An American Moment

Dad has been in rehab four days.  He's working hard and is completely pooped by day's end.  If all goes well, his predicted release date is February 20.

Since it's an election year, Dad has been watching as many debates as he can manage.  Even though they sound pretty much the same.  The number of players has dwindled, but the accusations and fault-finding fly freely every time.  Me, oh my, what a great country.  

The Florida primary is Tuesday.  I pray there is a clear winner.  No recounts, no brawls dragged into court.  Since the 2000 hanging chad debacle, we Floridians want some other state to be the fly in the ointment.  (Maybe this year it will be North Dakota.  I never hear anything about North Dakota.  It could use a little publicity.) 

Being in rehab, Dad has been wondering how he will get to vote this year.   He and Mom take very seriously this privilege that has been fought for and sacrificed for over generations.  They love and appreciate this county like nobody else I know.

So, my husband checked into how someone who's not mobile can vote.  Turns out you can pick up a form for them to sign that gives you permission to bring them a ballot.  My husband got the form, Dad signed it, my husband returned it and was given a ballot.

Then, in a rehab gown with a milkshake nearby, Dad voted.

Since this is normally a private event (notice the curtain pulled between Dad and his roommate), we did what we usually do.  We took a picture.

We'll probably never again see anyone actually cast their ballot.  It's kind of monumental and touching.

In the Ballpark, this is probably the most significant thing that happened today.

Fits and Misfits

Dad is back in the Rehab Adventure!

Dad moved to Sea Pines rehab yesterday and is eager to get started.  He'll have both PT and OT.  He's been at Sea Pines before, and it's a good fit for him.  Here he is in his new room.

Our daughter is showing him the visual journal she's been working on.

Mom is managing OK without him at home.  It's times like these, when one is away, that I'm so grateful they moved to Southland.   The one holding down the home front is surrounded by a caring staff, and life feels fairly stable. 

I snapped a picture of Mom in her fancy new PJs the other night.

The PJs looked blurry, but Mom didn't, so I got a close-up of the pattern.

And they looked even blurrier.

On closer examination, I realized the fabric itself is blurry.  The hearts have fuzzy edges, even though you try to blink them away.   If you stare at them, you get dizzy. 

These are Vera Wang PJs that were originally forty bucks.  They were on sale for seventeen, probably because people who looked at them too long in the store fell over.

I had a coupon, so I got them for eleven dollars.  Mom likes them because they are cozy and warm, but they might be a hazard.  When Dad comes home, they might make him more wobbly than he already is.

I unknowingly purchased another goofy item last week.

Sheets were on sale at Target.  I can always use sheets, so I bought a satiny queen set.  Because we live in sunny Florida and never see things like snowmen and ear muffs, I'm a sucker for patterns like this...

These were only five dollars, so I grabbed them.

When I attempted to put them on our bed, the fitted sheet didn't fit.  It was clearly a twin size.

I checked the package; clearly said QUEEN.

I was disappointed, but realized I could use them on the twin bed in the guest room.

I made up the guest room bed yesterday.  The fitted sheet is definitely a twin.  When I flapped the flat sheet over the bed, it hung to the floor on both sides of the bed.

What?

I checked the tag on the corner of the sheet: QUEEN. 

I checked the tag on the fitted sheet:  TWIN.

I pulled the pillowcases out of the sack.  There were two.  With the way this set was slapped together, I was expecting one.  Or three.

Anyhoo...we now have snowmen in two rooms.  The guest bed has fitted snowmen and flat white sheets; our bed has blue fitted and snowmen flat sheets.  Each room has a snowman pillowcase.  I hope all the snowmen don't miss each other. 

If Mom, in her blurry PJs, sat on a mismatched-sheet bed, it would probably give you a headache to look at them.  

Update on Papa Bear

Day four in the hospital.

Papa bear and Granddaughter bear

Dad is stable, but restless.  The stress test that was scheduled today did not occur.   It should take place tomorrow morning. 

Dad had some PT today, and the therapist suggested that Dad might need to go to rehab before heading home to Southland.  I'm hoping he can get the therapy he needs at Southland.  He will rest better at home, and he and Mom will be together.  We'll see what the wonderful Dr. R. thinks.   Dr. R. also wants a therapeutic coumadin level before Dad can be released.  Currently, its a bit low.  That will probably take another day or two.

The good news is that the neurologist has ruled out any new stroke event.  In fact, all the tests done so far have been normal.

There is speculation that this recent episode might have been an anxiety attack.  Dad has not been feeling well for a couple weeks.   The neurologist explained that when the system is weak or compromised for any reason, symptoms from his old stroke can reappear.  Of course, this is frightening, so Dad becomes tense.  This makes breathing difficult, which limits oxygen and can cause naseau/weakness.  Add another trigger - like a painful and protracted blood draw - and the body reacts.

We don't know yet, for sure, but if the stress test is clean, Dr. R. will lean towards anxiety.  Which is, really, good news, because that is manageable. 

So, we wait.

In the meantime, Dad had a good visit with our daughter last night.  She greased him up with Cetaphil, which he said felt wonderful.   These two are like peas in a pod. 

My husband visited him tonight and took him a strawberry milkshake.   

And Janey baby is back on his table tray.

So, I think Dad would say life is tolerable. 

Mom is doing fine on her own.  She got some new PJs yesterday.  And new hearing aids today.  She finally got the last of her Christmas cards mailed out, so she's back on schedule, after fighting off the gut bug.

As I was out all day, our daughter, who worked all day, but got home before I did, made her yummy squash pizza again.  I got a picture of the whole thing this time.

My husband was leery, then ate three pieces.   You can't judge a pizza by its lack of tomato sauce.

More updates as they date up.

love,

Butternut Flatbread (or Squash Pizza)

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New Year ER Run

I'm watching Rick Santorum and Newt Gingrich argue.  Mitt Romney jumps in now and then.  These guys have got to be exhausted.  Months and months of the same discussions.  I wonder if they play Angry Birds when they get home from these debates.  It would probably do them all some good.

Mom was going to watch the debates from Southland tonight.  Dad was planning to watch them from his hospital room.  He was in the ER when I left him, so I hope he's settled in a room by this late hour.

He wasn't feeling well when we visited the wonderful Dr. R. today for Dad's three-month check.  Dad has not regained his strength since his bout with the gut bug two weeks ago.  He's been winded of late, just out of breath with the shortest of activities.  Dr. R. sent us for blood work right after our appointment.

At the hospital lab, the tech had trouble finding a good vein to poke.  After three sticks, the tech summoned his supervisor.  She was able to draw two vials of blood, and Dad was released.

On his way back into the waiting room, he felt faint and nauseous and had trouble walking.  Some very nice techs called for a wheelchair.  When Dad complained that he couldn't get his breath, the larger tech announced he was taking Dad to the ER, and off he went.  I scrambled behind him with Dad's walker.

In the ER, Dad was given oxygen and began to feel better.  Once gowned and bedded, he received an EKG, which was normal.  The doc came in and ordered tests and more blood work.  Dad was not looking forward to being poked again.  He was still wearing four stretchy arm bands from his visit to the lab an hour before.

So began the wait.

An hour later, my husband arrived, and I left to visit Mom and explain why Dad and I have been gone for four hours.  The wonderful Dr. R. checked in and said he was ordering for Dad a neuro work-up and a cardio work-up.  This means Dad will likely be in the hospital two or three days.

By debate time, Dad had eaten a sandwich.  The tests that had come in so far were all normal.  No new stroke activity, no heart attack.  This is good news.  I'll visit Dad in the morning and see if there are any new developments.   

When I got home after all the excitement, I found a delicious pizza our daughter had made for dinner, bless her heart.  It consisted of homemade dough, butternut squash, red onion, radicchio and chunks of mozzarella.  No tomato sauce, no pepperoni.  Very interesting and absolutely yummy.

I may commission her to make this every week.  God bless those who make dinner.

And strong, quick-thinking techs who can race a wheel chair through hospital corridors faster than I can blink.  

Fed Up In Florida

Dear God,

I don't know how you do it.  Staying on top of every one's issues. 

Do you get tired of all the complaints?  All the whining.  You must be tempted to just unplug the switchboard now and then and climb into bed with a good book.  That would be an interesting list: Reading material on God's nightstand.

I've spent three days working on a computer project, and it's produced nothing but aggravation and fatigue.   It's a time-consuming process, and the program I was using kept being attacked by a virus.  Either that, or it simply froze, mid-project.  

I got so frustrated.  And discouraged.   I have a vision...I know what I'm trying to create...and I can't get it.

The tools are out there, but they're not perfect.   Neither is the user.

Maybe I'm in over my head.  Maybe I'm wasting my time.  I just don't know. 

So I'm venting to you.  Because I figure you've had days, or centuries, like this.  You have a plan, and the parties involved just don't cooperate.  You know what that's like, don't you?

How do you deal with that?  You repeatedly work with faulty elements, and you just keep investing.  How do you not throw your hands up and say, Forget it. These humans are not worth it. 

I know a measly computer project is not on the same level as your relationship with the human race.  I'm a measly human, so my comparisons will be grandly disproportionate.  Perseverance is the question. 

I'm so frustrated.  I've had a three-day headache.  Maybe I need to work on this project I love for six days and then rest on the seventh, like you did.  Maybe I just need to bag it.  

Any insight you have would be appreciated.  You have my email address.


love,
you-know-who

An Unwanted Visitor

The day of my last post - the post I wrote about my folks recovering from the Norovius - that day - I got the Norovirus.

That very evening.

For twelve hours.

I slept (or didn't sleep) on the couch and raced to the bathroom every thirty minutes.   It reminded me of labor, where the pain stops just long enough to doze, and then it's at you again.

I can see why sleep deprivation is used for interrogations.  I was promising this bug and God anything (I'll never eat pizza again), if they would just let me sleep.  The Norovirus is an ugly enemy.  I think it looks like this.

Then, there's the sore butt thing.  Let's just be honest.  Toxins repeatedly coming out your backside begin to wreak havoc.   Vaseline was my best friend for about 24 hours.   Maybe that's too much information.

Once the symptoms stopped, I was pooped.   Or pooped out, I should say.  For two days, I lay on the sofa, sipped ginger ale and passed in and out of consciousness.  I think my husband checked on me now and then, but I don't remember.   He must have brought me the pineapple/mango smoothie that tasted so wonderful. 

Today, I got up and got dressed.  It wore me out.  I was delighted to see I have lost four pounds, but am aware that as soon as I eat a carrot, they will return.

I don't feel like looking at food yet, so I'm taking it slow.  For breakfast, I ate half a piece of toast and a chocolate-covered marshmallow.

Now, I'm going to take a nap.

Hopefully, the next post will be less disgusting.

Getting a Glimpse

My parents got sick just over a week ago with the Norovirus.  It's a nasty gut bug that kept them in the bathroom for four days.  It's kept them in bed for several days more.

I saw them Wednesday after not seeing them for six days.   Of the 70 or so residents at this ALF, 38 were sick.  The health department had strongly suggested no visitors in the building for a week.

Dad has a lingering headache and a sore stomach.  Mom is down to 100 pounds.  They are eating things like applesauce and soup, and don't really want many other options.  My husband took Dad a cherry Slurpee last night, which he thoroughly enjoyed.

At 88 and 91, it's a slow recovery from a bug that wreaks havoc on your system for a week.   I think my folks are probably both dehydrated, although they tell me they are drinking water.   I never feel like they drink enough. 

The Southland staff has been great and kept me posted on how my folks have weathered the week.

But....it was disconcerting not seeing them for so long.

I usually see them every day, sometimes every other day, if they're busy. 

When I finally saw them, it struck me how vulnerable they are.   When they are well and moving around, they don't seem their ages.   They actually never have.

They've always been outreaching and involved.   They have always been worker bees.   It's part of the Greatest Generation persona: work and contribute until you fall over. 

That's what makes them Great.  

My folks with the future ex-clown and yours truly.  Early 70's.

Sometimes, I have to admit, I feel lazy in comparison.   I'll work half a day, then I need a nap.  Or at least a cup of tea and a cookie.

Us Baby Boomers...I don't know what we are.   We're more like the Good Enough Generation.  We can certainly work hard, but then we have to launch some angry birds, or hit the local Starbucks.

It's just not the same.

Anyhoo....I missed my folks this week.   I got the Christmas stuff packed away and cleaned half the house, but there was a restless void that gave me a glimpse of what life will be like when my parents are gone.

Picture taken this morning.  Apparently at 10:32.

I realized I'm not ready for that.