have a 2 year waiting list. She will probably be ready then…I’m guessing. So, the solution to our conundrum lies not with disposing of Gladys, but in finding a solution where John and I see more of each other. And to this end, John and I are working. He’s hoping to move closer to me in the near future so that traveling to see each other doesn’t mean the other side of North America. As well, we will shorten the time between visits…four months apart was too long, or was it five months.

Anyway, there is a solution and we will find it. I wonder if any other couples are in the same boat? It would be great to hear from them, but I can’t imagine how to find them. Oh well, as John says, “We’ll just keep mooshing” (sounds like foot).

Happy New Year!

I returned yesterday from Spokane after visiting John for 10 days. If you want time to evaporate before your eyes, go somewhere and be with someone you don’t want to leave. Presto!  Time gone!

We did all the things I’ve missed not living with John: cooking together, finding great places to eat, grocery shop (an event with John), watching tons of movies and seeing him wipe tears from his eyes at the tender parts, playing scrabble and drinking wine or champagne and watching him make up the most extraordinary words, work side by side with him and remember what an accomplished man he is to have built what he has at the Spokane plant, sleep beside him and know that a wonderful man loves me.

When I arrived home, Gladys was still up and I could tell she was very pleased to have me here once again. She asked me today if I was glad to be home, and I couldn’t answer her. I’m not glad to be home. I want to be with my husband, but for now I’ll be here with Gladys. During the 10 days with John and seeing how much he has had to do by himself in a strange city, I questioned my decision to leave him and return to look after Gladys. Is one’s responsibility to one’s spouse or to one’s family? John says it’s a moot point because the decision’s been made and now we do the best we can with it.

So, the best we can do is book a week’s vacation in February in the Bahamas.  It will be oodles easier to be apart for 8 weeks than the four months we just endured. And, I’m going to return to living with John in the spring of 2011. Perhaps, Gladys will be ready to go into a full care facility; maybe, she’ll realize that she’s had me long enough and that I need to pick up my life again, maybe, maybe….we’ll just wait and see. Meanwhile, I’ll put my energy into making this a great year for all of us. Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas, All!

Today is Christmas Eve and I’ve finally finished getting  ready for my trip to Spokane to see John. I’m so excited! I’ve fretted over monster storms, flight cancellations, illness, missed connections and I think I’m ready to give myself up to trusting that all will go well, and I will arrive safe and sound to enjoy a grand holiday with my husband.

I’ved baked and tasted my Christmas cake; I’ve watched Dickens’ A Christmas Carol twice and am well into the Christmas spirit of the holiday. My mother and I will share a Christmas Eve dinner of shrimp and rice with stir fried veggies. I will make her watch some more sappy Christmas movies, all which have the same theme, but one that never fails to choke me up. I will go to bed whenever and wake up at 3 am to get ready to get the Red Car to the airport at 4 am.

I’ve traveled many times on Christmas day, and always have found it a day of much stillness. It’s as if the world has taken a moment and is in between breaths. I look forward to it. Merry Christmas all.

Heal Thyself, Hygenist!

I seem to do much whining and complaining about my life with Gladys; but, I figure I’m entitled. Gladys’ dental hygenist isn’t. I become very protective of Gladys when strangers have the audacity to criticize her.

When I walked into the room where the hygenist was finishing up on my mother’s teeth, the hygenist said in a who’s-in-charge-of-this-errant-child tone of voice, “She (meaning Gladys) is not spending enough time brushing her teeth. There is too much plaque build-up.”  Obviously, the woman had never spent anytime waiting on my mother’s bed for her to finish brushing so they could leave for an appointment.

Immediately, I sprang to my mother’s defense saying, ” My mother spends a good deal of time brushing her teeth. She uses an electric toothbrush and is very conscious of keeping her teeth clean.”  She replied, “Well, she’s not doing it properly then.” Good, God! What put this woman in such a pissy mood? I replied, “Well, why don’t you tell me exactly the problem so we can get her brushing properly.” Seems Gladys wasn’t getting her gumline and this is where the build-up was. We left the dentist office after paying a $218 bill and getting no respect.

The dental hygenist was not a young kid right out of dental hygenist school. She was a woman in her fifties who does my mother’s teeth every 6 months. First of all, she talked to me as if my mother wasn’t there, but that I can forgive, because Gladys probably didn’t hear anything she said in the hour she was getting her teeth done. Secondly, the hygenist did not consider for one moment the difficulty Gladys might be having brushing her teeth now.

The very act of holding the toothbrush to her teeth in front of the mirror for any length of time is extremely tiring for Gladys. Her hands are arthritic and don’t work well anymore. Her eyesight is poor and perhaps she can’t see her gumline  so she simply aims for any part of her teeth. The dental hygenist needs a course on working with very old patients. My mother is probably the oldest patient she has, and needs understanding not admonishment.

Gladys! Arghhh!

So, I’m trying to get Gladys out of the house, and out of the driveway by 2:30 pm to get her to a dental appointment for 3 pm. She started getting  ready at 1 pm. I’m gnashing my teeth and not doing a very good job of hiding my impatience as I button up her sweater. Gladys is sitting on her bed at 2:30 pm. She mistakes the source of my impatience and thinks it’s because I have to do up her buttons. She says to me, “It’s only going to get worse, Celia.” She thinks that her increasing dependence on me to do things that she can no longer physically do, is causing me to be grumpy. She is so wrong.

My impatience is with her vanity, and her nitpickiness at the age of 95 and a half.  We spent precious minutes while she decided which winter coat was going to look better, which scarf was going to go with said winter coat, which pair of black leather gloves best suited coat and scarf. We wasted more time while she looked for a comb so that, when her head came off the dentist’s chair, she would be able to comb the flat spot that the headrest would create. Who worries about that??  Who doesn’t just run their fingers through their hair? At the very end of my patience, after I had put the blue sweater under her blouse collar, she decided that this time, she wanted the sweater over top of the collar. Arghhh!!!

The Gift of the Monkey’s Paw

In response to my last blog, my son, Ryan, commented that I probably wouldn’t know what I had learned from my experience with Gladys until it was all over. Well, he’s wrong. I have definitely learned something that I knew before only as a saying, “Be careful what you wish for.”  Like many other school children, I read the short story, The Monkey’s Paw, and I understood its meaning. I understood its meaning in an intellectual way, not in a gut way. Now, I understand it in a gut way.

There is nothing to be accomplished by boring you my wish; what’s important is that you take my advice to heart.  Be very careful what you wish for, because you never know under what conditions it will be granted.

Oh, and one more thing I’ve learned most secret wishes are just the coward’s way of not dealing in the present. There’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas.