A friend's husband has had MS for at least 6 years. At home, he is in a wheelchair with a part time aide assisting his wife. Hopkins provides treatment, sometimes experimental. He had some spasticity so they inserted a pump to loosen his muscles. Now he is in a rehab center, trying to build up muscle loss due to lack of activity.
My friend called and said she'd like to get in a few days at their beach house; could I go over to the rehab center and feed him his lunch one day this week. Sure, I said but I dreaded it. Feeding a grown man the way you would a baby. Embarrassing for both of us.
I went over today, interrupting an OT session done on his legs in his bed. He was dressed only in underwear, looking frail and vulnerable, and I sat down and averted my eyes. I was relieved when the therapist finished the session and covered him up.
He seemed comfortable where he was but apparently it hadn't always been that way. Initially he was in a double room where the roommate watched TV all night (Food channel) and kept the lights on to boot. Incredibly inconsiderate. Fortunately our friend's his wife complained and pushed for more than a week until our friend was placed in a single room. You have to be a strong advocate - or have one fight for you.
This friend still has a sharp mind. He worked for NSA and told me Snowden was a Russian spy. Had proof. Snowden was bought when he was a NSA contractor, says our friend who is despite the MS, very level headed. Sounds plausible and rather fascinating. So you give and then you get. Life is a continual learning process.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Animal stories
My cleaning woman was surprised Zoey remembered her after we returned from Florida. Then she told me the story of the mule from her country, Guatemala. This mule was owned by a man who sold her to another man from El Salvador, 3 hours by car away. A year later, the mule is back in the first owners yard, emaciated and with marks on her from when she had been tied up. The mule had escaped and amazingly was able to walk back to Guatemala. The second owner tracked her down and wanted her back. No way said the first owner, I'll give you the money back. She belongs here.
My neighbor across the street has a very small yappy show dog. He told me the story of a rabbit in his yard. His back yard is fenced . He walked out there one day with his little dog and there is a rabbit. The rabbit panicked and ran into a corner and tried to get over the fence. She tried and tried and then she fell over panting. Then she died. Of fright. It was a sad story but rather amazing. An animal literally dying of fright.
My neighbor across the street has a very small yappy show dog. He told me the story of a rabbit in his yard. His back yard is fenced . He walked out there one day with his little dog and there is a rabbit. The rabbit panicked and ran into a corner and tried to get over the fence. She tried and tried and then she fell over panting. Then she died. Of fright. It was a sad story but rather amazing. An animal literally dying of fright.
Our silly dog
When our dog Rebe had to be put to sleep, my grief had no boundaries, tied up as it was with guilt for not doing enough and yet doing too much.. I still have so much "reactivated trauma" thinking about her that last winter of her life two years ago that I have to shut out the memories.
Three months after Rebe died, we had a new dog, Zoey, found by my neighbor in the Pets For Adoption section of the local newspaper. I had mentioned to this neighbor that we were thinking of getting another dog. It seemed too soon but my grief needed a distraction.
So into our lives came Zoey. She is a character. I'd look at her at first and feel a little sad thinking we are her whole life and yet she doesn't know I can't ever love her as much as I loved Rebe. But now I do.
Two years now we've had Zoey and, really, she is a sweet companion, smart and silly. Rebe never barked. Maybe 5 times I heard her bark and it was a strange deep unnatural sound. Zoey barks, cries and whines and actually that's a good thing. She barks at strangers coming to the door. She has another kind of greeting bark for people she knows. She whines and cries when she sees a strange animal outside.
Unlike Rebe, she has only known kindness in her life.
When my husband comes home from work she gets excited, barks and runs out to greet him. Then, later I will be reading on our sofa upstairs. My husband will join me and flip on the TV. That's when Zoey hops up between us and crawls into my lap like a puppy. Then she rolls over in my arms, a big 40 lb baby. She is actually jealous of our interaction. It is hilarious to see this grown dog curled up in my arms, demanding attention.
Dogs are so transparent. But their emotions run deep.
Three months after Rebe died, we had a new dog, Zoey, found by my neighbor in the Pets For Adoption section of the local newspaper. I had mentioned to this neighbor that we were thinking of getting another dog. It seemed too soon but my grief needed a distraction.
So into our lives came Zoey. She is a character. I'd look at her at first and feel a little sad thinking we are her whole life and yet she doesn't know I can't ever love her as much as I loved Rebe. But now I do.
Two years now we've had Zoey and, really, she is a sweet companion, smart and silly. Rebe never barked. Maybe 5 times I heard her bark and it was a strange deep unnatural sound. Zoey barks, cries and whines and actually that's a good thing. She barks at strangers coming to the door. She has another kind of greeting bark for people she knows. She whines and cries when she sees a strange animal outside.
Unlike Rebe, she has only known kindness in her life.
When my husband comes home from work she gets excited, barks and runs out to greet him. Then, later I will be reading on our sofa upstairs. My husband will join me and flip on the TV. That's when Zoey hops up between us and crawls into my lap like a puppy. Then she rolls over in my arms, a big 40 lb baby. She is actually jealous of our interaction. It is hilarious to see this grown dog curled up in my arms, demanding attention.
Dogs are so transparent. But their emotions run deep.
Catastrophising
Maybe the spelling is wrong but here's the point. Some people wring their hands when something bad happens, catastrophizing and driving themselves crazy and people think, OK it's bad. It's a crisis. What do I do? What's the next step toward a solution?
My husband falls into the first category. Yesterday after a particularly bad storm, a tree in our yard was uprooted and fell -smashed actually- into my daylily beds. Just as the daylilies are starting to bloom!
When trees are vertical, they don't look that big but when they fall they can be suddenly monstrous. This tree was a monster, smashing even another tree.
I looked out the window at 6 :30 am and saw the damage. Then I told my husband who became distraught. He paced and catastrophized not just about the large tree uprooted and covering our yard but about everything bad that has ever happened to us, as if trees falling aren't an event that periodically just happens to everyone. Frankly, I looked at us as lucky. The tree didn't fall on our house or car. It could have been much worse. Plus, maybe my daylilies would get more sun next year. There's always tomorrow as the song goes.
I immediately made a list of the tree people who had done work for us in the past. My husband kept whining. Called three companies by 7 a.m. Got the voice mail for 2 companies and the sleepy voice of the wife of one company owner. She said "Mike" would be right over. He came around 9 with three massive trucks and four men. By this time my husband was off to work, leaving this to me to handle..
The tree guys got to work and cut up the tree, shoved the wood into a grinder on the truck in an hour. The charge was reasonable and I even had a bonus. A big bonus.
I have been trying to get the guy who owns the cottage next to ours in Southern Maryland to cut branches off his massive and aging Tulip Poplar. That would be a true disaster if a branch fell from about 60 feet up on our little cottage. But the tree company needed his permission which he never bothered to give. I had called repeatedly the neighbor. Always voice mail. So I called him again while the chain saws buzzed in the background. Got his wife. She said, put them on. So I put Mike on and she gave permission to cut the branches on the Tulip Poplar. I said I could meet him at the cottage that afternoon but he said he'd see he had to deal with the emergencies first. Now that Tulip Poplar is a true emergency in the making.....Forewarned is forearmed.
My husband falls into the first category. Yesterday after a particularly bad storm, a tree in our yard was uprooted and fell -smashed actually- into my daylily beds. Just as the daylilies are starting to bloom!
When trees are vertical, they don't look that big but when they fall they can be suddenly monstrous. This tree was a monster, smashing even another tree.
I looked out the window at 6 :30 am and saw the damage. Then I told my husband who became distraught. He paced and catastrophized not just about the large tree uprooted and covering our yard but about everything bad that has ever happened to us, as if trees falling aren't an event that periodically just happens to everyone. Frankly, I looked at us as lucky. The tree didn't fall on our house or car. It could have been much worse. Plus, maybe my daylilies would get more sun next year. There's always tomorrow as the song goes.
I immediately made a list of the tree people who had done work for us in the past. My husband kept whining. Called three companies by 7 a.m. Got the voice mail for 2 companies and the sleepy voice of the wife of one company owner. She said "Mike" would be right over. He came around 9 with three massive trucks and four men. By this time my husband was off to work, leaving this to me to handle..
The tree guys got to work and cut up the tree, shoved the wood into a grinder on the truck in an hour. The charge was reasonable and I even had a bonus. A big bonus.
I have been trying to get the guy who owns the cottage next to ours in Southern Maryland to cut branches off his massive and aging Tulip Poplar. That would be a true disaster if a branch fell from about 60 feet up on our little cottage. But the tree company needed his permission which he never bothered to give. I had called repeatedly the neighbor. Always voice mail. So I called him again while the chain saws buzzed in the background. Got his wife. She said, put them on. So I put Mike on and she gave permission to cut the branches on the Tulip Poplar. I said I could meet him at the cottage that afternoon but he said he'd see he had to deal with the emergencies first. Now that Tulip Poplar is a true emergency in the making.....Forewarned is forearmed.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Frustrated
An hour wasted. I'm sooo OCD. Why did I keep trying. Circular solutions. Can't access my old retiredladychronicles blog account on this new computer. Can't add, can't correct. I set this new one up as Part 2 reluctantly. Lets see if it works even. Damn damn damn.
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