Is it only the middle of the week? How odd. I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in a few days. I often say how tired I am. It is true. I’m tired of everything. Thankfully, it is accepted and I’ve not been chastised for my thoughts.
I’m also done with fairy tales. Even printed ones are starting to pall. I’ve had a chance to be a princess or Lady a few times. It is heady and illogical. Like putting pearls on a swine (I have a college friend who has two pet pigs, I know she buys them bling!!). I need to remember my place. I forget when I’m brought up, though, and it is difficult to step back down. I become resentful and angry at myself for wanting more than I’m allowed or might deserve. I paint with a vibrant brush all that I see in my world, it muddies when I put those strokes to my own life, though. I need to be content with what I have, not yearn for fantasy and fiction, to enjoy the moments I get when they arrive. (I tell myself this often, I need to keep saying it!) I have been growing up a lot. I hate it. Growth hurts. I much prefer the small pot I lived in with the crowded roots. I wanted to burst out and did and now I don’t belong anywhere. I need to stop chasing rainbows. If one crosses my path, I can play with it, but they are fleeting ribbons, hard to hold onto. The prisms of color are fragmented when I try. Beautiful and broken.
So, in a more interesting strain, Monday was our trip to the big city. Of course, I had told mom we needed to leave at 8 am. At 745, she told me she needed to have her fitting changed and she was hurting so it would be best if I did it. I managed, but we were close to late. I had to drive carefully because of the roads. We even slid on an icy bit and mum was a bit put out with me. I don’t know how to drive on ice or in snowy conditions. She may be right, but these last years are the only time I’ve ever been allowed to. No one has ever taught me how to handle obscure road conditions. (I wonder if I can ask our neighbor, Sir Wrench, to help me? He is pretty unflappable and has a large truck to pull me from mishaps! Naw, winter is close to over. I think….)
Once at the office, Mum was the focal point of discussion with a team of doctors. All male. I had no idea you could crowd that much professional testosterone into a small examination room. I think there were 4, plus the male assistant recording the discussion. (I believe he finally choose one conversation to follow!) There was Greg, who graduated from High School in 1983 (odd how that sort of thing brings a connection, even when the people are from different places in the United States!), Dr. Luke, the newest doctor at the clinic (who was very nice), and another doctor who was, I think, observing, The most amazing thing, they listened to me, treated me as a human being and not just the person shuttling that older nice lady around, and gave me a chance to express my own concerns. After discussion, they raised the dosage in both her pain pump bolus and the basal amount. I just need to watch her for being too sedated.
We left and mum refused a wheelchair transport again. She insisted she was doing great. So, I let her be. At the airport, mum wanted something to eat. Her glucose had been around 200 and she’d had a cookie, but she said she needed to eat something. (Mine was around 102, I had a Glucerna, and knew I didn’t need anything.) I got her a pizza at a place in the airport. It was very good, I had to have a piece! I had taken my insulin, so knew I’d be ok. Mum was too embarrassed to take hers at the airport or even at the hospital where we were waiting for our very nice taxi driver who is always available. She finally took it around 430, when we got back to the house and she had gotten on her jammies. She was upset because it was in the higher 400’s.
Before we headed home, I needed to drop off a new script for pain pills. I was so tired while waiting that I leaned on a supporting column at the pharmacy and almost fell to sleep! (each time I relaxed, I’d almost drop the things I was holding and that woke me)
One of the interesting things I did when I got home was to call the gal who teaches people how to use the pain pumps. I remembered in the mortuary information that before cremation pacemakers need removed. I wondered what to do with this thing. My question, ‘What do we need to do with the pain pump when mom dies?’ (it wasn’t quite that bald, I might have made the query longer) The lady replied, ‘Your mom’s not going to die!’ (I wondered if she knew mum’s grandkids also believe Nana is immortal and what clued her in!) Anyway, she did say it would need removed and discarded. I could send back the remote and antennae if I wanted or keep them. (MORE medical clutter!!!!!!!!!) On Tuesday afternoon, I called the mortuary. I could hear the man I spoke with blink when I asked my questions. (he had no idea what it was!) He then said they’d take care of it. I just need to make a strong notation on the forms that there is something medical inside mom and about where it might be.
Tuesday also brought a few more things to light. My not brand name syringes are a LOT longer than the ones I have been using. (photo is blurry, so not sure you can see with the shadow how much longer one is than the other.) I need to see if the pharmacy can write down the information from the bag of the ones I ran out of and ask the doctor if I can get a script for those next time. I have to tell you, I uncapped that thing and my tummy cringed!!! I’m not quite sure I have that much subcutaneous tissue. Even the pharmacist was disturbed by the length. We got more snow and as much as I rejoice, it may curtail some of my plans. Mum suggested it was a little bit of snow. It hasn’t stopped yet. Remember that line from the old Winnie the Pooh movie about the ‘gentle spring zephyr’ that was really ‘a very blustery day’? Yup. That is today. I reckon this month is coming in like a lovely snow leopard! I was going to go to town tomorrow but I may, once again, not get to elf thoroughly because of a couple other things that I really want to do.
My little sister, her daughter, and her spouse are very sick with fevers. She got sent home from work today. Mum doesn’t want to see them, she doesn’t want to be sick. I laughed. She went shopping today and am sure everyone was healthy (eye roll). She got some mini croissants again. I asked her why? I had thought she was going to not eat those anymore because of the fat content. She said it was probably not the croissants that were the problem. In the car, she was in a lot of pain (in spite of the new dosage). I asked if she wanted one of the pain pills I’d just picked up. She said yes and then asked for two. I asked her if she wanted me to get her a shake to wash it down and she said no, those make her glucose run too high. She followed that by telling me she purchased vanilla ice cream. (She had some after her dinner of a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup and a chicken salad croissant. Her glucose was 214, she was pleased it was so good.) She also purchased Girl Scout mint cookie cereal and I stopped looking after that!
I haven’t spoken to The Craftsman since Friday. He’s sent texts. I’d call but, I’m not going to do anymore chasing. If anyone wants me, they know where to find me. I will send the guys another box tomorrow. Mum is getting rid of never opened movies and Little Bear said he’d not seen The Munsters. (Gotta educate this kid!) I bought a book to pop in the box, too. Earlier, I got a text from my eldest. It looks as if he is going to adopt. Another cat might be joining his family soon. Amber. (my middle name!)
OH! The young neighbors from across the lake just came to plow the drive since the snow stopped. I’m so thankful for those caring people.