AND I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER BLOG AGAIN !

Since Husband passed away almost a month ago I have had no reason to blog.  Blogging was my vent for all the frustration that H caused me.  He was just being himself and I was being my self and never the roads shall meet.  At least that's how it felt at times.  When things got particularly crazy in my head I would turn to the computer, spew all my insanity on to the page and go on with my life.  Leaving you all wondering what was wrong with me!
And then Husband died ! No more confrontation in my life, no more anxiety, no more stress. Seriously. I am so at peace that I have nothing to write about!
Until today . . .
I have projects that are just waiting for me to get to them.  A life time of things I have put off in order to entertain H, travel, cook, clean, laundry, shop etc.  Now it's just me and if I don't feel like eating, I DON'T !  If the laundry has to wait for a week, who cares ! I have straightened up the house but if those dust bunnies want to play under my bed, have at it !  Now it is MY time to do what I want when I want.  And that's exactly what I am doing.  Out a lot, puttering a lot, watching movies, playing on the computer.  But there are those "projects" sitting silently waiting for my attention. Today I decided to attack my closet. Does anyone ever see my closet ? NO. Does it matter if all my shoes are neatly in a row? NO. But it is bugging me!  I WANT to get in there and tear out EVERYTHING, sort through the "fits" and "doesn't fit" clothes, purge myself of shoes I haven't worn in years and toss out junk ! First on the agenda was to rid myself of Ger's shoes and mine. My church has a wonderful ministry to care for the homeless. They feed them every Monday and collect clothing to distribute. Kaelin, Finn, Keri and I took bags of Ger's clothes to the church right after G died but there is still a bunch of stuff here. No one here wants their dad's shoes so I got a big cardboard box and started pulling out shoes.  THE MAN HAD MORE SHOES THAN ME !!  Who knew ???  Shoes stuffed in, under, around the closet totaling 11 pairs of shoes and sneakers! There should be some happy folks in West Palm Beach next week! (I only contributed 2 pair of shoes.) So now the shoes are gone and I can get rid of the shoe shelves that we had bought and placed in under the clothes. 4 shoe shelves moved out of the closet makes my closet look a hundred times bigger. But in back of the shelves are brackets screwed into the wall. Now I want to get rid of the brackets! Out to the garage I go knowing full well this is not a good idea. (The garage being the MAJOR project in my life that may take me the rest of my life to do.) I need a screw driver to get these brackets off the wall. I have bought Husband several electric screw drivers over our many years of marriage but I don't think he has ever used any of them. But now I want one . . .where to look, where to look. The logical place is the tool cabinets, (which I also bought for H with hopes he would organize the tools. HA HA HA HA HA !) An hour later I had organized the top drawer, wall containers and found 2 electric screw drivers, both of which were D E A D !! Naturally ! I picked up the small one only to find it was disgustingly sticky! The rubber, (plastic?) handle had weathered with the humidity and broken down to a horrid sticky mess. Luckily I knew where the "goo gone" was and was able to clean it up in a jiffy. Then I found the power pack, (once again something I had put away long ago for just such an occasion.) and plugged the thing in. That's when the smoke started billowing out of it . . .  As I suspected it was only the goo gone heating up so once I wiped it down again it did stop smoking. (But just in case I put the screw driver in a metal pan in the middle of the floor in the event it was going to blow up or catch fire.)
Now it is 4 hours since I first started the simple task of taking shoes out of the closet. They are still in the box in the closet and I am too tired to do much else. And besides,  it was a good opportunity to get back to blogging. No wonder I have projects !!

RACCOON POOP

Every so often our resident raccoon, (or one of his 300 Florida relatives), stops by our pool to have dinner and a poop. Raccoons are known to wash their food before consumption so our pool is the perfect dining spot. Our neighbors have various fruit trees where our masked marauders gather their dinner. They carry it to our yard, sit by the edge of the pool and dine in comfort. After which the old saying of, "What goes in must come out" takes effect. Little Rocky raccoon then meanders over to the other side of the pool where he squats and dumps, sometimes on the edge of the pool, sometimes IN the pool. To which I say, "EWWWWWWW, GROSS!".  I can tell you it isn't easy scooping raccoon poop from the pool.

And why do I mention this whole gross event? Well, poop seems to be a BIG thing in our lives these days. Between toilet training for the younger grand sons and Grand pa wearing protective covering I am consumed by poop. It's the topic on every ones mind. Smith seems to have finally come to terms with his poop issues.  Finn is still a work in progress but getting very good at making it to the potty in time and Husband, well lets just say the poor guy has issues.

When it comes to this most natural of bodily functions everyone has their comfort zone. A newspaper and a cup of coffee, only after eating, morning and night, regular as clock work or random as when ever the mood strikes you. It's a personal thing that once you are taken out of your comfort zone becomes AN ISSUE !  Some folks I know can't poop in public places, others can't stop pooping no matter where they are. But I guarantee you that once you enter a hospital all power of poop leaves you completely. And hospitals will NOT let you go home until you GO! First they screw up your system with their surgery, diet and irregular sleep pattern and then they tell you to poop. I speak from personal experience IT DOES NOT HAPPEN!  It's like telling you to sneeze on command. NOT !  So take all this history of poop and consider what H is now going through. He has not been out of bed in weeks.  His body is shutting down in so many ways, he is not eating and barely drinking BUT . . . Everyone wants him to poop! This is a very private guy we are talking about. Things like this were NEVER discussed in our many years of marriage and now he is supposed to go on demand in front of the entire staff of Palm Beach Hospice. Once again I say, "It's NOT happening!". Yet everyone continues to ask,"Has he 'gone' yet? When was the last time he 'went?'". I can tell them right now it's not going to happen if he can help it. After all,  could you poop laying down? I don't think I could. Not even with a belly full of nasty liquids meant to make you go. Poor Husband! He keeps pointing to the bathroom and I keep repeating that he isn't strong enough and he can't get up. He then either gets pissed off at me to stop telling him this or he gets a sad yet pained expression that tells me he knows he can't get up but he REALLY REALLY wants to. It's pitiful and painful to watch and frustrating as Hell for both of us.

Maybe I should take him out to sit by the side of the pool . . .

WHEN YOU LOOSE A SPOUSE IN FLORIDA

Florida is a weird state at times.  Lost spouses are a specialty down here. They are often reported as lost on a huge sign flashing over the six lanes of the highway.
Oh, did you think I meant "LOST" as in deceased?  Sorry, I'm talking lost as in among the missing. I personally hate the term "lost" when referring to a person who has died, as in, "I lost my husband last year." Well why the hell have you waited so long to look for him???  I'm preparing a list of responses for anyone who tells me they are, So sorry for my loss. I could say things like, "HUH? Did I loose something? or I'm not lost, are you? or OH MY GOD, did they loose my husband's body?"

The word lost means missing, misappeared (as Smith would say), gone from your sight . . .  When a person dies they are NOT lost. Sure they are gone but we usually know where to find their bodily remains. Lost is when you have no idea where they are. I realize that does happen on occasion but for the most part we usually do know exactly where they are because we have chosen to put them there. As for their soul, well that's a whole other blog.

So back to being LOST in Florida.  I was out the other day driving like a true Florida maniac doing 80 on I 95 when I saw the over head traffic sign flashing that old familiar message, SILVER ALERT.
 Translation: some poor old senior citizen has escaped in his/her car and the family is in a panic to find them.  Personally I would just let them go and see where then wind up. That would really be much more interesting. In fact it could be the premise of a new reality show. Go to the dementia ward of the local nursing home and leave a set of car keys on someones night stand with a picture of the car that the keys go to. Sit back and see what happens.  Then again the poor old soul probably wouldn't know what to do with the keys.   Maybe it would work better with a teenager finding the keys and picture in their high school locker.  It has possibilities.

Also, the Silver Alert signs need to get more creative.  Listing the make, model and plate number just isn't enough.  I want to know if I'm looking for a male or female. What color hair, how old and where are they from and where do  you think they may be going.  And give me their name so that if I should find them I can pull up and yell, "Hey Irving, Your wife is looking for you. Pull over!" Maybe they have a good reason to want to go missing. I could take them for a cup of coffee and we could discuss our options before alerting the authorities.

And have you noticed the "missing" persons alerts are always colors. AMBER, SILVER, even though I know Amber was a child's name it is a color.  Maybe we could have Brown Alert for missing dogs and cats, Green Alert for missing Girl and Boy scouts, Purple or Red Alert for missing priest and cardinals. It could just go on and on.  But we are talking Florida so I guess SILVER is about the only color that covers 90% of the population.

I sure hope H behaves himself because I wouldn't want to loose him before he dies.

WHERE AM I? WHERE WAS I? WHERE AM I GOING?

I seem to have lost myself some where over the past two and a half years. Not just my sense of self but a literal LOST.  I find myself standing some where wondering, "WHY AM I HERE?", "WHERE WAS I GOING?", "WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING?".  Not to say this is something new. HA!  Fat chance! This is a common occurrence and has been for quite some time. (Like forever!) But lately it is really becoming a full time happening. Like just a few minutes ago I found myself in my walk-in-closet just standing there staring into space all all the pretty colors. Then I started to wonder ;
      A. Where am I?
      B. What am I doing here?
      C. Why am I here?
 I then began to realize my entire body was freezing and that answered questions B & C, which then brought the realization of A.  (I was naked and freezing and needed to get dressed so I must be in the closet!)

At what point of my life did something so natural and routine become a mathematical equation on the scale of quantum physics?   I seem to remember the days when I would crawl out of bed, wash and dress, have breakfast and be out the door in 45 minutes to put in a full day of teaching. Well folks, That Ship has sailed !  Everything I do no involves 45 minutes of thought, preparation, planning, scheduling and work! And I still find myself lost and confused. And forget the F-O-C-U-S !  Again I say, "HA!" Focus is non existent in my life these days. I cannot watch TV because I seriously can not follow a plot, and I was watching The Wiggles at the time. Forget something as complicated as Sesame Street! I haven't even turned on the TV in weeks. But never fear . . . FOX NEWS continues to play on the bedroom TV. The constant yelling and talking is soothing to Ger. (It's OK that it is like nails on a chalk board to me because most of the time I don't know where I am anyway.)

So if you see me wandering down the street with a dazed and confused look on my face just take my arm and guide me to some familiar spot where, if I remain long enough, I will probably find myself and continue on my way. But  for now I have a million things to do if only I could remember what they were and why I had to do them.

HAS ANYONE SEEN ME ?

I think I have lost myself . . .    all of a sudden the bottom of my world has fallen out and I am spiraling through each day not anchored to anything.  People coming and going, phones ringing, and a strange body lying on the bed next to mine.  Where the Hell am I and who took my "normal" away?

I guess I bitched and moaned enough that God figured he would shake things up and let me know what life could really be like. I keep thinking about all those poor people out there who are suffering day in and day out for years!  Starving children, sickness, pain and suffering of all sorts and I am complaining because H is dying.  He is comfortable, he is not in any pain and he is sleeping!  How much better could it be than to have your spouse not suffering and at ease.  We do still have our moments though.  As Jeanne said, "Husband won't go easy!  He will hang on to make you work as long as possible". And she is so right !  Here we have H with lung cancer, spread into his liver and abdomen and he still has me waiting on him hand and foot. I have had more physical contact with this man that I have in 45 years of marriage. And because he is just laying in bed all the time I have to move him and wash him and care for him. AND HE HATES EVERY MINUTE OF IT !  For a man who never liked to be touched he is suffering me constantly touching him. When I sit with him and try to hold his hand he barely has the strength to pull away.  So naturally I hold his hand every chance I get !  I may spend a few more centuries in Purgatory for this but it's worth every touch.
Today we had the Hospice nurses aide in to "bathe" Ger and he suffered through that. How horrible this must be for him. I wonder if this is his Purgatory? Is he going to stick around till he pays for all his sins? Since he was a good man all through his life there are probably only the things that he did to make me nuts that he has to pay for. I figure he will be around for quite some time if that's the case.  Or maybe this is my Purgatory . . .  since all I did was piss and moan about the man for the past 45 years God figured He'd really make me work and see just how easy I had it.
What ever the case it is a very strange situation. I have a 160 pound infant to take care of. And H has to let go of all his inhibitions and let me do what needs to be done. The two of us have been given one final chance to get this marriage right.
I have seen my mother die, my father and my aunt also. But never have I been front and center like this. 24/7 watching, listening and caring for H is my worst nightmare but I wouldn't change this for the world. I am here with H, talking to him about everything and nothing and HE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO LISTEN !  Seriously though, I am loving this time that God has given us. It is giving me an opportunity to say all the things G never wanted to hear, all the mushy stuff women say, all the dopey things that make no sense but I need to share with him anyway.
And through it all I keep thinking, "DEAR GOD, when it's  my time please let me be hit by a bus! I don't want my children to have to do this for me!"

I DONT THINK YOU LOVE ME !

Today's quote of the day is from Husband, first thing this morning as I was trying to get him to stand and walk a couple of steps so I could get him back into the bed. He is particularly weak this morning after a semi strong day yesterday. (It's all relative here folks, yesterday he was able to stand on his own and transfer from bed to wheelchair with a minimum of help. He was feeling so good he wanted to take a ride in the car to get a bagel for breakfast. He walked around the dining room with the physical therapist, TWICE ! ) Thursday's hydration came with a bonus package of steroids that kicked in yesterday, thus the increase in energy. But it's a false sense of hope because by last night H couldn't get out of his chair. I got him into bed and settled last night and he slept well only to wake me at 8:30 this morning because he was ready to get up.            NOT !       I think he was either still half asleep or maybe it was just CHEMO BRAIN but H could not stand, no less transfer to the wheelchair. I managed to get him into his chair but then he decided he wanted to go back to bed. I got him washed off and changed but he still wanted to go back to bed.  So the battle to stand, walk forward a couple of steps, turn and sit on the bed was back on. After three or four attempts to stand he managed to get off the chair by a few inches so I started to push and pull to get him close enough to sit on the bed without falling off. That's when he told me, "I don't think you love me any more!". I almost dropped him right then and there !  Once I got him sitting on the bed I asked him if he thought I would be doing all this if I didn't love him.  

The poor guy just doesn't get it. Over the past two and a half years H has been telling me, "I love you more than you love me." He truly believes that. H has always thought that love means spending 24/7 with a person. When I wanted to do things on my own he thought it was because I didn't love him. If I wanted to spend time with my friends he thought it was because I didn't love him and now that I am pulling and pushing him he thinks it's because I don't love him. And that breaks my heart!  I know a lot of this is his chemo brain but I also know it has roots in his true beliefs. God has given us this time to try to help both of us understand each other but it sure isn't easy.

This morning I laughed at the thought that I would be wiping my husbands butt if I didn't love him. I might be doing the job but I would probably be using sand paper ! He should only know how lucky he is that I DO INDEED love him!

PARKING LOT SMACK DOWN. WWF STYLE !

Im walking a very thin line these days and it probably won't take much to push me right over the ledge and go postal. My Nurbs (as one of Ger's students called them oh so many years ago) are SHOT ! The slightest push and I will erupt like Veseuvius on an hot summer day. Why people can't see this is beyond me. I feel like my body is wound tighter than a clock spring and it is costing me every ounce of energy to hold myself together.

As a result of this heightened state of Nurbs I am moving slower, breathing deeper and trying very had to put myself in the "Other guys shoes". I understand not everyone is "Having difficulties" but stupidity and ignorance are still tough to tolerate.

Brought Husband to the cancer center today for some 2 hours of hydration. Husband is a MESS today. Brain function low, body function even lower.  We were up a 5 again this morning deciding where we were going and why we HAD to get up. H was completely soaked which meant changing him completely and changing the bed pads. That must have exhausted him because he wanted to go back to bed once he was dry. Got up at 9 and had to be out of the houses by 10:30.  Not easy to do but We were pretty close to on time. Once we got to the cancer institute I realized the place was packed and all our usual handicapped spots were taken. There was a pick up truck in front of us pulled to a stop to let a woman JUMP, (literally) out and run into the building. I waited calmly for them to start moving and then watched in complete anger as they pulled into the last open handicapped parking spot. And there they SAT !  Two people in the truck, neither one moving to get out and the other passenger already in the building. I now have to park at the other end of the lot, haul out the wheel chair and maneuver H into the chair and across the lot. I was livid. I swore and cursed and envisioned running over to the pick up, pulling open the car door and dragging the driver out and onto the ground where I would smash their stupid heads against the cement. HOW DARE THEY PARK IN MY HANDICAPPED SPOT !

I did none of the above but I really really wanted to.  It is only going to be a matter of time before I loose it on some poor unsuspecting slob.  I apologize now for my imminent behavior. I can feel it building. There is nothing I can do to avoid this other than taking a bottle of happy pills and locking myself into a closet for the duration of this Cancer battle.