Friday, August 22, 2014

From Isle del Cabello Azul

 
Geez, it has been a while since I've written mostly because I was in chaos.  I have definitely slipped as the Poster Child of Caregivers and really lost it the other night.  The stress of moving has taken a toll on both of us I think and we are working our way out of it, some days better than others.  I had had a difficult day this week with the diverticulitis kicking in, a sinus infection and a trip to a new doc who let me know that I need surgery to fix the bladder problem...there is a poem in here somewhere resembling The Vagina Monologues.  When my innards are acting up, I want comfort food like a baked potato with maybe a salad from Wendy's.  So off we went to Wendy's and picked up two baked potatoes and two salads and brought them home.  I plopped in front of the TV with my salad after taking everything out of the bag leaving He-Who-Can't-Remember-Shit to pick up his and join me.  He-Who chose a baked potato and joined me.  I was pretty relaxed finally and looking forward to my baked potato but when I went to pick mine up off the dining room table, it was gone.  He-Who's salad was still there but no baked potato.  He-Who had eaten them both.  I burst into tears and sobbed...sobbed for the disappointment of no potato when that was what I so wanted but I think really sobbed because of his loss of not realizing what he was doing.  There has been a lot of that around here since the move.  He-Who went on to his salad and I went to bed but he did apologize later.  I think I needed that good cry.


Okay so She-Who-Pees-A-Lot and He-Who-Can't-Remember-Shit have moved into an independent living facility that has a lot of Depend-ent living going on.  Geez but it takes a lot of getting used to.  Don't get me wrong...everyone is really nice, lovely actually but there are just a lot of really old people here on a lot of walkers and scooters.  And some days in the dining hall I look around and get really sad thinking that I might live the rest of my life in here...holy moly.  But I have a delightful neighbor in her 80s who moved in a few months before us who said to me, "I was really depressed for a few months and then told myself..this is as good as it gets so get over it." Very wise woman...I love her.  So I'm working on dealing with it.  I knew the move would set He-Who back some and I suppose he is doing as well as can be expected, maybe better.  It was difficult at first as Comcast couldn't get our TV hooked up for a month and I was so busy getting settled, changing banks, pharmacy, etc. that I couldn't take him much of anywhere. He read the newspapers over and over. He still doesn't venture out of the apartment without me to go to any of the programs offered here and I'm hoping that will change.  His brother comes sometimes and takes him out for breakfast or lunch which helps but He-Who doesn't reach out to the other guys who live here.  Maybe that is a guy thing but I realize he didn't do any of that before we moved.  I'm still trying to get his computer working.

And there is humor in all of this, a lot of humor if I watch for it.
While at the front desk one morning to ask a question of the receptionist, a tiny little ancient lady dressed to the nines was in dialogue with the receptionist about some issue.
Receptionist:  "Just use your cell phone."
TLAL: "Honey, I don't do cell phones.  I don't even remember how to do sex.  I'm 100 years old."

Below us on the 1rst floor is another ancient one who only comes out at night as far as I can tell.  There is all this pigeon poop outside her door all over the walk and some planters which is really disgusting to walk through to get to our car. There is a rule here to not feed any critters, birds included. Obviously the old one downstairs is feeding the pigeons and occasionally I see a little plastic up of food put out her door for them.   Occasionally the staff gets on her about it and she quits for a while.  Well, when she does, the pigeons move upstairs to our floor and porch and start pecking around the plants.  A neighbor down the walkway sits on our porch with a giant water rifle and spends her afternoon shooting at them.  I wish I had a picture...crazy war on pigeons.

There's more but that is for another time.  Please don't give up on me...I will try to get going again on a more regular schedule.  Haven't found a support group, trying to start one but did start a book club and that is going well and I joined a writers' group.  One step at a time...amen.

12 comments:

  1. Glad to see that you are blogging again. I'm sure that you will help a lot of people that are in the same boat. Wishing you the strength you need to deal with your situation.

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    1. Thanks...it is always good to know someone is reading this.

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  2. Thanks...I am learning to take a lot of deep breaths

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  3. Kay I laughed out loud at your tale of the Pigeon War. It is surprising how small things assume an importance out of all proportion as our life narrows. I love the illustration. Are you still finding time to paint? If you are on Facebook there are some very good sites where you can share your work and view other. I am on several but particularly like one called Art for All.

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    1. Thanks, Anne. The pigeon war continues...now they are coming back in droves as my neighbor with the water gun has been out of town for a few days and the roofers have cleared out.

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  4. Really enjoyed your post, been checking in regularly to see if you were back.I am home bound at 56 due to a heart lung condition so I don't get out much either but I do join a lot of online things. My IPad is my best friend! I have a friend in your posistion that I recommended your blog too and she enjoyed it very much she said.I nearly cried too when I read about the loss of your baked potato!!! My choice at Wendy's too way down here in the Southern Hemisphere. it is indeed a small world!!

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    1. Thanks, Leila. Isn't it crazy that the baked potato thing could be the "straw that broke the camel's back" so to speak. Thanks for the comment and do come back.

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  5. Kay, I moved my entire household twice in the last 6 months. Moving ranks way up there on the stress level after death and divorce. I don't have your challenges and I still feel rattled. Hang in there.

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    1. Oh my, twice in 6 months...major stress for sure. This is the first time we have moved that we haven't been able to move all our stuff with us...going from 3000 sq ft to 1000 meant a big letting go. We may have to make another move later if my husband needs a memory care facility. Thanks for your comments...blogging is like a shout into the wilderness...you never know if anyone is listening.

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  6. I love that self portrait. Well, geez, it's been rough all around. I totally understand needing a good cry - I think this is a girl thing because men seem to think crying physically hurts and generally, I think women get a good cleansing out of it. Sometimes all it takes is a baked potato. Especially if there were butter and chives involved. I think you're doing pretty good considering all the massive change you've been through in such a short period of time. This kind of stress is bound to break anyone up and you are the one who handles it all. Ken would, but he can't, so it's on you and you're doing great. But you totally deserved the cry. And the potato. Love you very much, Kay.

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    1. Thanks, Kristin...maybe some cheese with the butter and chives. You've had a bit of stress yourself lately...looking forward to hearing you are all into your new home.

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