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hashed taco-dilla March 31, 2008
We’re slowly gathering things from Jim’s apartment and bringing them over to ours. The heavier things, i.e., the microwave and that incredibly-complex-to-put-together book shelf thing from Target. The couch we are giving away, anyone want it? It’s free! Just come over and get it yourself. We are selling a TV for cheap. It’s a 27″, Sharp, ( I think ) and there is nothing wrong with it. We just don’t need it.
I made a delicious white trash creation. It’s called a Hashed Taco-Dilla. Or maybe you can think of a better name. Anyway, you know those frozen hash brown bars you can find at the store? Well I browned up some of those, and then put one in the middle of a small corn tortilla with some cheese and folded it in half. I wish I had a picture of these, they were small and cute and the hashbrown filled up the entire tortilla, so there wasn’t any excess tortilla hanging over. I made two for me and two for Jim. Jim put BBQ sauce all over it. ALL OVER IT. Which made it more white trash. It reminded me of when Tristan ate a plain, uncooked tortilla with BBQ sauce in it.
Doodie March 30, 2008
My dad seems to be doing much better. He’s been on the feeding tube for about 2 weeks. I can’t imagine how weird it must feel like to be always full; to not want to orally eat anything because you have that full feeling. It’s weird for him also, because he’s not sure when he has to go to the bathroom or not and often, when he rings the bell the for the nurse, it’s a false alarm. It’s happened so often that they begin to think he’s crying wolf. Then when it becomes really urgent, they don’t come in time and he goes in the bed. That happened twice today.
Jim and I and my mom stayed with him the whole weekend as always, and today he was a lot better. I saw him lift his leg on his own for the first time in months. I don’t know where all this energy came from, but I hope it continues.
Hoes, not hose. March 22, 2008
How many people in the world do you think came home from work Friday night and threw away a hose? I know at least one did. I’d say about 20.
I’m trying to make the backyard less like a junk yard. There are about 8 dead hoses, (not hoes) out there, that need to get trashed. Trashed, as in thrown away. Not really drunk. Or really trashed hoes.
Love March 20, 2008
In this torn desert world there is no love because pleasure and desire play the greatest roles, yet without love your daily life has no meaning. And you cannot have love if there is no beauty. Beauty is not something you see- not a beautiful tree, a beautiful picture, a beautiful building or beautiful woman. There is beauty only when your heart and mind know what love is. Without love and that sense of beauty there is no virture, and you know very well that, do what you will, improve society, feed the poor, you will only be creating mischeif, for without love there is only uglyness and poverty in your own heart and mind. But when there is love and beauty, whatever you do is right, whatever you do is in order. If you know how to love, then you can do what you like because it will solve all other problems.
–Jiddu Krishnamurti
Jim and I are back together. And happier than ever!
I’m off the hook March 20, 2008
Not in a funny or crazy kind of way, but in a relieving way. My mom called me yesterday and told me I don’t have to play messenger anymore, and that she’s given the job to Genie and Marge. It’s not fair to put your daughter in the middle of a feud with your sister in law. Even though I’m off the hook, it doesn’t mean I’m free of being barked at about how my Aunt Ginger is, “calling the social worker,” and “paging the doctors,” and “calling everybody.” I told her I didn’t want to hear about it because I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. Yeah, of course she’s calling, she wants to find out about her brother! “Well, isn’t having Genie and Marge telling her the news enough?” “No, maybe not for her. Look, you need to accept opinions that are different from your own rather than fuming about them.” The whole time I was completley calm too, but she kept yelling at me like I had done something wrong. Then she hung up on me, like always.
…
My dad has moved from the rehab center back to the hospital again so he can be put on a feeding tube. He’s been on that for one day and already there is an improvement in his motivation, alertness and talkativness.
Dad. March 16, 2008
Unfortunately, I don’t think I can say that my dad is improving. In fact, its been a slow up hill battle that keeps getting steaper with no resolution and lowered motivation. It’s so hard to make someone want to keep trying and fighting when they’ve already given up. We feed him and try to get him to eat everything given to him, but the amount he’s been eating gets smaller and smaller. If he continues like this the doctors said he’ll have to go on a feeding tube.
One humorous moment- My dad said he couldn’t eat any more, but I was a little persistent in trying to get him to eat more. He said, “I’m going to throw up!” When he’s angry, his voice can actually get louder than a whisper. But then he said, “I’ll eat the dessert,” just after that. So, we don’t know how serious he is when he says those things. We all went to get In N Out burgers and my Dad chimed in that he wanted one too! We were all very surprised because this was the first time he mentioned wanting any kind of food. We got a burger for him, but then when we gave it to him, he could barely get eat one bite.
Today was a big day for him. I was persisent in motivating him to gather the energy within him so he could go for a ride in the wheel chair and go outside, see the outdoors and cool breeze, sunshine, vitamin D, etc….He was hesitant at first but with the doctors also assuring him that it’d be good for him, he agreed. This is a big proceedure because my dad can’t walk. He can’t sit himself up in bed or even stand. So, at the rehabilitation center, they have this machine that’s like a motorized hammock. They put the hammock underneath him while he’s in bed, and then hook it up to a lift. So, he’s in the air in a hamock that slowly drops him into the chair. It was scary to watch this, and a little shocking at the big proceedures just to get someone from a bed to a wheelchair. The doctors said he should stay in the chair for about 2 hours. It doesn’t sound like a lot to you and me, but for someone that’s been in bed for a month who’s lost all muscle, even sitting can be so strenuous on your body. He complained a lot. I took him to the lounge area where they have a piano, and played some stuff for him. I thought it’d be theraputic. Then we went outside, but it actually was a little chilly so we had to go back in pretty quickly. When we got back inside, we met up with my mom. I tried to get my dad to eat more of his power bar, which he usually loves, but was now refusing to eat. I said forcfully, “Dad, you have to eat this! Open your mouth! Eat it!” Finally he did, but then 5 minutes later I noticed brown goo leaking out the side of his mouth, I wondered what it was, and realized it was the chocolate from the power bar that he didn’t swallow and just left in his mouth. Then he said, “Get me out! I want to go back on the table!” (table=bed). We told him he couldn’t yet, and had to wait a bit longer till the doctors got back. He got angrier and said “Get me out! I’m in pain! Don’t make me beg! Help Help HELP” Loudly so other doctors could hear. The doctors/nurses there get used to this from other patients as well and have learned to igore it because usually they just want company. My mom told him again he would have to wait till the docor got back so he can operate the lift. “Sue, get me outta here, I will divorce you.” We wheeled by some other people, family members for other patients and as we passed them my dad would say, “Help, she’s hurting me.” Of course we know he’s in pain, but it’s really hard to do this to someone when you know in the long run its going to help them, but they think youre hurting them.
Also, sometimes its hard to understand what he’s talking about. Today he said, “Where the dogs crap. Where the dogs crap. Plant. Death plant. Bed plant.” We figured it out from “Bed plant” that he meant ‘bed pan.’
Anyway, enough of that. It depresses me to much.. This is boring to you I know, whomever reads this, but mostly this is for me.
Goodnight.
March 14, 2008
“Jenny are you writing this all down?” “No, I’ve got it in my head…” ”YOU NEED to be WRITING this DOWNNNN!!! I do NOT want Ginger to call the nurses station, or talk to any of the doctors. This is MY business. I am the WIFE! She can call and talk to dad, but thats it!” “Well, she’s been talking to Carl…” WHAT?! She is NOT to talk to Bill’s friends. She told you this?! I’m calling Carl right now… Click……. ”She’s lied to you. She only talked to him at the hospital. She never called him…” ”Well, you hung up to fast for me to get a word in, I wasn’t sure if she meant she had been talking to him, or she will call him in the future to find out information.” “Well that’s not what you said. NOw, are you writing this down? There is a lot. MRI….(blah blah blah ) Doctors (blah blah blah) UCLA (blah blah blah) Bill said he doesn’t want to talk to Ginger.” “Really?” “Yes.” ”I can’t imagine him not wanting to talk to her.” ”Hey, Jenny, YOU KNOW WHAT?! I will call you ONCE A WEEK from now on to fill you in, OK?! She is a manipulative bitch, and if you’re going to take sides then fine. I’m taking my shower and I’m going to bed. GOODBYE!”-8:30pm …6:30am- “Jenny….I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that. I’m just an old angry woman. If you want to support her, then fine. You’ve never supported me. Even back in your 8th grade year when Carie Williams wrote, “Your Mom’s a bitch.” in your yearbook. You see this thing through her eyes, then thats fine. I should never have gotten angry at you. From now on, when I call don’t answer it, I will just leave a message for you..” “Mom, if you call I’m going to answer it.” “I don’t want to get angry or upset, so this is the only way. If you’re going to support her, then this is the way it has to be..” “Mom, I’m not ‘supporting’ anyone but Dad. He is the most important thing right now, and excuse my language, but im not interested in any of this petty shit. The only thing I care about right now, is that Dad gets better.” “Well, good. That’s what we all should feel. I will call you later with the results of last nights MRI later today Ok? Ok. I’ve got to go now, I love you. ”I love you too.”
March 13, 2008
My mom called me at work today and just started yelling at me about Aunt Ginger. It was so much, and non-stop I just kinda shut myself off from listening- just had the phone to my ear, but my hand was working away at the computer. I think she was mad about some message my Aunt Ginger had left. My mom said she had purposely had the doctor talking in the background about how the MRI wasn’t signed for yet. My mom thinks Aunt Ginger is trying to make her feel she can’t properly take care of dad, or do the business that has to be done around the hospital efficiently because she is at work all day. My mom said she doesn’t want Aunt Ginger to call the hospital to find out about dad anymore. I told her, “But she is Dad’s sister.” And after that comment, she blew up at me and thought that I was choosing sides or something, I completely wasn’t, I just said it because I felt it. I know now, that I can’t say anything in this matter, and have to stay completely neutral milk hotel because I will get shot down. My mom said that there are only 2 names on the list of people that can call and ask questions, find out stuff etc.: My mom, and Barbara. Barbara is not even a family member. This boggles my mind. I don’t like being in the middle of this and relaying messages back and forth.
It makes me angry that my mom is being so petty and complaining about stuff all the time, and causing fights with family, when the most important thing right now is Dad and his well-being. Also, she’s been telling him all this stuff, and he really doesn’t need to know. All he needs to know is that family is there for him when he needs it; loving him and supporting him.
