Its always emotional around here!

So Ruthie, I'm starting a new job this week; I sort of started last week. It's at Patient First. We took you there once to have your hand stitched and give you a tetanus shot. I also applied and interviewed at HCGH for my old job. I haven't heard back from them yet but I will follow up next week. I'm not sure if I want to go there or not. I want to see what PF is like first. So far everyone's been nice to me and it doesn't seem to stressful, like what I had before. I have to have faith in myself and stop fearing everything. I can do this. Please watch over me and guide me through this, I still need your help in that department.

Daddy I'm sorry, I tried to get your house together. I'm sure whoever buys it will make it a nice home, just like you did. I love you. Please watch over me. Please watch over Uncle Jerry, Aunt Annette, Uncle Fred, and Aunt Beah. I can't imagine life without them. We have the big reunion planned for next summer too, and they HAVE TO BE THERE!!!

PS, How bout them Packers? GO PACK GO!

Its almost official...summer 2015 is over.

I love summer. Despite the fact that it was the worst summer ever besides maybe 2008.  But, summer is coming to an end. The teachers went back this week, the kids go back next week. I'm not sure how I feel about this. It means 2 things--time is flying by. Time is distancing me from June 14.

The house stuff has been on hold, thank God, for about 2 1/2 weeks now, which I guess is good only because I started working yesterday and I don't really have the brain capacity to deal with anything more. I'm praying that it just goes smoothly and I can fly under the radar. Its getting to be a pain in the ass just to walk the poor dogs everyday! LET ALONE RUN! And I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't had a chance to ride the bike I was dying to have. As I type, my left leg muscles are twitching. I'm trying to guzzle as much water as I can since I'll be at the Orioles game tonight and it is hot out.

I'm not going to quit. I'm not done, I just haven't focused on this and put it in my daily routine like you would if you were really organized :P I have goals and dreams and despite what all the cute memes on the internet say, they're damn hard to accomplish!

I've got some actual "homework" to do for work--I gotta brush up on some actual nursing topics. My cardiac drugs, vaccinations, pediatrics in general; shit. Everything? I just spent 5 years babysitting adults who could hardly handle walking to a fucking dining room to eat a meal. Juice and cookies?? None for you! Or, here are you meds..."THESE AREN'T MY MEDS BITCH!" *sigh* I have keys. You don't. If you want to leave this shithole, I suggest you take them...

There are a lot of things I want to write in here but I don't think they are appropriate considering that I am aiming this blog to be more about the grieving process I'm experiencing with my parents and what I'm doing to combat that.

Work will definitely help with that. I need to incorporate some exercise into this. I need a left leg to stop giving me fits too! And the weather hasn't been all that wonderful either, very hot and humid. It's one thing when its the beginning of the summer and its new, but now that we're weeks into it, it's getting old. I'd rather sit at the pool. I wish I had someone to go to the pool with me :( It gets lonely being there. I'm not watching kids there like I used to back in the day, and Travis doesn't like to go. So I'm stuck alone. Watching all the mom's and dad's and their kids. And when I go to the River Hill pool, I  feel like the pauper who is visiting the prince's neighborhood!!! I have loads of ideas for short stories and book topics...but thats a whole separate thing that again, doesn't relate to this blog. Oh you didn't know? I will write a book someday...I'm not sure exactly what about but I will. Fiction I suppose, because writing about my life or experiences seems too hard and painful. Plus I'm sure I'd offend someone. Can't do that now can we?

Maybe by the next time I write in here I'll have something worthy of writing about. A run, a bike ride, something.

This is my Uncle David, my mom's little brother.

And his daughter Kari and her daughter Mary Louise. Uncle David's 69th birthday was

last week :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love these people to death <3

You were born this way, baby

I can't help it I was born last, the 6th of 6. I am so thankful to be born in such a great area. Columbia has been a really awesome place to grow up and work in. I have a love/hate relationship with it---it's so expensive to live in. But there's so many perks so its worth the price in my opinion. Who knows, maybe one day I will buy a house around here.
Any who, that wasn't the point of this posting.

I got my bike today!!!!! I GOT MY BICYCLE! I WANT TO RIDE MY BICYCLE! oops sorry, got a little excited :P   Had to lower the seat, like, Compton style,  and then tilt that thing down so it's not up my who-ha like a ....yah.

Rode for a few minutes just to get used to it. I am in love. Will get back out tomorrow. I need to figure out the shoes though. No clips. And form and posture. I need to learn that. And for god sakes is there a long flat surface ANYWHERE in this damn town? I need to practice lol. Iowa is full of hills, like any roads. Don't tell me its flat because no where is completely flat. Except North Dakota where you can watch your dog run away for 2 hours. (That was a recent joke posted on Facebook too.)

I told my Aunt Beah today about my bike and how I want to ride with her kids (my cousins) Troy and Ty and my second cousins Andy, Lucas, and whomever else is in on this ride. My other cousin Putzy is doing it again this summer too, but with his own group I guess. It's going to be a blast! I'm dying for this moment to be with my family. I'm praying it all works out so I can do it.

Speaking of family, my dad's brother, my Uncle Jerry, well his wife is in the hospital. Aunt Annette. Dear sweet Annette. She broke her ankle too! I am praying for a smooth recovery. Poor Uncle Jerry, can't catch a break.  My Aunt Beah's husband, my Uncle Fred is trying to get well so he can go on his guys fishing trip with his boys and grand kids. I hope he can enjoy it all--he has cancer too; partial lobectomy done...what a troopah. Seriously, does every get sick all in the same 5 year span??? I guess
I better live it up now :) Better keep dancin like we're 22 as Taylor Swift says. ;)

I talked to my Uncle David tonight. His 69th birthday is this week. Holy shit where does the time go? He's the young oops like me on my mom's side. So next year will be the big 70, thats means another party. I feel like I've got 5 vacations planned already for next year. I hope I can pull them all off.

It is possible i might get up and run in the morning tomorrow...In fact I think I'll try. Ruthie I'm going to try to bust out a run for ya. A short one, maybe Lake Elkhorn. Since its been almost 3 weeks. I gotta get back out there. Must stay active. Stop drinking iced coffee and other sugary drinks!! No more red meat. We will be getting some fish up in this house!!!! Anyway.

Keep sending me love from above <3 <3

That is Lidgerwood, North Dakota, Main Street? 1908. When my grandmother was a little bitty girl. I think she lived some where nearby on a farm though. But I've been on that main street. and I vaguely remember it. Thats where it all began, were my grandparents met and married and started their awesome family, and all the love in my heart comes from <3

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier article

My uncle sent me a forward about this topic, so I further checked in on it because part of it didn't sound right. Not being about to talk and not drinking alcohol forever? Didn't make sense. However, this is still a very cool article and I wanted to save it somewhere. My dad probably already knew everything in it too :)  I have yet to visit ANC and would like to at some point, maybe this fall if possible.

“ARLINGTON’S TOMB OF UNKNOWNS: SENTINELS AT THE TOMB WALK EXACTLY THIS MANY STEPS AT A TIME BEFORE THEY STOP & TURN”

In terms of my own discoveries, I wasn’t sure if the right name is Tomb of the Unknown Soldier or the Tomb of the Unknowns. It turns out that it is commonly known by both, but there is no official name.

Herewith, a breakdown of the still-circulating email.

TOMB OF THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER AT ARLINGTON CEMETERY

1. How many steps does the guard take during his walk across the Tomb of the Unknowns and why?
   ANS: 21 steps: It alludes to the twenty-one-gun salute which is the highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.
   Snopes says: The guards do make 21-step walks past the Tomb of the Unknowns because 21 is considered a number of special significance. It relates to a naval “code” of canons on land replying with 21 shots to a ship’s 7-gun salute. Read here for the origins of the 21-gun salute.
2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his return walk and why?ANS: 21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1.
   Snopes says: This is a somewhat true but incomplete statement. The guard does not execute an about-face, and there is more involved in the procedure than is described here. This other site describes the process more precisely.
3. Why are his gloves wet?
   ANS: His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the rifle.
   Snopes says: Correct.
4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time and, if not, why not? |
   ANS: He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb. After his march across the path, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.
   Snopes says: OK.
5. How often are the guards changed?
   ANS: Guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
   Snopes says: From 1926 through 1937, the Tomb was guarded only during daylight hours. Ever since 1937, it has been continuously guarded 24 hours a day, every day of the year. Sentinel guards are changed every thirty minutes between 8 AM and 7 PM during the period from early Spring to early Autumn (April 1 through September 30), and every hour between 8 AM to 5 PM the rest of the year. At all other times (i.e., while the cemetery is closed), the guard is changed every two hours.
6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?
   ANS: For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be between 5′ 10′ and 6′ 2′ tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30.

Other claims in the email:

They must commit 2 years of life to guard the tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb…,
Snopes says: Incorrect. “Sentinels at the Tomb do not have to commit to serving there for any fixed period of time, and the average tour of duty is only about half the two year period claimed here. Like most servicemen, Tomb guards may live either on-base … or off-base in housing of their choosing.

…[they] cannot drink any alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives.
Snopes says: Incorrect. There are no restrictions on guards’ off-duty drinking.

After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only 400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin.
Snopes says: Incorrect. The badge is worn on the pocket of a uniform jacket, not a pin worn on the lapel.

The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt.
Snopes says: Incorrect. The shoes are standard issue military dress shoes.

The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone nor watch TV.
Snopes says: Incorrect. “A Tomb guard’s behavior is not so stringently regulated that he is prohibited from speaking to anyone for a full six months (someone seems to have confused the Old Guard with a monastery!), and guards may do whatever they want (including watching TV) during their off-duty hours.”

Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for guard duty.
Snopes says: Correct.

POST SCRIPTUM FROM SNOPES

Although serving as President of the United States qualifies one to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, only two former Presidents are interred there: William Howard Taft and John F. Kennedy.

POST SCRIPTUM IN THE EMAIL

The email I received went on with a further tribute:

In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknowns were given permission to suspend the assignment. They respectfully declined the offer, “No way, Sir!” Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a service person. The tomb has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.

In any event, while there are some inaccuracies in the email, the intention is good. This post is my small little tribute to the men and women who serve and a special salute to the guards.

By the way: The word TOMB appears 21 times in the article above!

This entry was posted in history, war, WWII and tagged 21 gun salute, 21 steps, Arlington Cemetery, Jeopardy, Jeopardy question, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Tomb of the Unknowns by minterdial. Bookmark the permalink.

Downsizing Dad's life to a few boxes

So I'm back to NOT running again.

I've been trying to clean out the house. I didn't realize how much shit I have! And my dad! His den is almost done. Gotta disconnect the cable *sigh* and give the TV to Kelly and take the recliner into the other room. WE ARE keeping it. Not them.  No one bought it for him, so I am keeping it. She's wants the TV, the truck, and his bedroom furniture, I'm keeping the goddamn recliner. He sat in it EVERY DAY. Bugsy would climb on his lap; Maddie would, occasionally Tessie would. Everyone but Tessie would nap with him on that recliner. I'm keeping it. Try to argue with me, I will shut you down.

Yes that's my mood. I've been so freaking moody its not even funny. Oh gosh its horrible! This has been the worst fucking year of my life, besides last year. I swear to God 2016 better be worth it!

Some good things happened this year. I had a life changing surgery, I'm learning to run and bike, and I'm losing weight that will never come back again. I did make a difference in my mother's life, and I'd like to think I made a difference in my father's life too. I have been a devoted daughter, I've sacrificed to make their lives better. For that opportunity, I am grateful. I know that sounds weird, but some people don't realize that to care for someone is a privilege. I'm a nurse, thats how I see it. I kid a lot about hating my profession, and I am really discouraged with it and the place I just finished working at. But if I am able to continue in this profession, I think I'll be able to look at it differently then I used to. I really just want to start over in real estate. I want to prove to myself and the rest of the world I can do something like that. Plus I feel like I will enjoy the process. So why not? Remembering that life is short, this makes sense!

I've met some really nice people this year too. Some of them have made lasting impressions on me that I'll never forget. I look forward to keeping their relationships. They are special to me.

My bike is ready, so we can pick it up tomorrow. Tomorrow we have to make a trip to the Good Will. I have to clean out my dad's closet. His suits are in there :( Some of his old shirts, nothing really special. My sister already stole his Aaron Rodgers jersey the day he died; the other 2 Packer's jerseys are safe with my brothers who deserve to have them. I have some of his things are sentimental to me. And perhaps in the future, they will lose that value and I'll give them up. But for now, there's only so much I can handle with throwing out his stuff.  How do people handle this shit? Its gotta be the worst thing ever---going through a loved one's things and trying to figure out what to do with it all. thankfully my mom didn't have a ton of stuff. I'm keeping some of her clothes and I will wash them and I have a project for them--you can make some of the articles of clothing into pillows. Or a blanket. I'd love that. Lord knows when I'll get to that project though!

I hate to say it but I'm still really sad that my siblings are so disconnected from me. There's not much I can do to fix it this week, and I don't know if it will ever change. I know thats part of the reason why I'm not strong and I'm struggling to get through this house stuff. I don't know what to do to fix it yet. Darcy says pray on it; I do but that's like psych meds: it only works 40% of the time. I don't plan on giving up, but I find it difficult to put much hope into at this moment.

The garage is completely empty, by the way. We joked that it hadn't been like that since they week my parents moved into the freshly built house! Sadly, its the truth. But its so weird to see it empty. You can say not to dwell on things, but we just threw out the man's life. Into the dump. It wasn't savable stuff, but at the same time, it was his STUFF.  I hope if I get older and have kids, own a house, and so on that my STUFF doesn't get thrown in the dump. I hope that I don't have a lot of STUFF to begin with. I need to downsize some of my stuff thats boxed up in the basement. I worked on it for 2 days, I have one more day of a few boxes to go through. The rest of it is my STUFF. I'm 35, I have STUFF. If someone thinks that because I've only rented for 10 years that I wouldn't have accumulated things, they are crazy. My one sister has an entire house full of STUFF. Moving for her someday will be a nightmare. And guess who's NOT helping?? :) I'm not going to extend that offer since it wasn't extended to me. In fact, nobody ask me to help them move....ever. I'm never doing it.

Hopefully when we move out of this house we can afford to hire movers because lugging the boxes from the basement around to the front is torture...its up hill coming out...and its all uneven grass. Ugh. Nightmare. And Its my stuff mostly, so Travis isn't thrilled about schlepping my shit to yet another holding tank. (Re: Apartment.)

I couldn't imagine moving across country! As much as I adore my family out there, I'm not sure I can do it because a) parents are buried here b) I want to sell real estate here and c) I'd have to move all my  STUFF! So maybe lots of visits if I can make some good money someday.

I'm not sure how many more times I can possibly play "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift or "Shut Up And Dance" by Walk the Moon but I've probably got a record going. Where were these songs 10-15 years ago when I was young and in that part of the game?? :) I mean, I'm no Taylor Swift and certainly wasn't back then but that was sort of how I thought of dating. I always felt like it was this game, and I was on top of it. (HAHAHAHA couldn't be further from the truth, but thats a girl's ego for ya!) It brought back memories going through my boxes--finding all of this stuff from my first 2 jobs when I was young and dating and "partying" and playing the game. Young and reckless was a good way to put it. It seemed like I had blank space to write some of those names in. "Boys only want  love if its torture" is kind of true at times. As for "Shut Up And Dance" thats just a catchy tune, reminds me of an 80's hit. And we all know the 80's were a happy time for us 30-somethings. That was before life was complicated. Plus it describes how I wish I could just find that special person and go out with them on and dance the cool summer night away and just laugh and have the best time of our lives. For that one night at least.  Like, shut up, don't talk, just enjoy the moment. Live in the moment, be on the same page! I crave that sooooo much. Thats how I know that there isn't going to be a wedding, there isn't going to be a forever. We just aren't on the same page. Unless that changes, I can't do that. Even though my family loves him and he has been through some serious shit with me and my parents, I just don't think its meant to be forever. I'm just not happy. I feel like right now isn't the time to break up. Too many life changing things this year, you don't add to it purposely. At least I can't. Not only that, we are financially dependent on each other. We also just can't quit yet. It hasn't played its way all the way out yet. So, maybe next year? Who knows.  I don't like changing my routine, but then again, what routine? A shitty one that I live every day hating? Makes me think.

This morning I had this flashback memory of the moment we realized back in January that the Packer's weren't going to the Super Bowl, and I cried. And my sister texted me saying she cried too. I remember my dad watching it saying "I don't believe it!" and then of course his phone call with his brother. *SIGH* (That was a big one.) It dissolves into tears. I hate these flashbacks. They seriously kill me. I've been having them since my mom died; for her and now even more for my dad. WTF? Is it like a way of torture? It's working! I had this vision when I was coming home last night from Whole Foods...I was driving past the pool and about to turn to get to my street...there will be a day when I won't go that way, and it won't be our house anymore. I won't have a reason to even be in that area really, other then to visit my friends on the street. I felt a serious 5 seconds of sheer panic. So when that day comes and we move and sell, there won't be any amount of $ that will take that melt down away. I will seriously melt down. It's going to be meltdown day. I'm going to need a serious batch of meds for that day.  And originally, at the beginning of this whole death thing this year, I figured one way to combat this stress would be to run. It usually makes me feel better. And what am I doing? Sitting on my ass, on my laptop eating garlic bread and NOT running lol. My reason and logic is that it's storming, which it is. Pop up storms the rest of the night. I can't safely go do a run. So fine, no biggie. Maybe I can tomorrow night. Who knows.

Sorry Ruthie, I didn't run again this past week. Sorry Daddy, I had to throw out a lot of your stuff. Please forgive me!!!

Repost of My Recap of August 2014, last days with my mom before she moved.

From Friday, August 29, 2014, reposted here from my old blog. Its been one year or so, give or take a few weeks. I could hardly read this without all of the moments and flooding of tears hitting me all at once. 

The Next Phase.

It has been probably the most difficult and stressful summer, besides the summer of 2008. (we all know what was going on in Sara's world back then.)

After my mom got sick the first week of July, spent a week at HCGH, then about a month at Encore for therapy, she was discharged home to us. Oh.my.God. 

Let me preface this all by saying a few things. I love my mother more then anything on this planet. She is my flesh and blood, she birthed me, raised me, and cared for me like any wonderful mother would. She didn't know she would someday end up with one of the most challenging diseases out there. She lived her life and loved her family. She tried to be a good person, she spoke the truth, and she took care of me as best as she could. And knowing that she needed me more then ever, I was able to get through the most difficult 2 weeks of my life. 

The reason it was so hard is because my poor mother with late stages of Alzheimer's needed 24/7 care. Couldn't leave her alone, had to do everything for her or with her. And being a registered nurse you would think this would be easy for me. WRONG. I knew what to do, I knew mostly how to do it, but finding the strength and the energy and time to do it all with 100% was the challenge. Its even more difficult taking care of your own mother; when it's a stranger and you can leave after 12 hours it's a different ball game.

It started off with just me watching her; then Travis had to help because, I had to sleep...so we took turns staying with her downstairs. My 2 sisters didn't do anything to help in the home--Kelly would come by afterwork for a couple hours if that and just sit with her and basically be annoyed that she had to do it. My other sister didn't even come out to visit until I had to tell her I needed help. After all, I got FMLA granted for me to excuse me from work while I took care of her. I was out of work most of August. Without pay after a certain point. MAJOR sacrifice. We also had to cancel our week long vacation to Williamsburg that we set up back in January; we didn't get any money back from that. Meanwhile both of brothers were able to go on their summer vacations mind you...

 I had a huge fight with my dad about this, because he didn't seem to get it that it was exhausting me mentally and physically after 36 hours of doing it, and we needed help from our friends at Visiting Angels. He took his usual stubborn stance of not wanting to pay money for help; he seemed to have this idea in his head that a caretaker would be $50 an hour. Its obviously not, its $21/hour. And the V.A. pays for 10 hours a week free. He seemed to think I would only need a 10 hour break every week...for however many weeks this would go on. Well thats another ball game right there. Long story short--we were able to convince him it wouldn't kill his bank account to get me some help. We were able to set that up; was it worth the horrible fight in which I let him (verbally) have it? No, not at all. I regret saying some of things I said; he said a lot of hurtful shit too. But we survived, got through it, and it should literally be the last fight we'll ever have. There's no reason to yell at each other like that at his age. My brother Mark was extremely helpful and got me to calm down and see it from his point of view.  Thank God for that. 

So meanwhile, my mom is being herself; lots of repetitive questions--usually the same 10 over and over....
"Where are my shoes?"
"Where is my bed?"
"When are we going home?"
"What do we do now?"
"My legs are cold!"
"What are you going to do?"
"How do I turn the TV off/on?"
"Where is Bob?"
"Where's the dog?"
"Where's my address book?"
"This isn't my home!"
"When are we going to get home?"

This would go on the entire time she was awake. These ideas and topics were very worrisome to her, she just couldn't help it. Although sometimes I know she did it just to have something to talk about and get attention for. She can't help it, I know. But, for the past 3-5 years, these questions were generally asked multiple times during any interaction I had with her. So yes, it gets really fucking old hearing it over and over and over and over again. It tries your patience. You can't get anything done when you leave the room because she will sit in her recliner and scream these questions until you answer. A normal human being wouldn't mind answering these questions a few times, but after awhile, your answers aren't good enough because they aren't being remembered due to the obvious short term memory loss. So as a caretaker, it was the biggest challenge of all.

Due to her fall risk and being on Coumadin, we wouldn't let her ambulate on her own, hence the need to watch her 24/7. Travis invested in a really nice video cam so we could keep an eye on her while we left the room and she was alone. Most of the time she was good; she'd attempt to stand up and successfully did it twice without falling, but we'd usually dash into the room and tell her to stop. Also, while she was sleeping we could watch her, I could go upstairs and shower or rest or do stuff in the kitchen and keep an eye on her---it was viewable on a website, so I watched her on my phone and on our laptops. Brilliant idea. We'll just keep the camera for when we have babies. 

The second challenge was the foley catheter she had in since she was at HCGH. (It was the third or fourth one.) Supposedly the Rehab nurses did "voiding trials" and she wouldn't/couldn't pee. So the cath stayed in. Brought her home with it; no one wanted to empty it but me. My sister acted like it was poison and that irritated me because she knew it pissed me off that she didn't even try to empty it and she didn't really care. So at least the first 10 days or so we didn't have to run to the potty all the time, and I could monitor her output. The Flomax must have helped, she'd been put on that at the hospital.

We had home healthcare from Hopkins following her and my dad, so they came to the house frequently; PT, OT, drew her blood for the lab work, SW, etc. It was helpful. Sophia the RN was excellent and thank God for people like her that do that job.  (During all of this, my dad had her as well because he had a Pleurex Cath installed in his right rib area to drain the fluid build up and help his pleural space close up more. So he got a lot of attention at the same time.)  Within a week of her being home my brother convinced my dad that Assisted Living was the ONLY option for my mom, so my job was to find one. I pulled out the books that a case manager at HCGH gave me and started picking AL places with Alz care out and calling them. Most of the time the residential homes are the best options because they are more intimate, better quality, and cheaper. I lucked out by finding Carolyn Caswell at Country Gardens Assisted Living in Highland, MD. She had 2 or 3 beds open; Travis and I went 2 days later to visit. (We visited another one but it clearly wasn't for us.) So I got the paperwork, had Terri, Mike and Kelly visit it a few days later and my dad agreed and signed the contract. In order to get her in, we had to get some stuff filled out by her PCP; I had to get a MOLST form done. Another seriously painful thing to do, picking what options she would have if she went into cardiac arrest, etc. I got through that meeting with Dr. Gibbons without crying, so I'm proud of myself. I cried and sobbed quite a bit during my baby-sitting time; so many emotions and memories and thoughts.

Before she moved in, she had to see the eye doctor since it had been forever; come to find out she has bilateral cataracts. (OH lovely!) The next day I took her foley out and prayed that she would pee on her own. Sophia ordered straight cath kids just in case; I wasn't thrilled about the possibility of cathing her, I did it once as a practice and its as easy; I of course had made it into a big deal that it really wasn't. After a night of diarrhea, she was able to pee in the potty without issue. Halleluyer.  The bedside commode was the best invention ever too, btw.

Sunday August 25, 2014 we packed my mom up and set out for Highland, which is 15 minutes door to door. The saddest part was when we were getting ready to walk out the door and my mom looks at me and says "Where are we going?" Innocent enough question.
It literally knocked the wind out of me to hear this; she had no idea where we were going and why. Knowing that she is so vulnerable and dependent on me/us is incredibly hard. I had to walk out the door and get in the car and let Terri take it from there. The house she lived in for 43 years would no longer be her only home--now she would go to Ms. Carolyn's house and live there. Its so lonely here without her; when I stop to think about it I usually tear up. 

Another difficult aspect of Alzheimer's is seeing your loved one mentally decline and deteriorate back to almost an infant in some cases. Your mom, the one who was your boss, your rock, your advice-giver, your first love, was now gone, even though her body stood before me.  I still have a really hard time remembering what she was like mentally before she got diagnosed. I was young and naive back on 2004; I didn't realize the severity of her illness and what road we had ahead of us. If there is one thing I could do over again is I would have spent more time with her and really tried to live in the moment with her.  Now that I'm 34, getting married (sometime soon I hope), thinking about babies, wanting to do other thing in life---you know, things you would want to discuss with your mom. Get her advice, her opinions, hear what she went through, share the excitement with her, etc. That is one thing I will never get to experience. I'm sad for this, and mad that this fucking horrid disease has done this to us.  My siblings all got to experience this stuff; the last really great memories I have of her and I being together was when we painted my purple bedroom and decorated it in the summer of 2000. I remember when she would take great pride in ironing my nursing uniforms (those hideous white tops!) and all of the awesome things she took the time to pick out and buy me from QVC. I still have some of them; she was trying to prepare me for the day when I would move out on my own. Thats what mothers do, they help their kids with that...they take pride in guiding their kids through those phases in young adulthood. For that I will be forever grateful I have a few memories, its better then nothing at all. I just wish she was still "here" to help me right now. I know she would really enjoy Travis, and I know she would really enjoy hearing about where I work and what I do. I just wish I could pick up the phone and call her in the evening and say "look at the Cook's Essentials on QVC right now! I'm going to order one of those..." or "look at that pretty Diamonique necklace!"  I would love to cook with her, back with her. Pick out a wedding dress, pick out baby names. Tell her about my patients from work; tell her about the books I read; anything. Anything besides the answers to "Where are my shoes?" So to me the cruelest part of Alz is the tease of having them physically with you, but almost a total shell of the worst possible form of their former self.  Even  from the start of the diagnosis, you have that fear and in the back of your head that something bad is going to happen, you just don't know when and how. And thats sort of how this disease has gone--didn't expect earlier this year that this summer would be so rough for her. I did the whole "I should have done this...should have done that...should have known" game; I have a lot of guilt for not helping her more then I did. I had a lot of anger towards my siblings for not caring or not doing as much of the grunt work as I was doing. Its easy to come up for 2 hours and take her to dinner; try bathing her, putting her to bed, taking her to an appointment, helping her just get on the bus to go to the Senior Center. Giving her medications to her, picking out her food, cutting it up, hoping she will eat it, etc. Those are the things I did a lot of. Cleaning her house, that she once cleaned and took care of. Keeping her safe and out of trouble, keeping her occupied. Helping her stay calm and happy.  The type of stuff that is difficult to do on a daily basis; I just needed some help with that. Support. Moral support, anything. I felt alone a lot of times. Like when my sister would have the task of bathing her on a Sunday because Monday she would go out with her Visiting Angel's companion Louise, and then Winter Growth on Tuesday's, etc. and she would just not do it, not call me, not tell me, and I'd find out at the last minute before I was driving to work that it didn't get done. That was the most frustrating thing ever, and having it repeatedly happen and no one correcting it, and then getting pissed at me...that was the last straw for me. Fortunately this is all in the past. I don't have to do a lot of that stuff with them anymore; working with 2 disorganized and irresponsible people is hard for me. If I know something has to be done and I can't do it, I make a plan b. I don't just let it go and pretend it's not happening. So that being a thing of the past I can at least put that energy into myself once again.

I'm not saying that my sister didn't help and didn't try to do the best she could do; I really don't know if she did the best she could, but at least she was there and could help lighten the load at times. Some people have no one. I think people that have a hard time taking care of themselves that are thrown into something like being a caretaker for a loved one is a lot harder then for someone like me who is a nurse, who is relatively organized, and relatively able to plan a week ahead of time. One thing I would do over again is get Visiting Angels in sooner to help. Regardless of what my dad thought, we needed it a few years ago. Now I know that my brother is the key to getting stuff like that accomplished. But that is also in the past.

So from hear on out, it's the next phase. Is it the last phase? I don't know. Is there more then one phase ahead of us? I don't know. But one thing I can do now is try to reclaim some of my free time to help myself so that I don't end up with early onset dementia/Alz.

That and getting married, buying a house, having babies, changing careers, keeping my dad alive, etc. Those are the things on my plate now that I'm free from caretaker daughter.

Since I am planning to have bariatric surgery again early next year, I have to really focus on that. Which means following the program, exercising, etc etc.  If I can't get my weight down and start becoming a healthier person, I won't be able to get pregnant and have babies and carry on in my life. I am very interested in disease prevention--not curing--all of the horrible stuff that happens to us as we age and if we are overweight. I don't even want to go down the high blood pressure road; the type 2 diabetes world; the arthritis road, and especially the dementia road.

So here's to the Next Phase in life, may it be better than the last and make progress towards my goals.