I'm gonna spank you!

She's a Yahtzee playing fool!

 I'm way behind on blogging..... ha! LIFE.

Let's throw down with a little Yahtzee.

Ones, twos, threes, fours, fives and sixes. Three of a kind, four of a kind, full house, small straight, large straight, Yahtzee and chance.

My momma loves this game. Every time we play I say, "Okay. This time, I'm gonna spank you!" She responds, "Yeah, right!" and laughs.

She doesn't hesitate to decide on what she's rolling for, nor does she hesitate on where she's going to drop those points. Me, on the other hand....I contemplate. Maybe, that's why I lose. 

We been playing for months. We play the entire sheet and then we add it up. Sometimes we play one column at a time and sometimes we play scramble and do the entre sheet with no columns. We play in whatever fashion she wants.

Out of all the rounds we've played, I've won once. ONCE~!

She blows my mind. We can finish a game and she can have that sheet added up before I can get my calculator out and my numbers added. It's insane the part of her brain that is the mathematical side. 

I tried to teach her a dice game not long ago and it was simply too much. She got pretty frustrated with me. Her words, "You just want to teach me something so you can cheat and win." (Yeah, ok, mom.)

So, when it comes to Yahtzee.... I bow down to the QUEEN!

~bo

I AM GRATEFUL!

 

When you step into a caregiving role, there are so many things that change in your life. The "new" newness requires plans for everything and so many things that need to be put in place. As the sole caregiver, one thing I never thought about, nor prepared for was, what if I get sick and land in the hospital?

I was prepared if she got sick, but not for myself.

If she gets sick, I know I will pack a bag and grab my laptop and be with her. Sammi Kay will go with friends.

I am so grateful for knowing what will happen if she gets sick.

But, I wasn't prepared for a situation with me.

Last Sunday morning, around 4:00 in the morning, I woke with what I'll call charley horses in my heart. I didn't fully wake up and wasn't convinced it wasn't a dream. It lasted a few minutes and I went back to sleep.

I missed the alarm for church. I was simply exhausted. I woke up around 9:30am.

I rested all day.

We were invited to Tyler and Heathers for dinner. So we went.... in our PJs.

We had dinner, and not much after dinner, mom had accident. I was frustrated. She was embarrassed and it caused Tyler and Heather to have to have a conversation with their kids on why GG pooped her pants. And answer the question....why did it come out of her pants?

I cleaned mom up, we went home and got her in the shower.

I was grateful for a meal I didn't have to prepare.

On Monday, I was extremely tired. Checked my blood pressure. It was normal for me. So I rested and took it easy for the day.

Tuesday rolled in and I was still tired. I didn't feel good and had some pressure across my shoulder blades. I just couldn't put my finger on why I didn't feel good and why I was so tired. I was sure it was my blood pressure but the numbers on the monitor said it wasn't. 

I texted a friend from church and asked if he would be available to sit with mom if I could get in the see my doctor tomorrow after her appointment. He said yes.

I am grateful he said yes.

Wednesday morning, I woke again with charley horses in my heart. My shoulder blades felt like I had done a huge lift and my tummy was not in a happy place.

I couldn't focus on me. I needed to focus on mom. Get her up and get her to an appointment with an orthopedic doctor for pain management and to talk about her knees, which always hurt so bad. Her appt was at 8:00am.

We completed her appointment with a game plan for her knees and then we headed home. (Man, I feel rough). I am grateful we have a plan for her knees.

Shortly after arriving home, my friend arrives and I leave. I've decided to go to the ER because I'm not so sure I'm not having or have had a heart attack. Is it where I want to go? No. But my gut tells me that's where I need to go. So, I did.

The hospital wasted no time in getting things in order and rolling to get me checked out. EKG. Bloodwork. CTscan. (Man, I had hospitals but I am grateful they didn't play around.)

My bloodwork was abnormal. My heart enzymes were elevated. The doctor decides to admit me.

HELLLOOOOOOO CHAOS and STRESS! 

What am I going to do with mom? 

What will she say? 

What will she do? 

How will she handle me not coming home?

I try coordinating people and things and, and, and, and....my blood pressure skyrockets. I have to say hard words to my family... "Figure it out. I can't do this right now."

I'm taken upstairs to a semi room. No door. Just a curtain.

When the doctor comes in I had just hung up with mom. I was in tears. I could hear the distress in her voice.

We (the doctor and me) talk about how I recently became the sole-caregiver and get little time off. She listens, never taking her eyes off me. Tears streaming down my face because I'm more worried about how my momma will handle the evening then if I have a heart attack or stroke out.

Dr. Jamie says, "You're stressed and exhausted. I'm going to give you a cocktail of meds to calm you down. You'll have another EKG in the morning and a nuclear stress test around 7:00am." and.... she ordered that cocktail and knocked me out.

They moved me to a room in the back corner.

There was no beeping machine like you typically hear. No lights on. Just me, my IV, heart monitor leads and a BP cuff. The nurse ran my blood pressure, recorded it and then took off the cuff and said she'd be back in a few hours.

I am so grateful for this room. It's cool, dark and quiet.

I'm not sure if she ever came back. At 4:00am on Thursday, I wake to a male nurse coming in for another EKG. Then I was wheeled down to look for blood clots in my legs. I had an abnormal blood test that had them feel I could have a blood clot.

A few hours pass and I was rolled down for a nuclear stress test. That test took almost 3 hours. Wore me out!

All tests came back normal. No answers on why my enzymes were elevated or why the other test was abnormal. Doctors are chucking it up to stress and exhaustion.

I'm released. I am grateful! I'm headed home.

I'm not sure who was happier to see me when I walked in the door. My momma or my daughter-in-love.

Mom and I got to bed early that night and we both rested well.

I honestly don't remember much of Friday. I slept til almost 11:00am. The rest of the day was just a bit of a blur. I laid on the couch watching tv with mom and we went to bed rather early again.

It's now 8:30 on Saturday night.

Today, guys showed up from church to fill holes dug by a previous tenants dog.

Such a blessing to us. Now Sammi Kay and run, the grands can play and mom can walk in the yard without me stressing over one of them getting hurt from a hole. 

I am so incredible grateful for these fine fellas from my church.

The rest of the day was rather chill. Dinner served.

I'm tired, but feeling much better.

I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I hear mom getting up saying she has to go to the bathroom. She comes in the kitchen asking what I'm getting as a treat. She is so food oriented. I tell her nothing and show her I'm washing dishes.

I tell her to go to the bathroom before she has an accident and I have to mop again.

She looks at me and does a childlike raspberry. Then, she totally caught me off guard.....she spat at me. Praise Jesus she missed. She goes down the hall laughing at my reaction.

I yell, "It's not funny! DO NOT come back down this hall. GO TO BED! Go to your room. Watch tv, whatever! I don't want to see you!!!!"

Like a child, she uses the bathroom and goes to her room.  I was pissed....and she knew it! I am grateful she knew!

I can handle cleaning up urine and feces. Do I like it? No. I gag my brains out every single time!!

I will not handle being spat at or on. This is where I will draw the line.

I still have to take her her night meds. I really don't want to see her. But I know she needs those meds. So, in her room I go.

I tell her I'm not happy with her and she looks at me and simply says, "Why?"

She either truly doesn't remember the incident or she's onehellofa actress.

I am grateful. I give her meds, kiss her forehead and tell her goodnight.

Here I sit. Blogging. 

This is hard....but I am grateful I get to do this for her. (Oh my...did I just seriously say that?)

Please Lord, let her forget how to spit. That's a sure ride to a nursing home. Because I am grateful I know where my boundary line is drawn.

Go to sleep!

When mom was living in the assisted living facility, she was up all night and slept all day. No one cared.

She had somehow convinced herself and them that she worked 3rd shift and needed to sleep all day and worked at night. This wasn't true.

She did go in around 4am, but she didn't work all night.

When she came to live with me, it was a nightmare!!!

She wanted to watch tv all night and sleep all day and I just couldn't. I was not about to sleep knowing she was awake and possibly into things.... like the fridge!

I can't trust that she won't go out the front door. Or try to cook. Or who knows what!!!

It was a nightly battle. And I became a raging witch. Lack of sleep makes me a very unpleasant person.

When we moved into our home, our internet boxes were updated. I now had an app on my phone. HA! Here me when I say I do very little from my phone. Text and talk....that's it.

For the first month our internet was bonkers. No service. Little service. Lagging service. The service provider would say it was looking ok on their end but I couldn't keep connection. I can't tell you how many times I called to complain. Sometimes spending hours on the phone trying everything they told me to try.

One night, late, I had to call again. Our tv's weren't working. It was a night I decided I wanted to binge watch tv and it was a fail! So I called to complain once again.

This time I was heard!!

Her response was "I'm so sorry. I believe you have a defective router. Let me ship a new one." I responded, "No. I will return this to the store in the morning. I can't wait 2 days for shipping."

The next day I was off to the store. Router exchanged. All set up and working!

WOOHOOO we have working internet.

The best part of the day was when my caregiver asked if I knew I could 'pause' moms tv through the app. "Uhmmmm, excuse me...what???? Nooooooo!!! Tell me more!"

Show she showed me how. Sweet mother of God that's the best thing since fresh baked bread from the oven, sliced with a dallop of butter on top!

Ya'll.... I have never been so happy.

Tonight makes two (2) weeks of night-time peace. Moms typically in bed by 9 watching her tv. Her tv somehow messes up every night. I'm not sure how... maybe she's hitting something wrong. I'll check it in the morning.

Between new sleep medication for her and me pushing a button on my phone to 'pause' her wifi service in her room every night around 11pm, this caregiver is getting some much needed sleep.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

~bo

Lock Down.

(I started writing this on Sept 28th)

Oh the craziness that happens up in this house!!!

Mom doesn't stop eating.

Some is boredom. Some is because she doesn't remember she ate. Some is simply because she loves and wants ice cream!

Maybe I blogged this a while back...ha!...I don't remember. 

My momma loves ice cream. LOVES IT!

So, a couple weeks ago I bought all the fixin's to make banana splits. Ice cream, bananas, hot fudge, caramel sauce, cool whip, chopped nuts. Go big or go home!

I made her an extra large banana split. Seriously, extra large!!! I went back to the kitchen to make myself a banana split and before I could get in the living room to sit down and eat mine with her, hers was gone. G.O.N.E.

Out of her mouth came, "I want another one."

"Mom, you can't have another. I made you an extra large one and that was a lot that you just ate.", I replied. She instantly became frustrated and said, "Make me another one!!" I went to the kitchen and piddled around hoping she would forget. She didn't. She was all about that ice cream.

She gets up and went in the kitchen and got herself more ice cream. I was not happy. She ate her ice ream and then we headed to our rooms for the night. I was frustrated to say the least.

At some point in the middle of the night, she helped herself to more!!! She ate the entire 1/2 gallon of ice cream, except for about 2 spoonfuls, the entire jar of hot fudge, 6-7 bananas, and half a bottle of caramel sauce.

In my best Charlie Brown voice, "UUGHHHHHHH."

(I started to write this last week and just couldnt finish......)Yesterday, or the past 36 hours, I will say have been the hardest. Not because she's doing anything more, but because I'm simply beyond exhausted. (Today is Tuesday).

For the past year I have been trying to get myself on a routine of going to bed at a decent hour. Working in direct sales for many years and guiding a large team, I had a horrible habit of working til 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. In stepping away from direct sales, I've worked on trying to shut my brain down and getting more rest.

I have an alarm on my phone that chimes at 9:20pm. That's my signal to turn off the computer and electronics and position myself for rest. I head to bed. I might watch tv, listen to a book, or just lay and love on Sammi Kay.

There had been a few instances where mom was in the kitchen late at night, eating. Maybe it was leftovers. Maybe not. One night she ate a container of sour cream and an entire jar of pickles. There's no explanation of what she might eat from the fridge.

Sunday evening, my phone chimed. My kitchen was still a disaster and it needed to be put to bed (cleaned up) before I could venture down the hall to the comfort of my bed. Putting my kitchen to bed means to clean it up. In honesty, I was a queen of leaving it until the morning. Heck, who am I kidding...before I became the caregiver of my momma, sometimes, it might be days before it got cleaned up. But that's a whole other blog!

To wake up to lights on in the hallway, I know she's into something in the kitchen.

I will be the first to raise my hand and confess...there is likely something in a bowl that is growing some sort of fungus on it, in my fridge. If mom has her way---she'll eat it. She has no clue what's in a bowl.

She's heated stuff in the microwave, but turned the stove on and left it on. My brain hurts from thinking how I will keep her out of the kitchen.

Someone told me to lock down my kitchen. Locks on everything.

I FEEL SO BAD!!!!!!

This is what I know.... if she has gotten up in the middle of the night and gone to the kitchen to snack, she hasnt gotten the cabinet or the fridge opened. Every thing has locks. It all gets locked when I got to bed.

I will say this.....

it's stopped my midnight munching. I don't want to fumble for the key to the fridge or the magnet to the cabinets.

~bo

The Woman She Was.

Rhona with her 1st grandchild, Tyler. 1989

The woman she was...

was feisty. 

On a friendship level... she had a very small circle of friends. She simply didn't put up with drama and/or bull from anyone. She wasn't a social butterfly. She refused to be part of the local gossip. For the most part she kept to herself and her select few.

Mom was true to her few. She was there for them at the drop of a hat if they needed her.

She was a workaholic. A massive workaholic.

As a single mom, she would pull whatever hours she needed to make the ends meet and to be able to have things she wanted or trips she wanted to take.

Growing up, she was always at work. We were always home alone. 

She wasn't the mom who attended school parties or events. She wasn't the mom who was there cheering us on during the sporting events we participated in.

She was at work. All the time.

When Tyler entered the world, she softened a little. No matter where she went, he always got a treat or toy when she returned. She taught him to love to shop and their shopping adventures together were UNREAL. He didn't want for anything.

When I say she work a lot..... she did. 

She was a supervisor for the postal service. She would cover for any supervisor when needed. 

She was rough and ran a tight ship!

I subbed on a rural route as a part time fill in, in the office where she was a supervisor. 

I'll never forget this incident.

It was early in the morning. We were casing up mail when all of the sudden you heard two people fussing with each other. It grew louder and louder. 

It was her and a male carrier.

He was a full time carrier and he had a calendar hanging in his mail cube of female models in swimsuits. They weren't one piece swimsuits. The images of models were in thongs showing their buttocks and small bikini tops with cleavage.

She was offended. Said she didn't need to look at half naked women.

Mom directed him to take it down. She said she shouldn't have to look at that when she came to talk to him about his route.

His response wasn't what she wanted to hear, so the match began between them. He stood his ground on the fact that it was his cubical and she didn't have to enter it to talk to him.

She was his superior. She sent him home.

He lost his battle and the calendar came down.

In my opinion, she was rude and nasty about it. I will never forget that day. It could have been approached in a much better fashion, not with a office of carriers trying to get their mail up, bags & trucks loaded, but who was I to say anything. I needed my job. It could have been handled behind closed doors, but it wasn't. In my opinion, it was done to set an example. To let everyone know she was the woman in charge and you will not mess with her.

Had I said anything, it would be double trouble for me. Trouble in the office and trouble at home.

So, I remained silent. 

To this day, I despise that day and her actions.

~bo

A CRAPPY KINDA DAY!

 

8/31/24

It was a quiet morning. I was able to sit with a cup of coffee and simply chill in the living room with Sammi Kay.

I enjoyed every sip of my 'Jamaican Me Crazy' coffee. 

I didn't want to move from the couch. It felt good to sit in silence and just pray and sip. Just me, my dog, my coffee and my Jesus.

I mustered the energy to move and put a roast in the crock pot. I do NOT like to cook (YET) and I now have learned that not having something for mom to eat makes me stress out more trying to figure out what to feed her when she's hungry.

Living alone was so easy. I rarely cooked.

Now, I'm trying to learn to plan - which I don't like (YET) but I'm trying.

I hear movement from moms room. I can tell she's getting up to use the bathroom. Then, I hear "dammit!' I head down the hall and ask what's wrong and she replies, "I'm pooping." All I could do was groan.

Sometimes, 'I'm pooping' isn't as bad as I think it will be. I was hoping for that type of 'I'm popping'....but I wasn't so lucky.

She left a trail.  It went from her room to the hall into the bathroom. She only had a gown on so it was free to escape her adult underwear overload. I wanted to cry.

I started cleaning her up first and explained she had to get in the shower. There was no choice. It was just too much. (She hates getting in the shower. It means she's wet and cold.)

At the time I wasn't laughing but as a caregiver all you can do it look back and laugh.

We have a shower bench for mom. She can't stand and step over the tub so the bench allows her to sit and scoot. But once in, I needed her to stand and bend over so I could spray that crap off.

I have THE BEST shower sprayer. Seriously.... the best! 

Our bathroom is small. When you put two plus size gals in there, there is simply no room to move. I ended up getting drenched in the process.

I explain to mom I need her to stand and turn around and hang on to the bench while I spray her down. There was just too much!! It had to be hosed off before I could even bathe her.

She's cleaned up and to bed she goes to get warm and rest. A regular shower kicks her booty. This was twice as long.

I give her a Imodium to help her loose issue.

Down the stairs I go to begin laundry. In this moment, I'm regretting the quiet time I took to sip my coffee. I should have been downstairs tackling all the laundry from urine the day before. Laundry seems to be non stop.

I hate laundry. I hate the steps to the basement where the washer and dryer are.

Maybe, 2 hours later, I hear her stir. I think she's simply getting up for the day.

NOOOPE. Accident #2. And it's worse.

Sammi Kay is a velcro dog and is always under my feet. I thought I had her blocked out of the hallway. Much to my dismay...she was walking through crap on the floor and tracking it. I flipped my shit. 

Insert after laughter.

I had to tell mom to sit still on the toilet while I clean up the dogs paws and all that she's tracked. Then...to the kennel she goes so I don't have a 2nd tracking mess from her.

A friend recently gave me a bag of old towels. Can I just say what a blessing those towels are on this day?!!

Bed stripped and remade. Floor cleaned and mopped. Mom still patiently waiting. She begins to cry when I tell her we have to get her back in the shower again. It's just too much to try any other way.

Shower #2 - complete.

Mom decides she wants to come in the living room after shower #2 and and watch tv and I say, "awesome" even though my heart and mind screams "No. go back to bed!" My back hurts and I just want to cry. So out to the backyard I go.

I don't and won't cry in front of my momma. She doesn't understand. I don't need her any more upset than she is.

I come in from outside and she's headed to the bathroom. Accident #3.

Sweet Jesus, give me strength!!!!!

Her pajama pants caught the majority of this load. Unfortunately, it didn't stop us from having shower #3.

My back is now screaming. It's not strong enough to do all this bending and twisting and carrying wet clothing. In this moment...I want a good stiff drink, but I've been sober for 23 years. Today I crave. Today has been a lot. 

A LOT!!!

I head back outside. I tell mom to stay inside because it's to far if she has another accident. (She loves our backyard and loves coming outside to watch Sammi Kay run and play). Honesty, I just needed to sit and cry. No more holding it in. I needed it to be free and flowing. So, I sat and bawled in my backyard realizing how lonely I am and how hard this is.

A friend sent me a message to say she saw my post and is praying. She encourages me to focus on 5 positive things. I have been practicing daily gratitude for about a year so I instantly pop these 5 things out:

1. Extremely hot water. 2. A washer and dryer in my home. 3. That’s she with me and not being abused. 4. That this is only a rough day and not every day. 5. That I have this time with her even though it’s not easy.

It's now 9:00pm and mom has gone to bed. I'm praying we won't have any incidents in the night.

Being a caregiver is hard. I think it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But this is what I'm learning.... these days, these crappy days, are few compared to the days there are no accidents. On these days, I might flip my shit because I have little to no help and it's overload when it happens ----- but it's just a bad day. It's not the entire journey. It's not every day....but MAN they are HARD and they STINK!

I realize I need to grieve. 

I've lost my complete freedom to come and go and do life, as I please. 

I've lost a mom who can't control her bladder or bowels in certain moments.

I share walk this journey with grace, love and joy. Even on the hard days.

~bo

WHAT THE FLIP?

What the flip?

How is that mattress like that? That bed was against the wall. How is this possible?

Where's my momma? We bought my momma a hospital bed that came with a very thin 4" mattress with little to no support. It kept her from getting a good nights sleep, which kept me from getting a good nights sleep. So, I ordered her a new mattress. A delightful 10 inch mattress that was medium to firm structure. I knew the medium to firm would be great for her back. I made sure it was twin XL because that’s what the bed was…..Twin XL. The mattress arrived in 2 days. Once it inflated to full size, it was heavy. I ordered twin XL but it was about 3 inches wider than the bed. I can make this work, no biggie…

so I thought. In inspecting the mattress, the bed and the wall, I didn't want to damage the mattress since it was wider, so, I took the security rail off the side of the bed next to the wall. I mean…. You can’t fall out of the bed with the side butted up against the wall, right? WRONG! Who knew the stupid bed would move on hardwood floors as she moved, even with the wheels in locked position.???!!!!! Because of the overlap, when she rolled over, it was apparently just enough to give a force that the bed shifted on the floor and out she flipped. I was making chili and heard an indescribable sound. There was no noise. Just a massive thump. I yelled, “What was that?” No response. I booked down the hall thinking she was asleep and Sammi Kay had knocked something over in my office. I was stunned to find her bed in the middle of her room and the mattress in an upside down position. Beneath the mattress was a crying moan and my heart sank. I climbed over the bed to be able to get to my momma. All I could do was hold the mattress and its weight off of her. With the position of the mattress, I couldn’t lift it. I called my son for help. He just happened to be off work. As we waited, she cried because she had to urinate but didn’t want to urinate on the floor. So I grabbed her house coat and shoved it between her legs and under her the best I could. And then I heard myself say, “ok. Pee!” …. And so she did.

I knew there was no holding that need to potty. So, I improvised! My son arrived. He was able to lift the mattress and get it back on the bed. As she lay in the floor we managed to move things enough that he could get to her and lift her up. We got her to the bathroom, cleaned her up and got her back in bed. I gave her some meds to help her relax. My son left. My momma has titanium rods and screws in her back. That was a hard fall and she landed on the rail I had removed and slid under her bed. All I could think of were the, “what ifs.” What if…. she fractured something landing on that metal rail. What if…. A screw broke. What if…. There was damage inside.

You see, she had fallen twice in the assisted living facility and they didn't event do an incident report. Nor did they put it in her chart. But they did record calling me about those falls.

Since those falls, she complained of her back and knees hurting. My thoughts wouldn’t stop.

I called the non emergency line of my city and requested EMS. I wanted to be safer than sorry and have her checked out. They loaded her up and off we went.

They dropped her off. Helped her off the stretcher and into a wheelchair.

She sat in that wheelchair for 10 hours. It was an extremely long day.

The sites you see in the ER!!!!

While we waited, this was the beginning of an X-rated scene beside us.

I took the pic so I could show the nurse and before they could get to him, it was full blown rated-X.

He was moved out of the ER to a room (Imagine that!)

(I can’t make this shit up).

We waited, waited and waited some more. They gave her morphine for her pain and ordered CTscans to check things out.

Her CTscans were done and we waited another 2 hours for results. Scans showed everything was in great condition. Praise God. No injuries. No damage.

Now, we have a baseline. Now, we know should things change.

~bo

(this incident occurred 8/29/24)