One Day, Leads To Another...

The days now seem to flow together. Every day Dad takes walks. Every day Dad gets lost. Several neighbors now know where he belongs and have aided in returning him home. Our local police department now has his description and photo on the computers in each squad car, a program called "Take me Home" and they have encouraged me to call as soon as we find him missing.

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That was written a few days ago. I intended to finish it at some point but my time is no longer my own. Not even a little bit. I think I'll do an ADD bullet point blog.

• Sleep deprivation
• Dad has had 2 significant falls.
  
• One in front of someone else's house while he was lost, one in front of ours today.
• He's "okay."
• D must be so happy to be out from under the radar.
• Once Dad goes home, I am never cooking again. When I shared this with StW, he said, "that's what I'm afraid of."
• Dad seemed worse the first week he was here.
• He's been staying home the last few days after promising me.
  
• We've taken walks together every day.
• Today I worked on the back deck, cleaning and getting ready for planting, cookouts and summer.
• I brought the outdoor rockers over from J's deck so Dad could sit there -safely- and read the paper, enjoy the sun and not be distracted by the road to somewhere.
• Yesterday we bought 2 chairs at the Lazyboy store so he'd be able to get out of a chair more easily because we noticed it's difficult for him to get off the sofa. He was along and tried them out. He continues to sit on the sofa.
• He loves to eat. All. The. Time. Night. And. Day.
  
• He won't take any meds.
• He scratches until he bleeds. Until there are holes. Deep holes on his arms -mostly.
  
• We have had 4 plugged toilets, water running into the hall.
• There's also been bowel incontinence.
• Today he told me I'm a good mother.
• I decided not to question that.
• Most days he asks me numerous times, "how's my daughter doing?"
• You cannot leave the house without him saying, "be safe."
  
• He is excessively thankful. He says "thank you" for the most minute thing, and too often during meals, drinks and help. Every single thing has been "delicious." I think not.
  
• Today I noticed that some details of even the old stories have changed. It's the first I've noticed long term memory issues.
• He doesn't know how long he's been here, nor how long he'll be here, or even why he's here, but he does ask about my Mother now.
• He leaves the bathroom door open.
  
• There has been nudity in the house.
• Most household members don't deal well with that.
• He's a klepto everywhere we go.
• He eats without his teeth in.
• He puts food he can't eat on top of the dry cat food. They won't eat it either.
  
• He's exchanged the cats' water with milk.
• He sleeps with Floyd, who he has renamed Cassandra Obama, which he repeats 3 thousand times a day and calls all three cats.
• He turns off lights left on so he can see at night. Instead, he turns on the really bright ones and even sleeps with the overhead light on.
  
• As long as someone is with him while he's awake, he's okay.
• We've been watching the HBO special on Alzheimer's, yesterday he watched with us. I wish I could read his mind.
• He's too young for Alzheimer's.
• I feel so sad. I am tired of care-taking, which then makes me feel guilty. Yet it isn't without its rewards -at least still at this point.
  
• We have one more week with him here.
  
• Jay has already weighed in, "your care-taking days are over. He cannot stay with you."
• My boss uses almost the same words.
  
• I know this is true. It's only been 2 weeks and it's taken a toll. But how can my Mom do this when I can barely manage?
• Plus they have a different relationship, more history, baggage. They fight.
  
• It's sad. Very sad.
  
• I'm still undecided.
  

And To Think It Will Get Worse

So after the excitement of the day yesterday, I sat at the computer, guarding the front door, and worked on the appeal letter for D's disability. It would have taken a long time anyway, but with frequent interruptions it was nigh impossible. It's still saved in Drafts.

We decided to drive over to Costco with Dad and do a quick run through to get a few things we needed. Not that it was uneventful, but it was tolerable. Back home we had a quick dinner, then Dad actually went to bed and StW and I watched The Bucket List on TV. Someday I suppose I'll watch the Grey's season finale.

Towards the end of the movie Dad was back up and roaming, unable to articulate what keeps him moving. I made him a fruit and cheese plate and bid him goodnight, promising to get his newspaper and make him pancakes in the morning if he stayed home.

I went to bed in StW's bed, he has now moved into the library, winning Musical Beds. He can't get used to the CPAP, I can't get used to his snoring. He can't get used to sleeping in a meat locker, I can't get used to him complaining about the cold. So there you have it.

At 5 AM this morning Dad was still sleeping in his bed, overhead light on. I turning it off and tiptoed back to my own bed for a couple more hours of sleep.

By the time I got up, he was already gone. I made coffee and waited awhile, then drove up to Starbucks hoping to find him there. It was the first of 5 trips to Starbucks and many miles of neighborhood roads covered once again. By 11 AM I called the police. I'm sure they're not happy with us, unable to keep an old demented slow-walking man in the house. I kept driving while StW stayed home waiting for the Officer who would take today's report. 10 minutes later, my phone rang and it was Dispatch. There was a man fitting Dad's description at a residence (on our street) would I go see if it's Dad. I drove up and he was in the driveway talking to the woman who lives there. I thanked her profusely and took Dad home. He was dehydrated and hungry and had apparently fallen as there's an egg sized ecchymotic area on the back of his bald little head. He said he sat on her stoop a little while and was so tired he laid down to sleep. At some point he fell but he doesn't recall the details. Eventually he woke up and rang the doorbell. She called the police and told them about the confused gentleman at her house. There you have it.

We got home and I made him coffee and breakfast, then started tonight's pot roast (sauerbraten) and a pot full of sausage and peppers which they ended up having for lunch. I've become a cookin' fool. When I'm done typing I am going to throw together a fresh fruit salad for after dinner. W is coming over. Dad wants to see him and has forgotten that he saw him last Sunday and on Friday.

I'm going to close for now so that I can work on the appeal letter again before he wakes up from his nap.

Remember when the kids were little and you didn't know what to do with them so that you could take a shower?
I don't remember what I did with them and am in need of a shower.

One Week Down

Dad arrived a week ago today. I had a feeling I should have been documenting all along, but there are only 24 hours in a day, most of which I have now become acquainted with. (You'll cut me slack on my grammar.)

Timing gone awry, this is the week of Spring Clean-up in our neighborhood. That means the residents put a years' -or a lifetimes'- worth of crap out on the street and on the assigned day it will be picked up. Dad is a hoarder from WAY back.

And now he's a wanderer too. He wanders day and night, taking only short naps in between. We live on the last/first road between 2 towns. The police in both towns now have him "in the system." It's unbelievable how much difference a year makes.

Last year at around this time, he was happier. He would sing and talk constantly. Ask about Mom everyday, want to call her. This year he's much quieter. There's been no singing. He rarely asks about Mom or home. He talks to us and knows us but confuses some of the family names. While the forgetfulness is quite noticeable due to the repeats, there have only been 4 times so far where he actually answered a question inappropriately, not just wrongly due to memory, but wrongly as in off topic completely.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

This morning, as every morning, Dad was missing by the time I got up. I dressed and washed up then drove to Starbucks (one mile away) where he has gone for coffee and to "read the paper" each day. Once he found out how to get there, and back, it was my first stop each day -to pay for whatever he ordered and bring him home. This morning he never made it to Starbucks, distracted by all the "treasures" on the side of the road. I drove miles around a few blocks, over and over until I saw him. He was weighed down carrying a 5 gallon paint bucket filled with trash in one hand, a plastic bag filled with cassette tapes and broken toys in another. Somehow he also managed to hold 2 picture frames with glass in them. Around his neck was a bag with a box supposedly holding an electric drill. I finally found him just as he was walking up someone's driveway and a car was pulling in behind him. Someone must have asked if he was lost. He was asking for 1378 (our house number is 1420) and was on the wrong street. He saw me walking up and said, "that's my daughter."
I walked him to the car and tried to take his treasures away. No amount of convincing it was trash was effective so I opened the trunk and put the treasures inside and drove Dad home. I washed him up, changed his clothes as StW made him breakfast. He's taking one of his naps now and I emptied my trunk back out onto our own pile on the street.

Friday, May 15, 2009

I drove to Starbucks at 7 AM, paid for Dad's coffee and croissant and drove him home. StW made him breakfast as I went off to work. By 9 AM I was back home and asked if they'd like to take a ride "in the country" as I'd promised my son I would meet him at his rental house for the eviction of his tenants. Even though the Sheriff had to be there to, er, keep the peace, I wanted to make sure I took the stray bullet and kept my wheelchair bound son safe, preferably inside his car. It was all uneventful and Dad got to get out of the house legitimately.

We went grocery shopping then I dropped them off at home and went back to the office. By the time I got home, Dad was missing again. I drove to Starbucks and he wasn't there. Eventually I called the police. He was found walking back home (5 PM) and told the Officer he hadn't tell anyone he'd left the house because "they were all sleeping." A complete police report was filled out, suggestions were given for keeping him in the house and apparently an officer with their "Take Me Home" program would be contacting us. This program allows police officer to take Alzheimer's patients -or even Autistic kids- home if found wandering the streets.

We had dinner, StW made chicken with mini potatoes, garlic and mushrooms with asparagus. Dad had ice cream for dessert. Terrible nurse that I am, I decided maybe some alcohol would mellow him out enabling him to sleep. He had asked for cherry schnapps. We found none but there was a Cherry Stoli so we purchased a bottle. I poured Dad a nightcap and went to bed. StW and Dad sat up awhile watching TV and dad finally went to bed at which time StW also went. By Saturday morning, the bottle was empty (!) and Dad was gone.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

It's not the it was an uneventful day, but no one went missing without being found. Dinner was Pot Luck night as I'd been cooking full meals every evening and the fridge begged to be emptied, so everyone had the leftovers of their choice. Dad chose the spaghetti as he hasn't met a pasta he didn't like.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

I knew days ago that I would need to cancel MHW for the duration of Dad's stay. After leaving him with StW all day while I was at work, I couldn't also go to therapy and then Group after work. I knew that SOMEHOW I was going to get things under control in order to watch 3 hours of LOST on Wednesday night. We had the usual Starbucks walk in the morning and again in the afternoon, but once we got home I ran bath water into the tub and decided to put my nurse hat on and bathe my father. My concern was 2-fold -re injuring my back if he needed help getting out of the tub (which was quite a chore but we managed without injury) and his modesty. (No worries, it is nonexistent.)

Afterwards, I finished making dinner -fish, hot German potato salad, green beans and salad- cleaned up and settled in for some serious TV watching. Dad wandered and snacked, but stayed in the house.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009 (TBC)
Monday, May 11, 2009 (TBC)

Mother's Day, Sunday, May 10, 2009

After finding Dad at Starbucks the first time, we commenced with the joviality that spells Mother's Day for me. :snort:
Most years I cook on Mother's Day. I assumed this is just what you do when you have sons. This year was no different. J had to work so he wasn't even here. W came for dinner but didn't stay much longer than that because he needed to finish his final project for school. D declined to have dinner with us because he and W are on the outs and not speaking. So dinner of Hecky's ribs (yum) and the sides cooked by STW was delicious and eaten by just 4 of us. By the time W had been gone an hour, Dad asked if he was going to be seeing him this visit. He also can't tell J and D apart so generally avoids names and says, "how's the kid doing?"

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Dad arrived in the late afternoon, after a 2 hour plane delay. He looked none the worse for wear and knew me immediately when he saw me at the gate. We drove home, and as we pulled into the driveway he said, "so I go out the driveway and left to get the newspaper."
"No," I corrected, "out the driveway and make a right for a mile long walk to the gas station, but don't go, I'll get the paper for you."
I unpacked his clothes and things in his room, made spaghetti and sides for dinner and just hung out chatting awhile before calling it a night.
By morning, Dad was gone. His first trip. I assumed he went to the gas station for the newspaper.

Apologetic Servant

Place holder/reminder

Reclaiming My Birthday

Someday -maybe in response to this note- I'll have to ask my brothers what their birthday memories are. (No, not the ones about their only sister neglecting to send cards. The other ones.)

I've decided that THIS year I am going to reclaim my birthdate.

Oh sure there were presents. (I'm assuming here, because none come immediately to mind) and there was certainly ALWAYS a mega caloric, mile high torte, made by Mom. Everyone was allowed to request their personal favorite on their birthday. (I do miss that part though my arse does not.)

My birthday falls on a wonderful day too -the first day of Spring. I've always thought that was worth celebrating if nothing else.

However, it was also my misfortune to have been born on March 20th. It is the anniversary of my maternal grandfather's death. He was killed during WWII when my mother was 5; she has only a few memories of him. He came home for 2 weeks before being sent to the Russian front. Apparently not many made it home from there. They said their goodbyes at the train. I know I haven't heard the details of that day for the last time yet.

But there's more. I share my birthday with my paternal grandfather too. He who left my grandmother with 5 small starving children in war torn Dresden. There's a bit of animosity towards him, even now after his death. I never met him.

So my childhood birthday memories are of cake and my mother's tears, the cause of which I wasn't privvy to until well into adulthood.

33 was a good birthday as I wondered if I would share it with D, ("last but not least") who chose his own birthday and was born 2 days later. 40 was a good birthday, filled with hope for a wonderful year. It became a terrible year. The worst ever. The year of W's accident. 50 was a good birthday. StW and my boss hosted a birthday dinner attended by the "boys" and a few friends. Again, the year was tough though -in fact it's been a bit tough the last 2 or 10 years.

But 52 is coming up. (52!) It's striking me the way that zero birthdays strike some others. (I'm a late bloomer.) There will be no more birthday tears. Birthdays belong to the living, and in our family, on March 20th, I intend that to be me.

Happy Spring!

Cut and pasted from facebook....maybe someday I'll fill in some details here.

A More Positive Outlook

It was an interesting week here at the homestead. A mix of good stuff and challenges, but today I will focus on the good stuff....for a change.

StW decided we would afford a new housekeeper, as I am too decrepit (bending and lifting put me horizontal for days, God forbid weeks) and he is not inclined. Because the house is huge and a GOOD cleaning well overdue, the new housekeeper decided to begin with Spring Cleaning. (BTW, StW found her in the local paper, his interest piqued by "German housekeepers.") After a few conversations on the phone and an assessment visit to the house (I wasn't here) she scheduled this cleaning for yesterday and arrived with 5 other women. I have never seen such cleaning going on. Most remarkably changed is StW's basement office, which I NEVER cleaned, nor apparently did he. It's UNBELIEVABLY awesomely spotless! (I gave consent for them to throw out EVERYTHING at their discretion, and made StW (the hoarder) promise not to open trash bags. They filled industrial sized trash bags....many of them. They refiled all his blueprints and paperwork and, honestly, I suspect most of the crap from his desks and floors are in those bags but whatever. =)

The kitchen was oohed and aahed over and then cleaned from the open rafters down to the slate floors. The pot rack above the cooktop has bugged me for quite awhile (grease covered with dust) but I am so afraid of falling that I wouldn't climb up there. All the wood floors were Murphy's Oiled on hands and knees which is how I was also taught was the only way to get floors really clean, but thinking of me doing that anymore is laughable. They do windows too. The only thing they don't do it laundry, which I prefer to do myself anyway.

Sitting here looking around at my once again spotless home makes me VERY happy, and it seems that my happiness makes StW happy. Funny the things that can make one happy, isn't it?

D had a better week this week, with only a few set backs. The SSI assessment did not go well (depending on one's POV) but that's another story for another day. Three day weekends are awesome, regardless the odious things one must do to get one.

The biggest surprise is that StW intends to go to Europe this summer. He will not go without me because "it's not fun without you." I have no idea where his money tree is, and he refuses to tell me. I told him I could use some of his stash for bills, he said, "you find the cash for D's legal bills as you chose to accept that responsibility. I'll find the cash for vacation." He seems to have this urgency about travel, especially to architecturally significant places because he's already lived 10 more years than he ever thought he would. (I assured him only the good die young.)

Anyway, both our 401K's are in the crapper. I didn't have much to start with so am not feeling the loss as much as he is and to think about taking any out before it might right itself is unbelievable to me but maybe he won't do that. Knock wood, he has been very busy with work this year, and last, so maybe he's been planning ahead. The push that makes it a sure thing is that Bossfroc is behind him and told me to "JUST GO, you really need to get away and have some fun, some down time, some no D time, some couple time. You deserve it, your husband deserves it, take 2 weeks and go."

So, I thought Prague would be next on his Bucket list, but as it turns out it isn't, so first he explored the British Isles, but then he moved on to Barcelona and Provence. With all the Gaudi architecture in Barcelona I understood right away. Check out Sagrada Familia on wikipedia. Begun in the late 1800's, completion not due until 2026. Generations of builders, craftsmen, engineers and architects. I can't wait. Then a train trip to Provence, along the Mediterranean. My only concern being the heat in that part of the world -in July. So, that's what we're looking at for now, but as planning of our last big European adventure changed a few times until it was perfect, this one will evolve a bit too. Especially if I choose to provide input. I'm more inclined towards northern France, Normandy and Mont St Michel, but we'll see. It's an awfully far distance from Barcelona.


Group has been awesome with a new member who is both divisive for some group members but somehow his presence has allowed me to find my voice. My angry voice, always hidden. The next weeks should be very interesting.

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The rain is making a huge racket on the skylights and there is now thunder adding to the atmosphere. The fireplace does stink of wet soot now though, so having vented and kept to my goal of blogging more often, I am going to hit the shower, then throw in some laundry and then veg out with coffee and Kindle2. I am reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Not a single thing to even attempt to clean this weekend!

This morning life is good and I deserve it. (That was hard to say, harder to feel, but I'm working on it.) It is true though. I don't claim to have the life of Job, but there have certainly been, and continue to be, MANY trials and tribulations and I deserve some good stuff too.

Marriage Takes Biggest Hit

D doesn't care. D doesn't work. D sleeps all day. I could go on and on, but this one isn't about him.

This one (will be) about the toll all this is taking on my marriage. StW hasn't ever had kids of his own. Maybe it isn't fair starting out with kids like mine. Life's not fair.

This isn't the first time we've *debated* over the kid, but I notice the sound is changing. StW would like to retire in the not too distant future. Retirement, in the past, didn't take into account what the economy has done to his savings, nor a problem man-child with mounting legal bills, huge medical bills, no job, no driver's license, lots of attitude.

I'm going to try for some more sleep before work in the morning. I'm glad it's MHW though.

G'night.

Because You Can't Make This Stuff Up

I was going to blog about hell week, and maybe I still will, at least the highlights of three court dates, after all, that must surely be a record. For mothers, not lawyers.

But for now I'll just share a bit of Friday's adventure.

After 2 1/2 hours in Court, waiting for his turn, J's year old case was finally dismissed as he'd completed all the requirements. We got to watch DOZENS of cases. O M G ! Anyway, I'm not sure where he learned this, but J knows how to dress well, and looked better than some of the attorneys -the only other well dressed people in the Courtroom.

I digress, as usual, because that had nothing to do with this tale.

FINALLY it was over. We walked through the Courthouse halls towards Security, on our way back to the parking garage. Just as we neared the Security check point, someone looking remarkably like D was just passing through. He looked like he does most every day, complete with eye makeup. Certainly not his Court clothes from Tuesday. With him, having her purse rifled through by a guard, was someone who looked exactly like his on again, off again GF. We all met eyes at the same time.

"Hey."

"Hi. What are you guys doing here?"

"We're here to get a marriage license."

"Really. Where are you going to live?"

"Well, we're not getting married yet. Just getting the license."

"Oh. Okay."

By then GF joined us.

"Hi. Whatcha guys doing here?

"We're picking something up for my Dad. He's a lawyer."

"Hm. So which one of you is lying?"

GF, as she's dragging him away whispers, "what did you tell her?!"

J was waiting outside, uninterested either way. He's done. D has some Courthouse visits left to look forward to.

G'night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GF was truthful. Son really knows how to yank my chain. It just didn't happen to work this time.

Hoping To Blog About FUN Stuff Again Someday

Court today was really not about US so much as about the hoochie mama who totaled my car last September. This is the third court appearance, 2 of which she attended, none of which she showed up for on time. I would not recognize this woman as the woman who caused the accident that night on a bet.

Today she wore her uncombed hair pulled back in a pony tail and had sneakers on and no make-up. That night she was made up to party and looked 10 years younger. If looks could kill we'd all be dead.

Anyway, the case is really (mostly) between the 2 insurance companies, but I did want to ensure (with our presence) that she would not get off COMPLETELY scott free. She was given 3 months Supervision and a fine. The rest now really is just about closing out the aggravation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D goes to the local drug, alcohol, eating disorder, and various other psych issues, Unit at the Hospital this afternoon, for an "Assessment," the results of which -if treatment is recommended- he will -supposedly abide by. We'll see. That appointment will be followed by D's psychiatry appointment to check in regarding last week's med adjustment.

Then of course it's MHW, lest you think anyone is completely sane around here.


UPDATE:

I went to both my appointments. D went to his Shrink appointment but refused to go to the Assessment.

G'night.

A Month In Summary

Well it's been a month since I decided to go back to blogging. What a month it's been. The BEST excuse for not blogging is that I've been playing on Facebook. The MEDIOCRE excuse is that much of the time spent playing on FB has been semi successful in calming my frazzled nerves. The honest (BAD) excuse are the events of just one short month. Had I written about them as they were occurring, I might have retained them all, and the crazed emotions they wrought. Brought?

Regardless, this week (and one day next week) all Stressors come together for one big Phuckfest. Last night was a meeting with the Condo Board. D has already moved back home after being evicted by us (dropping out of College) and by the building (repeated REPEATED repeated noise violations.) That meeting was really bogus -all about how much $$$ they would fine us. Of course I could say how much they would fine D, but D doesn't have a job, nor realistic prospects in sight. Anyway, they're still tallying, having rejected our plea for mercy, leniency, or imprisonment of the mother due to extenuating circumstances, but as of right now we're up to $600.00. I'm sure there's a method to their mathness.

Today, after debating, fighting and angsting for way too long over hiring an attorney vs using a public defender ("we" hired an attorney -of course all legal fees will *someday* be paid by D) is the first of what will no doubt be several Court dates. D and a friend were arrested for having marijuana in the car when pulled over for something stupid (no light over license plate.) Disclosure (to his mother) came lumped in with his license having been suspended (one too many speeding tickets) the fact that he will probably lose it entirely until he's 21 due to another ticket while the suspension was in process, and God only knows what punishment will be meted out because while under bond for the above mentioned arrest, he drove a car (with the officially suspended license) because his buddy was too drunk to drive back from a party at a Frat house in bumphuck Illinois somewhere and D doesn't drink. (The police even tested him on the road and would have let him go except for that little matter of no license.)

His attorney has his work cut out for him and I'm sure the price went up when he heard about the ticket. "Our" goal at this point is to keep D out of jail and get him into treatment. We'll see how that goes.

Toward that goal we move on to tomorrow. In the morning I will be going to Court with J and C over the car accident that left MY car totalled when they were rear ended. By afternoon we move on to the hospital's drug and alcohol unit for an assessment of D. I think this will be the 3rd or 4th time. That appointment will be followed by D's Psychiatry appointment (med check) and my own weekly therapy appointment. That evening, because surely I'll have energy left, is my weekly Group meeting. And so ends Wednesday.

Thursday, ha, I think there might be nothing going on other than the usual mayhem. It's a full work day for me. (I've taken today and tomorrow off, having run out of hours in the day.) I might have neglected to mention all this goes on while I'm pretty sleep deprived (depraved?) due to the hours D keeps. He seems to be up almost all night, then falls asleep near dawn, getting his rest while I'm at work.

Friday, because I'm such a good mom (or one masochistic mofo) I am accompanying J to Court for what will hopefully be Closure to a year long case involving many meetings, classes, supervision and follow-up.

Let's see now, March 23rd will be the driving with a suspended license Court date -in a County I've never even heard of (but am hoping Lawyer has) and next week, on March 6, Friday, "we" get to deal with the Gov'ment itself as D has an appointment with a Psychologist and an Adjudicator to assess whether he's disabled enough to be Disabled. (I could go on and on about that one, but really, is it necessary?)

So, that's a summary of my month. Of course I've left out the parental issues, and they seem to be cropping up more frequently, work, and, gee, have you noticed I haven't mentioned W? (Thank God for anything I've forgotten.)


UPDATE:
D just left for Court with his partner in crime, (so they can smoke in the car on the way there) whose tie I had to tie. Doesn't he have a mother? Maybe they ought use some of their criminal tendencies to learn tie tying or cooking or something.

UPDATED UPDATE:
"Drug School." Completion closes his (this) case. In celebration, and preparation for tomorrow's mountain, I am going to go watch last night's 24.

G'night.

Warmth and Drama

It was a wonderful, all too short weekend at my parents. I would never have been able to say that even a year ago. Now here we are, Dad with Alzheimer's and Mom just the garden variety nuts, yet for 4 days StW and I were enveloped in family. FAMILY. My brother and SIL came over twice, my nephew -my Godson- came once. My Dad still knew us. There were 2 new puppies -one to each family- to provide additional entertainment. Adrienne and Lucy came to visit. I even went out for coffee with Hex. Family and food and history, stories and memories and commiserating.

I think it surprised all of us. Mom has called since then just to thank us yet again for coming. To tell me the house feels empty now without me. Oh, and she did some sewing for me! I'm going to bring her all my favorite rags each visit now. No sense having a Bernina and need to be needed for no reason.


I wanted to blog it all while there but couldn't use my computer because they no longer have wireless. I thought I'd at least get it written once I got home on Sunday, while still basking in the glow -new to me- of family love and acceptance.

Instead, it was a horrific homecoming. (Not as bad as the plane that landed in the Hudson, while ours was merely diverted to Hartford, but everything's relative.) W picked us up at the airport and drove us home. D was here and the ugliest battle yet was waged, mostly in our driveway. There have been only nasty middle-of-the-night text messages from him since. There has been lots of angsting and gallons of tears ever since. Then today. Today I did what I never thought I could do, would do.

Tough Love, Baby. Maybe it will save his life someday. In the meantime, I doubt he hates me any more than he already did.

This seems an okay beginning, no? I hope to continue. Maybe I'll start the next entry with Hex's words of wisdom.

Sadness

I've found that for the most part, when people ask, "how are you?" they really just want a, "fine, thank you and you?"

The exception is when it's someone who really cares about you. Not only do they know your "I'm okay, thanks" is bullshit, they get hurt and/or pissed when you answer that way. They feel blown off, lied to.

Still, I find myself doing it almost every day. Today I was called on my answer. So I added, "well, I'm taking enough meds to be okay, and wouldn't be okay without them." Apparently that wasn't a good answer either, as Bossfroc stepped out of her office into mine for a more intimate chat.

"I know it's been a terrible time for you. It will get better."

"Yeah, I know. When?"

"When you've set limits you can live with or when there's a crisis."

Yup. I already knew those answers.

"I miss the twinkle in your eyes," she said. Oh good something to feel guilty about. But yes, there hasn't been much smiling, let alone laughing going on.

Depression and anxiety. Therapy and meds. The good thing is they do leave me thankfully flat or I wouldn't be able to deal with the elephant in the room. The bad thing is they leave me flat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This afternoon D came up from the city and went to a doctor's appointment. By himself. On time. My only input was responding to his text asking what time the appointment was.
Baby steps are still steps, right?

A Restart

Somehow, at some time in the not too awfully distant past, I became a pessimist. A full fledged, glass is half empty card carrier. I wasn't always this way and I don't like that I am now. I try to fight it, discussing it in therapy and with myself. I'm sure the similarity to Mom -who I'm going to visit on Thursday- is at the root of -oh hell, I need to stop blaming Mom for everything.

Anyway, I need a new place to brainstorm. A new brain to storm with.

I read my April '08 entry to catch me up to date here. It's amazing how much is the same, how much is different. Minor things are different. Who cares where I'm sleeping, what I'm reading. The major things are worse.

D. Somehow he managed to graduate high school. With LOTS of help. No child left behind. With the help -enabling- of almost his entire family and a few teachers and therapists he applied to and was accepted at Flashpoint Academy. Their advertising blitz encompassed local radio, TV, print ads, as well as the internet, even Facebook carries their ads. We went on a Tour. D had hope for education after high school. He was "led to believe" academics were in his past and Recording Arts was his future.

The glitch? Flashpoint is trying to get accredited as a College and in order to do so they need to add academics. This came to light after the Tour and Application/Acceptance, but before he actually started. D started in September anyway, but was disillusioned right away. He wasn't there weeks before he started cutting the core classes. Core class. Only English at that point. They weren't teaching Shakespeare either, but did think their graduates should be able to read contracts and write resumes. D wanted none of it. Oh, did I nention that he seemed to have found the money to get more tattoos, horrid knuckle tattoos that freak me out even today. Of course people in the "industry" can look like that, no problem.

StW and I took a week of vacation to the Outer Banks beach house the last week of October. While there I received a call from the Dean of Students asking if I knew where D has been "for the last 2 weeks."

Fast forward because I'm not sure rehashing all the details yet again would be helpful. I already do that weekly with Jay. Suffice to say, the annual pre-holiday mental health meltdown was alive and well in 2008 too.

I'll write more about D soon.

Now I feel like writing about the very short time I enjoyed life as an empty nester. I've said that empty nesting is vastly underrated and it's true. (Need I interject that I do love my sons?) I was actually concerned I wouldn't know what to do with myself after the last kid moved out. I've been mothering for 32 years now, the last 12 on super-hyper mode. I have no more hobbies, participate in no athletics and have had these years take a huge toll mentally and physically. And yet...

I found fun! It wasn't that I wasn't concerned, or worried, or scared, but somehow without the daily reminder in my face, (and no doubt with the help of meds, continuing therapy, and working it) I was able to discover ME and even convince myself that I am entitled to a life of my own. How in the world has that missed my ken for so long?

I am my mother's daughter.

So.

One single person missed me here. (Though a second has mentioned checking in occasionally in the past.)
[Waving]
I'm not sure anyone really needs to write about their lives on the www at all, let alone in three different places.
(Yes, I've embraced the short attention span mayhem that is Facebook.)
But then it's not like I'm actually, truly writing anything anywhere, if by writing one means having something of interest to share.
Yet, this failure to blog is certainly not for lack of things happening. If anything, quite the contrary.
So maybe, since nobody reads this [shh] anyway, I'll see if by logging in now and again, I can make some coherent sentences roll from my fingertips and keyboard to our screens.
Have a great weekend.
Go Titans.

The Less You Write...

• The less you write.
• So much has happened
• Yet nothing much at all
• StW had a big birthday. He is 60! I have only just begun teasing the old guy.
• I made dinner and clove cake today. J and GF joined us.
  
• W and D must have forgotten.
  
• We bought a bed. King size.
  
• We have been cohabiting ever since. (I'm getting my room ready for Dad.)
  
• The CPAP works. He doesn't snore and no more apnea.
  
• It is very difficult to leave a bed this comfy.
• Especially when you're depressed and anxious and cocooning.
• So much so, you're hardly online, but you're trying to hold it all together.
• (You begin to talk in the third person.)
  
• Lots of reading has been done in this new bed
• I'm reading 2: The Power of Now and An Irish Country Doctor
  
• We are currently reading Charles Dickens together
• I bought a cabinet for my bathroom at IKEA yesterday in the "as is" section.
  
• "As is" meant it was already assembled. Woo hoo!
• It was truly Spring this weekend
  
• I got my car washed
• It's really the ugliest time of year though
  
• The snow has melted (or most of it) but clean up hasn't begun, and nothing is growing yet
• But there's hope. And birds.
• Sallie Mae turned down my loan request. I'm tapped out I guess.
• I had to have StW cosign
• The kicker will be when D ends up in rehab instead of college.
• Or not, because he is 18 now
• And such adult behavior you never have seen!
• So that's my check in, I couldn't attend more than bullet points.
• No worries, I'll snap out of it soon, in the meantime, the reading of literature can't be a bad thing, can it?

G'night.

Booked

April 14th

That's the day Dad is coming to visit, for 9 days at first. We'll see how it goes. Mom and Ger need a break and there's little else I can do from here, so I invited him to come and he's "as excited as a little kid," according to Mom.

Much more to add, but I'm giving it a rest today. These are interesting times we live in.

Survived my LAST Spring Break!

• Traffic Court Part Deux tomorrow
• Which reminds me, I need to mail in my guilty plea on my own speeding ticket in NY last week
• Signs StW really IS as nice as Mom thinks he is:

1. He made dinner today
2. He's listing stuff on eBay for me that I would have thrown away during my cleaning spree today and is taking bags and bags of stuff to Goodwill for me
   
3. The house looks worse as my room looks better, he's ignoring that as the process continues
   
4. He sat and oohed and aahed over photos, cards and scrapbooks with me today (somehow this was part of the cleaning process, so it will apparently take a bit longer than the day of toil I thought it would be)
5. After I was showered and in pajamas, I had one of those "oh crap!" moments, remembering I scheduled 2 patients for tomorrow morning. He drove to my office and brought home their charts so I could call them to reschedule. (HIPAA be damned.)
6. He also brought back a peanut buster with 9 thousand calories of hot fudge alone, even though we'd looked at photos earlier...photos where we were both thin and hot, both in our 20's, he along side his red Porsche convertible, me straddling a motorcycle in tight jeans and bodysuit. Youth really is wasted on the young. Ah well.

• It's over!! Spring break is finally over and it's a school night. We'll see how that goes.
• [It went fine.] It seems we're back to school night hours, not a word was said about his new adult age.
• The real test is if/when he goes to school tomorrow.
• StW is in the kitchen sterilizing his CPAP once again. Tonight I really do need to make an effort to stay in here the whole night. My room is still trashed, a dresser has been removed but clothes and boxes are all over my bed.
• It's the last day of March.
• There was just a band of coyotes warring outside. We quickly took a cat head count then turned the outside lights on to try to scare them away. What does one do? It's the freakiest sound.
  

G'night.

Digging In

It's been a weekend!
Yesterday we shopped for the bed and found one. It will be delivered on Wednesday. J accepted the offer of the current bed, as he sleeps on a futon, so that all worked out pretty well. After errands, we stopped for an early dinner at a tiny Mexican restaurant, one we'd been to once before when it was featured on Check Please in Chicago. You can't get into the place during normal dinner hours. It washed the taste of Indian Cuisine out forever.

I spoke with BossFroc, who called from Marrakesh, to give med orders. It's great now that she (her hubby) has an International cell phone. I'll bet the food there is "interesting" too.

Disturbing was my hour long discussion with Ger last evening. Not surprisingly, his version of what transpired at the attorney's office on Friday, and more importantly, the fall out afterwards, was a little different than Mom's.

While we've always known Dad had a problem with collecting/shopping/hoarding, we (at least I) didn't know the full extent of the problem. Sure he bought everything from stamps and antiques and junk he claimed were of value to books and toys and houses and cars, but, heck, I figured he earned the money and researched the stuff (there were always catalogs laying around and he read newspapers, The Wall Street Journal, etc) and it was just another way for him to invest, which he also did in real estate and the stock market in years gone by.

But now, and at least for the last few years, for whatever reason, maybe the Perfect Storm health-wise, he buys everything, from food he shouldn't be eating to you-name-a-piece-of-crap. When I was there last week I attempted to clean out his van. The man can open a library with his books alone....except libraries don't keep old moldy books. There are bicycles everywhere. He's got "art" and toys and tools and you name it, he brings more home everyday. I threw out rotting food! It was truly mortifying.

He did turn over his credit cards last week and, as I've previously written, Mom now has the mail go to a PO box. The next step is the removal of all car keys. I will speak to his doctor when he returns from vacation on Tuesday and let him know it's time and update him on recent events. According to the legal paperwork, I am responsible for health care stuff and Ger is in charge of the financial stuff. I am going to try to take some time off in May and go help with the clean up/out process. By then D will (hopefully) be graduated and maybe he'd like to earn a few bucks filling dumpsters and listing stuff on ebay and craigslist. Surely something of value must be in the mix. If not, my Dad has squandered the family fortune he worked for, over the last couple of years. I have always thought, jokingly, that "dying broke is perfect financial planning," but when it leaves your kids to clean up literally tons of your crap, the rules change.

In the meantime, my brother is stuck cleaning out every dilapidated house they have so they are at least "broom cleaned" and put on the market in this terrible real estate economy. But it all has to go, at a loss or not, in order to pay the outstanding bills and to support them for the rest of their lives without further accumulation of debt. It was a job he never wanted, and certainly never envisioned having to do while my parents were still alive. Like J, Ger is pretty OCD, traits that stand them both well in their jobs and lives, but which make it even more difficult for them to be around such Godawful mess.

In a train wreck sort of way, it's been fascinating reading up on all this. Addiction, compulsive shopping, hoarding, OCD, and all the other mental health issues swirling around in our family cauldron actually have some things in common too, plus I've been reading about a glucose in the brain connection. My Dad's brother is a Psychiatrist. Wouldn't he have a field day with our branch?

I'm going to go clean my room.

Wrapping Up The weak Week

Somehow, somewhere it must be Spring. The birds are obviously confused. They're back to waking me at the crack of dawn, each day they are joined by new voices, but they only chatter (sing?) long enough to wake me up, then the racket (songs?) stops.

The cats too, are back to wanting to go outside first thing in the morning. There are cat races going on that can't be slept through. Litter boxes remain empty as long as you drag yourself out of bed to let them out, only to have to let them back in minutes later because they're surprised it's not Spring as they remembered.

I dutifully called Mom for her birthday yesterday and got the latest rundown. Of course yesterday was also the follow up attorney day. Dad forgot her birthday for the first time in 50 years, though I know he knew about it last week as he presented her with a piece of Meissen porcelain with a happy birthday. She was less than elated. His presents are along the line of what he likes or thinks of value, not really what she might actually desire, like a watch to replace the one she lost in Europe last year.

(Somehow that reminds me, Mom told me that she just loves StW, "he's such a nice man -long pause- and you deserve it too." Whatever that means. I told him he has my parents totally bamboozled.)

Ger spent more time with them after the attorney's appointment, repairing more little things around the house, spending time. I know this because she told me she feels guilty that he's taking time off work to do things for them, like he's some college kid needing to work every hour to pay the rent, rather than a skilled craftsman, already retired with a full pension, and working at a craft he loves under terms he made. Sheesh.

It seems that Dad will be coming to visit (assuming he agrees) in a few weeks when BossFroc takes her next week long vacation. It's Mom's plan, I'm assuming she'll discuss this with Ger, to go through all Dad's paperwork at that time. Apparently not much gets accomplished with Dad hovering, and it's long past time this should have all been done.

Taking a lesson from all this, I have decided to clean out my bedroom, which has been sort of like sleeping in a storage room ever since the kitchen remodeling. I mean really, who needs a file cabinet in their bedroom?? I do not want my kids having to clean up after me to the extent we'll be cleaning up after my parents, a task that seems to be falling mostly on Ger (sorry!) because of his proximity. So while that's my goal this weekend, I've decided to go the extra mile and actually redo the room, take all the rest of my things out and and get the room ready for my Dad's visit.....which means I'm going to try to move into StW's room again. Always wishing my stay becomes permanent, his agenda for this weekend includes bed shopping. We're thinking if the bed was more comfy, bigger, better, whatever, maybe it will work out this time. Personally, I think it's about window placement and snoring, but he does need a new bed so I suppose it won't hurt to look.

Last night StW and I went out to dinner, adventurously trying out a new restaurant and cuisine at a restaurant touted to be "Chicago's best Indian Restaurant." I honestly have never had Indian cuisine and so cannot account for why I thought I didn't like Indian cuisine. Between the two of us, we got a taste of a variety of things. Like all the sushi I have tried, I can now unequivocally and without hesitation, after all, I have TASTED it, say that I do not like Indian food and will never eat it again. But, heck, at least we tried something new and actually left the house, which alone was a major accomplishment this week as I can't even describe my moods as a "funk."

D graced us with his presence long enough to grab meds, ask if I would drive him down to W's (no) and show me the blown glass pipe his on again off again GF gave him for his birthday. I'm surprised he handed it to me after the bong smashing incident of years gone by. He called and had W come pick him up and did not stay long enough to take out the trash or recyclables, which were stacked up right in front of the door and which he had to practically step over in order to leave.

So. It's sort of a weekend of chores and errands. I am on call and need to stop at the office to check messages, labs and med refills. Maybe I'll stop across the street at Borders to pick up a couple of books recommended by MM. I might as well get started on one now that I've actually started and finished one complete book in a reasonable amount of time.

Have a great weekend!

It's Better To Burn Out....

• Tomorrow is my mother's 71st birthday. She can still work me under the table, and probably you too.
• Tomorrow is my nephew's birthday also. Ger's 1st son. He's legal now.
• My mom is a martyr, always has been. She can't help it. She was someone's slave in another life.
• I just saw a flash that looked like D. I think he came in to get his medicine and is now gone again.
• There is still an ice cream cake in the freezer with Happy Birthday and his name on it. It hasn't even been cut into.
• I think I'm empty nesting.
• Who's have thunk it?
• Interesting article about Singulair in the news today (linked to depression, anxiety, even suicide.) Guess who's on Singulair?
• ....than to fade away.... I'm fading away. No one will notice.
• It's almost April. It's been snowing all day. At first it was too warm to stick, but once again the boughs are white and droopy.
• J swept and mopped all my floors today, emptied all the bins and baskets, and bagged up trash and recyclables. It was nice to come home from work to clean floors and the smell of Murphy's Oil.
• D ran through here with wet shoes on.
• The sadness is overwhelming at times, and I don't know where it's coming from. I've certainly gone through way worse times than these.
• Tomorrow starts a week on call while BossFroc travels to Morocco. She's not excited, she's been there before. This is an obligatory "bring your wives with you" sort of trip.
• She gave me an American Airlines gift certificate for my birthday.
• I need to go in to the office tomorrow and take sutures out of a patient's forehead, then again on Monday to take staples out of her head.
  
• Other than that, I am going to forward the phones to my cell phone and hope it's quiet so I can wallow in peace for a few days.
• StW is very supportive, but worried. He needn't be. It happens in cycles, likely triggered by someone else's cycles.
• Or the moon.
  
• I finished The Red Tent. I loved it.

G'night.