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.