Sunday, August 3, 2014

Mom went to bed extra early yesterday: 7:00 pm. I was remorseful, thinking maybe she was upset because of the fuss I made over the mess she made of herself and the bathroom. She was there while I cleaned and cleaned. And on some level, I think she knows she is no longer capable of taking care of things properly. I am not sure about this, of course, but I cannot help think that the vestiges of this woman that peek through from time to time also collect information and process it on some level. Some primitive, primary level. She knows. She knows she has failed. She knows she can no longer do what she did before. But she cannot do anything about it. I think at times she becomes disheartened when she realizes she is no longer capable of, well, doing anything on her own.

I briefly watched an historic reenactment on television on the execution of William Wallace (Scotland, 1305). He was murdered and quartered, and his wife was hung in a cage outside, where she was publicly humiliated until she died—which I hope was blessedly quickly. I could not watch the rest of the program. Too grueling. And I wonder how grueling it is for mom to “watch” her life and be unable to do what she could always do before. She still asks me each time to close the bathroom door while she is in there. So I am mindul and respectful of her modesty. As she already threw away the soiled diaper by the time I showed up, I know she was aware of her “mistake” and most likely dismayed by it. Breaks my heart and should give me pause not to clean up so vigorously while she is still in the bathroom. It teaches nothing. It only disheartens.

Later—

After a lovely session at Hearthstone, where Mike and I lead the community in prayer and in song on the first Sunday of each month, I returned home determined to finish cooking the foods I picked up at the Rodale gardens. Can’t waste organic goodies. And I also needed to grill the bratwurst I defrosted for some mindless reason.

First thing was to deal with the bratwursts. Five of them from The German Butcher. Handmade, of course. The plan was to grill them. But the roofers had dismantled my grill and I had to reattach it to the house gas. It took me a while to do it, but two desperate phone calls to friends later and with some muscle, I did it—all the while it rained. I was determined. Nothing could stop me. Not even my mother calling, Sandy! I have to go to the bathroom. Nothing, not even Valentino worrying at the growth on Lucy’s back. It went something like this:

Sandy! What are you doing?

I am trying to fix the grill. Can you wait?

No, I can’t. I have to go.

Sheesh!

[Telephone rings]

Hello, Betty. What’s up? [I take the phone with me into the bathroom.]

I have an idea about how to get Valentino to stop licking Lucy’s growth.

Oh? Val, stop it. Stop it now! No! No! No!

What if we put gauze on it.

Won’t stay. Can’t tape anything. Too much hair. Mom, don’t touch that. It’s dirty.

Well, I also have these gauze stretchy things that you can put over wounds. Let me see if I can find one. I’ll be right over.

Mom you need a new diaper. Wait here.

Eventually I went out again and fiddled with the grill, growing more and more determined to get it working again. I refused to sacrifice perfectly good brats for a nonworking grill! I opened the door to the bottom of the grill where the propane tank usually sits. Mine being attached to the house gas is usually empty, with the exception of a few grill utensils and the mat on which they sat. But, I was in for yet another surprise. We had had a visitor—either a mouse or a chipmunk. Not a pleasant sight. I salvaged with I could. All stainless pieces made it into the dishwasher for a very hot bath. The rest was pitched. Back to the grill. Strength was what was called for! My anger was now peaking, if mom calls me once more or if Val goes after Lucy’s back, it won’t be pretty.

Sandy!

WHAT!!!!!!! I AM FIXING THE GRILL!
Sandy! Where are you?

JUST A MINUTE. I AM WORKING ON SOMETHING! VAL, LEAVE LUCY ALONE, DAMMIT!

I have to go to the bathroom again.

JUST A DAMNED MINUTE!

[After the ablutions] Will you sleep with me?

NO!

Then tell Rose to sleep with me. Where is she?

SHE’S IN A DAMNED NURSING HOME!

No she isn’t.

YES SHE IS!

Well, who put here there? She should be here with me.

THAT’S ALL I NEED. YOUR DEMANDING SISTER! I’D SOONER KILL MYSELF OR HER!

This was not a perfect day. No siree. Not after church. Not after an hour of prayer at Hearthstone. No resolve in the world could have stopped me from shouting in anger.

Eventually, however, I got to work in the kitchen. I put together an organic Swiss chard soup for Rob and made a bratwurst stew, half of which I shared with Barb and Jerry. Pups have now been walked. Kitchen is cleaned. Mom is in bed. And I am beat! I treated myself to a lemon coconut water. Tomorrow, I will try a blueberry/spinach/coconut water breakfast drink (grâce à Barb). At least the blueberries sound appetizing. But I did buy a blueberry kefir at the Giant. A happier substitute perhaps.

Am looking forward to a good night’s sleep and to waking to a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me. Nina Simone, take it away!!!!!!!!

 

Saturday, August 2, 2014

I have said many times that I don’t want to live as long as my mother has. For one, there will be no one to look after me. Two, I don’t want to burden anyone.

My wish will probably come true. Living like this is hell already. Lucia, my 15-year-old pup, had an accident in the kitchen. Fortunately, it wasn’t on a rug or carpet and was easy to clean. No real harm done. But each morning, I walk carefully in the bedroom, lest I step on something I had not previously noticed. 

I was tired and went upstairs to “veg out” in front of the TV for a while. Rob came in later and announced that mom was in the bathroom. I ran downstairs to find her back in her clothing and wiping her hands on the towel we leave for her. She had thrown away her diaper. Apparently it was a mess. The towel she was drying her hands on was also a mess. Her clothes were a mess. The toilet flusher was a mess. The entire role of toilet paper had to be pitched. I put her in the shower, to her great dismay, and washed her till she was clean. I then cleaned the bathroom within an inch of its life, rinsed clothing and towels, and put them in the washer. I even cleaned the handle of her cane. My hands are dry from all the disinfectants. But mom is clean and back in her room watching television. And I am tired. Very tired.

Rob just came in and said he washed the bathroom floor. Good man. I just couldn’t get to it. Am hoping mom and Lucia will relax for the rest of the night. Need to buy another box of exam gloves. It’s all the mode in this household.

 

 

Friday, August 1, 2014

I think I am getting over my allergy stupor. All the dust from the roofers, chimney repair, and gutter installers, plus the mold from all the rain just got to me. Today, even though more rain is pending, I feel a bit more human and must less like curling up in bed for a week. Still, I slog through. Mom is slated to see the chiropractor again today. She’ll protest, as is her wont. But she won’t have a choice.

She is badly constipated at the moment, but refuses to drink water. As she sat on the toilet for the third time in 10 minutes this morning, I told her that she needed to drink at least 6 glasses of water a day:

I’ll try to drink some water.

But mom, you’d have to drink the entire glass.

OK, I will. But then don’t fill it up.

Sigh!

 

Later—

Second visit to the chiropractor today. While mom was in the backseat, she loaded up on tissues and nearly emptied the tissue box I keep in the car. But I emptied her pockets and retrieved them all.

 

While she was sitting with the TENS unit attached, she kept up this “conversation”:

Oh I like the color of those curtains. It’s blue, isn’t it.

Yes, it’s very nice, mom.

I wonder where they bought them.

At the store, I’m sure.

Where’s that girl? Where did she go?

She is back in her office. You have to sit here for another 20 minutes.

Where do you think she went?

I don’t know.

Well, how long do I have to sit here?

For 20 minutes.
Why?

You have the TENS unit attached to your back to help relax it.

There’s nothing wrong with my back. Where’s Rob? I haven’t seen him all day.

Well, he fed you breakfast this morning and walked you to the car.

Oh yeah. When did I last see him?

This morning.

Oh yeah.

Is his brother coming to visit?

No mom. He just left.

Oh yeah. So where’s Rob?

At home.

I haven’t seen him for a while. He’s a good man.

Yes he is and you saw him this morning.

I like those curtains. That’s blue isn’t it.

They’re very nice. Where’s that girl?

She’s in her office.

So where’s Rob. I haven’t seen him for a while…