It's times like this when I know that Steve doesn't know or understand how I feel, physically or emotionally. I cannot handle being home alone with six dogs. I love my dogs to death, they are an extension of me and they're the only ones who are there for me when I really feel like crap. However, when I feel like crap, I cannot take care of all 6 of them. And not only does Steve HAVE to go deer hunting, he has to go for five days - he's gone for 2 days before the season even opens! What the hell? Friday morning I got up, went to the bathroom and came back to bed to find that Cookie had peed in the bed. And in all her littleness, she didn't miss a thing but the pillows! So I had to strip the bed, carry everything downstairs, wash, dry, and remake the bed. It's time like that, that I really miss my little trailer. Everything was on one floor. Here I can stay on the main floor, but the washer and dryer are still downstairs and I can't carry a full laundry basket upstairs anymore. It's easy to shove stuff DOWN, but it's another matter altogether to get it back UP.
I had a good day today, I really did. Went to Goodwill and found a pair of jeans and then I went to Wal-Mart and got dad some Husker pajama pants and a Husker ball cap (he never wears a ball cap, but he told me today he wanted one...) for his birthday, and a card. Matt was going to bring Hails over today, but but she had a bad case of vomiting at Bagel Bin, so they decided to stay home. I asked Matt if I could stop by there, so I got her a couple sticker books and a color books, and I stopped by there. She was so happy to see me and I was thrilled to see her too! We visited for a little bit - we played with her sticker book and she colored a bit, and then we read some books. She has a harmonica and she was so cute playing with that! She blow a note and then she'd laugh and giggle, play another note, laugh and giggle, I wish I would have had my iPod with me, or my camera that does videos, she was so damn cute! Magann said Hailey was going to be over during the week, so they'd try to stop over. I hope so. It's been a month since I saw her and I can't believe how much she's changed! You could understand her before, but she still talked a lot of baby talk that you kind of had to figure out what was going on... Now she talks and talks and talks, and only rarely is hard to understand. She wanted to call Stephen on the phone, but he wasn't home. She loves to talk to him. We talked about everybody in Stephen's family and how much she loves baby Kaylee... She's growing up SO fast... She told me about her hayrack ride at the pumpkin patch, and the bee on her apple at the orchard. It's hard to believe she's only 2!
Anyway, by the time I got hom I was hurting pretty bad. Like, I actually called Meg to see if she could come feed the dogs bad. She was busy tonight, Jason had a show at Northwest, I think she said, so that was out. Mom was going out to dinner with Sue and Smitty, so that was out. I may or may not have dropped a few F bombs, and took a pain pill and crawled into bed. The dogs just had to wait. They weren't happy, but I just couldn't do it. Tomorrow Mel, Meg, and I are going to Grand Island for dad's birthday, and then, FINALLY, on Monday Steve will be home. I swear to God, this is the LAST freaking year I'm going to stay here by myself. We'll see how I am by Monday. Steve did call tonight - we had a lousy connection (how ironic is that?). Brett got a big buck today, only 3 points, but Steve said it must weight about 250 pounds, bigger than anyone (from their group) has ever gotten. Cool. Wish Steve had gotten a couple so he could just come home. As if...
I went to see Dr. S on Friday. We had a little chat about whether or not this stuff that I've noticed lately is due to MCTD or fibro... He noticed that he hadn't had an ANA or any other rheumatological blood tests done since Dr. Klein had done them last, so we got those. I like Dr. S, I really do, but I felt again like I used to feel when I first got sick. Nothing we can do about the possible esophageal problems because they aren't constant. He can order the tests, but if I'm not having the problem every day, so the tests really wouldn't show anything. sigh... We'll see what the blood work shows. The last ANA was negative, but that was the first negative one in quite some time, so we'll see how things stand now. I'm going to stay on the Savella until the end of December, if I haven't noticed some relief by then, he'll taper me off that. I kind of think to myself that if I'm not getting relief from a fibro drug, doesn't that make sense that maybe it's not fibro pain? He did change my hydrocodone to the 10/325, so I can take 2 at a time if I need to without going over my Tylenol limit for the day. That's some good news I guess. Save a little bit of my liver anyway. Ha ha ha... Small joke. That's about it, I guess, until I get those results. Happy Veteran's Day to all my friends and family who are vets - even if they don't read my rambling... I'm so proud of you and all you did to keep us free.
Showing posts with label fibro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fibro. Show all posts
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Hailey Turned TWO
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
I borrowed this from someone else - but it defines my life too.
I’m not taking credit for this letter, I did not write it, I found it online and sent it to everyone I know to help them understand what I was going through. I wish I knew who did write it, I would love to give them the credit here on my blog! (If anyone knows, please let me know and I’ll be more than happy to post the credit!)
A LETTER FROM FIBROMYALGIA
Dear Miserable Human Being,
Hi, my name is Fibromyalgia, and I’m an invisible chronic illness. I am now ‘velcroed’ to you for life. Others around you can’t see me or hear me, but YOUR body feels me. I can attack you anywhere and anyway I please. I can cause severe pain, or if I am in a good mood, I can just cause you to ache all over.
Remember when you and Energy ran around together and had fun? I took Energy from you and gave you Exhaustion. Just try to have fun now! I also took Good Sleep from you and in its place gave you Fibro Fog (a.k.a.) Brain Fog. I can make you tremble internally or make you feel cold or hot when everyone else feels normal. Oh yeah, I can make you feel anxious or depressed, too. If you have something planned, or are looking forward to a great day, I can take that away too. You didn’t ask for me. I chose you for various reasons: that virus you had that you never quite recovered from, or that car accident, or childbirth, the death of a loved one, or maybe it was those years of abuse and trauma. Well, anyway, I’m here to stay! I hear you’re going to see a doctor who can get rid of me. I’m ‘ROFL’ (rolling on the floor laughing)! Just try! You will have to go to many, many doctors until you find one who can help you effectively. In fact, you’ll see many doctors who tell you ‘it’s all in your head’ (or some version of that). If you do find a doctor willing to treat this ‘non-disease’, you will be put on pain pills, sleeping pills, and energy pills. You will be told you are suffering from anxiety or depression, given a TENS unit, told if you just sleep and exercise properly, I will go away. You’ll be told to think positively, poked, prodded, and most of all, you will not be taken seriously when you cry to the doctor how debilitating life is for you every single day!
Your family, friends, and coworkers will all listen to you until they just get tired of hearing about how I make you feel, and that I’m a debilitating disease. Some of them will say things like “Oh, you’re just having a bad day”, or “Well, remember, you can’t expect to do the things you used to do 20 years ago,” not hearing that you said “20 DAYS ago”! Some will just start talking behind your back, while you slowly feel that you are losing your dignity, trying to make them understand, especially when you are in the middle of a conversation with a ‘normal’ person, and can’t remember what you were going to say next!
In closing, you’ve probably figured out that the ONLY place you will get any real support and understanding in dealing with me is with Other People with Fibromyalgia! They are the only ones that will understand your complaints of unrelenting pain, insomnia, fibro fog, the inability to perform the everyday tasks that ‘normal people’ take for granted.
Remember, I’m stuck to you like Velcro – and I expect we’ll be together for the rest of your life.
Have a nice day!! (ROFL),
10 best things about Fibromyalgia
(from Zazzle.com amazing website of super cool products)
I save money on magazines. With brain fog, I can’t remember what I just read!
I am a cheap date. No alcohol, no dessert and I still feel drunk or hungover.
On ‘good day’s I feel wonderful. Other people need a much better day to feel that way.
I am easy to find…I’m either at the Dr’s office or at home.
I never have to make my bed because I’ll probably be right back in it.
I have acquired a great lounging/sleeping wardbrobe. I rarely get dressed as nobody ever sees me.
Disequilibrium saves money on amusement parks. I get the same sensations every time I stand up!
I feel smarter than my Doctors…all they say is ‘I don’t know’
With short-term memory impairment I can hide my own Easter eggs and Christmas presents.
Before you Judge
By fibrorelief
This is not my own article but one I’ve gotten from FMS Community at
http://www.fmscommunity.org/lettertonormals.htm and felt it should be shared because it’s so true!
There are the things I would like you to understand before you judge me…
Please know that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not human. I may spend most of my day flat on my back and I might not seem like great company, but I’m still me stuck inside this body. I worry about school, work, family and friends and I’d still like to hear about yours.
Please understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy”. When you’ve got the flu you probably feel miserable but it will pass. I’ve been sick for for so long that I can’t afford to be miserable all the time, in fact I work hard at not being miserable. So if I sound happy, it means that I’m happy, it does not mean that I am well. I may be in pain and sicker than ever.
Please, don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!”.
I am not sounding better, I am sounding happy. If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome.
Please understand that being able to stand up for five minutes, doesn’t mean that I can stand ten minutes, or an hour. It’s likely that five minutes has exhausted my resources and I’ll need to recover – imagine an athlete after a race. They couldn’t repeat that feat right away either. With a lot of diseases you’re either paralyzed or you can move, but with Fibromyalgia it gets more confusing.
Please repeat the above paragraph substituting, “sitting up”, “walking”, “thinking”, “being sociable” and so on … it applies to everything. That’s what a fatigue-based illness does to you.
Please understand that chronic illnesses are variable. It’s quite possible (for me, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, and the next I’ll struggle to reach the kitchen.
Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying, “But you did it before!”.
If you want me to do something, ask if I can and I’ll tell you. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel an invitation at the last minute, if this happens please don’t take it personally.
Please understand that “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me worse. Fibromyalgia may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed if you were no longer able to participate in life?) but it is not caused by depression. Telling me that I need exercise is not appreciated or correct – if I could do it, I would.
Please understand that if I say I have to sit down/lie down/take these pills now, that I do have to do it right now – it can’t be put off or forgotten just because I’m doing something. Fibromyalgia does not forgive.
Please understand that I can’t spend all of my energy trying to get well. With a short-term illness like the flu, you can afford to put life on hold for a week or two while you get well. But part of having a chronic illness is coming to the realization that you have to spend some energy on having a life now. This doesn’t mean I’m not trying to get better. It doesn’t mean I’ve given up. It’s just how life is when you’re dealing with a chronic illness.
If you want to suggest a cure, please don’t. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the thought, and it’s not because I don’t want to get well. It’s because every one of my friends has already suggested every theory known to man. I tried them all, but quickly realized I was using up so much energy trying new treatments I was making myself sicker, not better. If there was something that cured Fibromyalgia, all of us would know about it by now.
If you read this and still want to suggest a cure, submit it in writing but don’t expect me to rush out and try it. If it is something new, with merit, I’ll discuss it with my doctor.
Please understand that getting better can be a slow process. Fibromyalgia entails numerous symptoms and it can take a long time to sort them all out.
I depend on you – people who are not sick for many things but most importantly, I need you to understand me.
The above text may be printed freely, and shared as needed providing all content is kept intact. No other person shall ever publish this work citing themselves as the author and give credit to FMS Community and link back to the original site. Thank You.
Sha
A LETTER FROM FIBROMYALGIA
Dear Miserable Human Being,
Hi, my name is Fibromyalgia, and I’m an invisible chronic illness. I am now ‘velcroed’ to you for life. Others around you can’t see me or hear me, but YOUR body feels me. I can attack you anywhere and anyway I please. I can cause severe pain, or if I am in a good mood, I can just cause you to ache all over.
Remember when you and Energy ran around together and had fun? I took Energy from you and gave you Exhaustion. Just try to have fun now! I also took Good Sleep from you and in its place gave you Fibro Fog (a.k.a.) Brain Fog. I can make you tremble internally or make you feel cold or hot when everyone else feels normal. Oh yeah, I can make you feel anxious or depressed, too. If you have something planned, or are looking forward to a great day, I can take that away too. You didn’t ask for me. I chose you for various reasons: that virus you had that you never quite recovered from, or that car accident, or childbirth, the death of a loved one, or maybe it was those years of abuse and trauma. Well, anyway, I’m here to stay! I hear you’re going to see a doctor who can get rid of me. I’m ‘ROFL’ (rolling on the floor laughing)! Just try! You will have to go to many, many doctors until you find one who can help you effectively. In fact, you’ll see many doctors who tell you ‘it’s all in your head’ (or some version of that). If you do find a doctor willing to treat this ‘non-disease’, you will be put on pain pills, sleeping pills, and energy pills. You will be told you are suffering from anxiety or depression, given a TENS unit, told if you just sleep and exercise properly, I will go away. You’ll be told to think positively, poked, prodded, and most of all, you will not be taken seriously when you cry to the doctor how debilitating life is for you every single day!
Your family, friends, and coworkers will all listen to you until they just get tired of hearing about how I make you feel, and that I’m a debilitating disease. Some of them will say things like “Oh, you’re just having a bad day”, or “Well, remember, you can’t expect to do the things you used to do 20 years ago,” not hearing that you said “20 DAYS ago”! Some will just start talking behind your back, while you slowly feel that you are losing your dignity, trying to make them understand, especially when you are in the middle of a conversation with a ‘normal’ person, and can’t remember what you were going to say next!
In closing, you’ve probably figured out that the ONLY place you will get any real support and understanding in dealing with me is with Other People with Fibromyalgia! They are the only ones that will understand your complaints of unrelenting pain, insomnia, fibro fog, the inability to perform the everyday tasks that ‘normal people’ take for granted.
Remember, I’m stuck to you like Velcro – and I expect we’ll be together for the rest of your life.
Have a nice day!! (ROFL),
10 best things about Fibromyalgia
(from Zazzle.com amazing website of super cool products)
I save money on magazines. With brain fog, I can’t remember what I just read!
I am a cheap date. No alcohol, no dessert and I still feel drunk or hungover.
On ‘good day’s I feel wonderful. Other people need a much better day to feel that way.
I am easy to find…I’m either at the Dr’s office or at home.
I never have to make my bed because I’ll probably be right back in it.
I have acquired a great lounging/sleeping wardbrobe. I rarely get dressed as nobody ever sees me.
Disequilibrium saves money on amusement parks. I get the same sensations every time I stand up!
I feel smarter than my Doctors…all they say is ‘I don’t know’
With short-term memory impairment I can hide my own Easter eggs and Christmas presents.
Before you Judge
By fibrorelief
This is not my own article but one I’ve gotten from FMS Community at
http://www.fmscommunity.org/lettertonormals.htm and felt it should be shared because it’s so true!
There are the things I would like you to understand before you judge me…
Please know that being sick doesn’t mean I’m not human. I may spend most of my day flat on my back and I might not seem like great company, but I’m still me stuck inside this body. I worry about school, work, family and friends and I’d still like to hear about yours.
Please understand the difference between “happy” and “healthy”. When you’ve got the flu you probably feel miserable but it will pass. I’ve been sick for for so long that I can’t afford to be miserable all the time, in fact I work hard at not being miserable. So if I sound happy, it means that I’m happy, it does not mean that I am well. I may be in pain and sicker than ever.
Please, don’t say, “Oh, you’re sounding better!”.
I am not sounding better, I am sounding happy. If you want to comment on that, you’re welcome.
Please understand that being able to stand up for five minutes, doesn’t mean that I can stand ten minutes, or an hour. It’s likely that five minutes has exhausted my resources and I’ll need to recover – imagine an athlete after a race. They couldn’t repeat that feat right away either. With a lot of diseases you’re either paralyzed or you can move, but with Fibromyalgia it gets more confusing.
Please repeat the above paragraph substituting, “sitting up”, “walking”, “thinking”, “being sociable” and so on … it applies to everything. That’s what a fatigue-based illness does to you.
Please understand that chronic illnesses are variable. It’s quite possible (for me, it’s common) that one day I am able to walk to the park and back, and the next I’ll struggle to reach the kitchen.
Please don’t attack me when I’m ill by saying, “But you did it before!”.
If you want me to do something, ask if I can and I’ll tell you. In a similar vein, I may need to cancel an invitation at the last minute, if this happens please don’t take it personally.
Please understand that “getting out and doing things” does not make me feel better, and can often make me worse. Fibromyalgia may cause secondary depression (wouldn’t you get depressed if you were no longer able to participate in life?) but it is not caused by depression. Telling me that I need exercise is not appreciated or correct – if I could do it, I would.
Please understand that if I say I have to sit down/lie down/take these pills now, that I do have to do it right now – it can’t be put off or forgotten just because I’m doing something. Fibromyalgia does not forgive.
Please understand that I can’t spend all of my energy trying to get well. With a short-term illness like the flu, you can afford to put life on hold for a week or two while you get well. But part of having a chronic illness is coming to the realization that you have to spend some energy on having a life now. This doesn’t mean I’m not trying to get better. It doesn’t mean I’ve given up. It’s just how life is when you’re dealing with a chronic illness.
If you want to suggest a cure, please don’t. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the thought, and it’s not because I don’t want to get well. It’s because every one of my friends has already suggested every theory known to man. I tried them all, but quickly realized I was using up so much energy trying new treatments I was making myself sicker, not better. If there was something that cured Fibromyalgia, all of us would know about it by now.
If you read this and still want to suggest a cure, submit it in writing but don’t expect me to rush out and try it. If it is something new, with merit, I’ll discuss it with my doctor.
Please understand that getting better can be a slow process. Fibromyalgia entails numerous symptoms and it can take a long time to sort them all out.
I depend on you – people who are not sick for many things but most importantly, I need you to understand me.
The above text may be printed freely, and shared as needed providing all content is kept intact. No other person shall ever publish this work citing themselves as the author and give credit to FMS Community and link back to the original site. Thank You.
Sha
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Bad Night, Maynard
If you had asked me before last night how I felt about this whole thing with my dad, I would have told you it wasn't that big of a deal and I just wanted what was best for dad. Then last night I did't sleep at all. My mind wouldn't shut off. I finally gave up at 4:30 and just got up.
Then, of course, this morning, I feel like absolute dog poop from lack of sleep, then I had an anxiety attack and I feel as if I could burst into tears at any second. Of course I do, because I put makeup on today. I don't know how I can do this. I HATE the fact this is a 2-hour car ride away. I hate the thought of my dad living in some nursing facility. I hate the fact my dad has dementia. I hate, hate, hate this whole frigging mess. Most of all, I hate his damn wife for putting him in this position. What the hell. Or, maybe I hate my mother (even more) for not still being there. I mean, she was better than nothing. Not much, but a little. I hate the fact that she can't be a mother, that I don't have a mother to help shoulder a little bit of this load. I know no one thinks I'm sick, it's pretty obvious from the way everyone acts that I'm just fine and this is a bunch of bullshit that I dreamed up because, oh, I don't know, maybe I just want to sit around all day like a fucking lump and never feel like I'm a human anymore. Maybe it's really FUN to not sleep for 2 nights in the past 9 days because.... Because who the hells KNOWS why I haven't been able to sleep for 2 nights? Is it the fibro Is it the head injury residual? Did somebody slip some placebos in my Ambien? Or maybe Ambien isn't going to help me sleep anymore. I don't even want to think about that possibility.
Remember all those words George Carlin said you couldn't say on TV? Well, I want to say them all right now. That's how I feel. This is messed up and I don't want to do anything, but try to sleep. So, insert the words here and I'll try to concentrate on the fact that in 8 hours (hopefully less), I'll be home again. In my pajamas. Trying to sleep. Again.
Then, of course, this morning, I feel like absolute dog poop from lack of sleep, then I had an anxiety attack and I feel as if I could burst into tears at any second. Of course I do, because I put makeup on today. I don't know how I can do this. I HATE the fact this is a 2-hour car ride away. I hate the thought of my dad living in some nursing facility. I hate the fact my dad has dementia. I hate, hate, hate this whole frigging mess. Most of all, I hate his damn wife for putting him in this position. What the hell. Or, maybe I hate my mother (even more) for not still being there. I mean, she was better than nothing. Not much, but a little. I hate the fact that she can't be a mother, that I don't have a mother to help shoulder a little bit of this load. I know no one thinks I'm sick, it's pretty obvious from the way everyone acts that I'm just fine and this is a bunch of bullshit that I dreamed up because, oh, I don't know, maybe I just want to sit around all day like a fucking lump and never feel like I'm a human anymore. Maybe it's really FUN to not sleep for 2 nights in the past 9 days because.... Because who the hells KNOWS why I haven't been able to sleep for 2 nights? Is it the fibro Is it the head injury residual? Did somebody slip some placebos in my Ambien? Or maybe Ambien isn't going to help me sleep anymore. I don't even want to think about that possibility.
Remember all those words George Carlin said you couldn't say on TV? Well, I want to say them all right now. That's how I feel. This is messed up and I don't want to do anything, but try to sleep. So, insert the words here and I'll try to concentrate on the fact that in 8 hours (hopefully less), I'll be home again. In my pajamas. Trying to sleep. Again.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Friday, or is it Saturday, wait, maybe Thursday?
No, it's really Friday, but I've been thinking all day it's Saturday. I'm so tired and emotionally wrung out I just want to SCREAM!
I got a call from Mel last night about 6:30 or so, dad had drunk some antifreeze and the rescue squad was taking him to Methodist Women's Hospital (since it was closest hospital). So, that was my ticket to the crazy train. I grabbed my purse and headed out. We were pretty sure dad would get an EPC done, especially since this was his second suicide attempt in a little over a year. Oh hell no. Dad tells the cop at the hospital he just drank a little "for attention", he had no intention of hurting himself - I mean, he was a cop before, right? He knew that a little wouldn't really hurt him. (Maybe not, but a very pissed off daughter might...) So, the cop comes out and tells us he's not going to EPC dad. (Sorry, EPC is an emergency commital procedure for mental health.) Dad "volunteered" (my ass) to stay for treatment, but there really wasn't anything anyone else could do. Whatever. Sometimes that "Good Old Boy" network is a little much to take. So, Miss, Mel, and I spend until 10:15 waiting for blood results, etc., to see what, if any damage he had done to himself. When we asked him what he was thinking he said he was "just stupid" and he never really meant to do it. Come on - you walked through the garage, found a dirty cup, complete with cobwebs, poured antifreeze into the cup, walked back over to the chair you had been sitting in and... Ooops, just drank the darn stuff!!! Missy was sitting right there! I don't blame her for this, as soon as she realized what he was doing, she asked him what was in the cup and he told her, "Antifreeze". God give us strength.
By 10:15 they decided he was going to be fine, but they were going to have to transfer him to Methodist Hospital (no vagina, can't stay at the women's hospital), where he would have a couple beers, supposedly the antidote for antifreeze poisoning, and stay the night. Today Mel and I went up to see him and he was chomping at the bit to go home. The internal med doctor had been in and told him he could go home, BUT he still had to see the psychiatrist. (Oh, the officer told us last night that if dad tried to leave the hospital AMA, that we could THEN get an EPC, because... Well, that just doesn't make sense, does it? Who would want to leave a hospital?)
Dad just got crankier and crankier as the day progressed. He was SURE that Mel and I were conspiring to keep him in the hospital - Mwa ha ha.... The psychiatrist FINALLY came in about 2 or so and talked to him alone for about 10 minutes before she decided he was in no shape to go back home. She met with Mel and I and we decided to go for a BOMH (Board of Mental Health) commitment and Dr. T said she would arrange for transport to a mental health facility here in Omaha as soon as a bed was open. Oh, and before that even happened, we were all waiting in his room and dad nodded off. When he woke up, he didn't know where he was, didn't remember being there all night and half the day today, and didn't remember drinking antifreeze or having to go to the ER last night. Woo Wooo... All ABOARD THE CRAZY TRAIN!!!
Before I sound like a total shrew, I love my dad, and this all really breaks my heart. I know he is not competent and I know he has dementia. There are just some days that are so full of CRAP that I can't hardly breathe. And today is one of them.
Mel and I left Methodist because I knew dad would absolutely blow a gasket when he found out what was in the works (and I wasn't wrong). I had just gotten home when Mel called and said the hospital had called her and Heritage Center has a bed for dad, so they were going to be transferring him and we needed to go out there to fill out the paperwork. Terrific. We were supposed to be at Sue and Smitty's at 6 for a birthday party for Alec, Jackie, and Madi. I grabbed my purse, and again, I was off like a speeding blue bullet!
Dad arrived about 4:40, and Mel, Sarah, and I were getting the interview done. i felt really bad when I found out he had to be transported in handcuffs. That's the only thing that has made me cry all weekend. (Take that you people who think I have no heart!) The thought of dad in cuffs just really hurts me, and I know he was probably humiliated beyond belief. I'm so sorry, dad.
When he came in, Mel went down to his room with him. He's in the locked locked unit - as opposed to the regular locked unit, and I'm sure that makes him even madder. He wanted to see us before we left, but when Mel went down to see him he was yelling about how this is bullshit and he's going to run away. Uh huh...
I dont' know what's going to happen. The woman (Polly?) at HC told us we wouldn't need the BOMH hearing because we were dad's powers of attorney, but they won't keep him on a long-term basis, so I just don't know. He can't come home, he just can't. He's been threatening to kill himself ever since last year, this time he just acted on it. What next? This is not something Adam and Sarah need to be around 24/7. Dad has no money for a nursing home and we sure as heck don't have the money. Our meeting with the admission board isn't even until the 28th of July... Holy buckets. Mel says she hasn't heard anything from his caseworker about the Medicaid. I think maybe she did, but it just got lost in the shuffle. I hope we don't have to reapply, but I bet we will.
I finally left the hospital at 6:20 and got to Sue and Smitty's in time to have dinner and see Hailey and Emma playing together. I loved it! They are so cute together, it's too bad that Emma lives in Tennessee! One of the worst, crappiest days turned into a great day by seeing Hailey smile! She kept coming over to me and giving me loves. She means the world and more to me. It was good to see Magann too, she's been working like a crazy woman - 85 hours last week alone! Holy sandman, Batman!
When I got home tonight, absolutely exhausted I realized that Steve had not done one single solitary thing since I left last night. The dishes were piled up in the sink, the laundry still needed to be put away, everything was just like I left it last night at 6:30. Oh, and he only had to work 1/2 day today... He had stayed at Sue and Smitty's when I left because I was so tired. After he came home and just before I got into bed to write my book for the night, I walked into our bathroom and was met by a huge puddle of water. The magazine that he left open on the floor (after using the bathroom this morning) was entirely soaked, the towel on the floor was soaked, and there was s small river leading into the other room. When I called him to the bottom of the stairs and asked him what happened he said one of the dog's beds got into their water bowl and he hung it up on the shower door to dry... Of course, it seeped to the lowest end of the blanket and ran down the shower door onto the floor. I told him about the mess and he said, "Wow, really?" and went back into the other room to watch TV. Oh yeah, he understands fibromyalgia all right. He knows what a hard couple days I've had and he's SO, SO willing to help.
Just between you and me, I don't care if those damn dishes ever get washed...
M
I got a call from Mel last night about 6:30 or so, dad had drunk some antifreeze and the rescue squad was taking him to Methodist Women's Hospital (since it was closest hospital). So, that was my ticket to the crazy train. I grabbed my purse and headed out. We were pretty sure dad would get an EPC done, especially since this was his second suicide attempt in a little over a year. Oh hell no. Dad tells the cop at the hospital he just drank a little "for attention", he had no intention of hurting himself - I mean, he was a cop before, right? He knew that a little wouldn't really hurt him. (Maybe not, but a very pissed off daughter might...) So, the cop comes out and tells us he's not going to EPC dad. (Sorry, EPC is an emergency commital procedure for mental health.) Dad "volunteered" (my ass) to stay for treatment, but there really wasn't anything anyone else could do. Whatever. Sometimes that "Good Old Boy" network is a little much to take. So, Miss, Mel, and I spend until 10:15 waiting for blood results, etc., to see what, if any damage he had done to himself. When we asked him what he was thinking he said he was "just stupid" and he never really meant to do it. Come on - you walked through the garage, found a dirty cup, complete with cobwebs, poured antifreeze into the cup, walked back over to the chair you had been sitting in and... Ooops, just drank the darn stuff!!! Missy was sitting right there! I don't blame her for this, as soon as she realized what he was doing, she asked him what was in the cup and he told her, "Antifreeze". God give us strength.
By 10:15 they decided he was going to be fine, but they were going to have to transfer him to Methodist Hospital (no vagina, can't stay at the women's hospital), where he would have a couple beers, supposedly the antidote for antifreeze poisoning, and stay the night. Today Mel and I went up to see him and he was chomping at the bit to go home. The internal med doctor had been in and told him he could go home, BUT he still had to see the psychiatrist. (Oh, the officer told us last night that if dad tried to leave the hospital AMA, that we could THEN get an EPC, because... Well, that just doesn't make sense, does it? Who would want to leave a hospital?)
Dad just got crankier and crankier as the day progressed. He was SURE that Mel and I were conspiring to keep him in the hospital - Mwa ha ha.... The psychiatrist FINALLY came in about 2 or so and talked to him alone for about 10 minutes before she decided he was in no shape to go back home. She met with Mel and I and we decided to go for a BOMH (Board of Mental Health) commitment and Dr. T said she would arrange for transport to a mental health facility here in Omaha as soon as a bed was open. Oh, and before that even happened, we were all waiting in his room and dad nodded off. When he woke up, he didn't know where he was, didn't remember being there all night and half the day today, and didn't remember drinking antifreeze or having to go to the ER last night. Woo Wooo... All ABOARD THE CRAZY TRAIN!!!
Before I sound like a total shrew, I love my dad, and this all really breaks my heart. I know he is not competent and I know he has dementia. There are just some days that are so full of CRAP that I can't hardly breathe. And today is one of them.
Mel and I left Methodist because I knew dad would absolutely blow a gasket when he found out what was in the works (and I wasn't wrong). I had just gotten home when Mel called and said the hospital had called her and Heritage Center has a bed for dad, so they were going to be transferring him and we needed to go out there to fill out the paperwork. Terrific. We were supposed to be at Sue and Smitty's at 6 for a birthday party for Alec, Jackie, and Madi. I grabbed my purse, and again, I was off like a speeding blue bullet!
Dad arrived about 4:40, and Mel, Sarah, and I were getting the interview done. i felt really bad when I found out he had to be transported in handcuffs. That's the only thing that has made me cry all weekend. (Take that you people who think I have no heart!) The thought of dad in cuffs just really hurts me, and I know he was probably humiliated beyond belief. I'm so sorry, dad.
When he came in, Mel went down to his room with him. He's in the locked locked unit - as opposed to the regular locked unit, and I'm sure that makes him even madder. He wanted to see us before we left, but when Mel went down to see him he was yelling about how this is bullshit and he's going to run away. Uh huh...
I dont' know what's going to happen. The woman (Polly?) at HC told us we wouldn't need the BOMH hearing because we were dad's powers of attorney, but they won't keep him on a long-term basis, so I just don't know. He can't come home, he just can't. He's been threatening to kill himself ever since last year, this time he just acted on it. What next? This is not something Adam and Sarah need to be around 24/7. Dad has no money for a nursing home and we sure as heck don't have the money. Our meeting with the admission board isn't even until the 28th of July... Holy buckets. Mel says she hasn't heard anything from his caseworker about the Medicaid. I think maybe she did, but it just got lost in the shuffle. I hope we don't have to reapply, but I bet we will.
I finally left the hospital at 6:20 and got to Sue and Smitty's in time to have dinner and see Hailey and Emma playing together. I loved it! They are so cute together, it's too bad that Emma lives in Tennessee! One of the worst, crappiest days turned into a great day by seeing Hailey smile! She kept coming over to me and giving me loves. She means the world and more to me. It was good to see Magann too, she's been working like a crazy woman - 85 hours last week alone! Holy sandman, Batman!
When I got home tonight, absolutely exhausted I realized that Steve had not done one single solitary thing since I left last night. The dishes were piled up in the sink, the laundry still needed to be put away, everything was just like I left it last night at 6:30. Oh, and he only had to work 1/2 day today... He had stayed at Sue and Smitty's when I left because I was so tired. After he came home and just before I got into bed to write my book for the night, I walked into our bathroom and was met by a huge puddle of water. The magazine that he left open on the floor (after using the bathroom this morning) was entirely soaked, the towel on the floor was soaked, and there was s small river leading into the other room. When I called him to the bottom of the stairs and asked him what happened he said one of the dog's beds got into their water bowl and he hung it up on the shower door to dry... Of course, it seeped to the lowest end of the blanket and ran down the shower door onto the floor. I told him about the mess and he said, "Wow, really?" and went back into the other room to watch TV. Oh yeah, he understands fibromyalgia all right. He knows what a hard couple days I've had and he's SO, SO willing to help.
Just between you and me, I don't care if those damn dishes ever get washed...
M
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The 5th of July
We had a good day yesterday - I think it was a relatively good weekend, actually. Some things actually got done in the house, like shampooing my craft room - woo hoo! The kitchen may or may not have gotten cleaner, but it certainly got decluttered. Now,if I could just twitch my nose and have the rest of the house cleaned and decluttered, I'd be really happy. I guess my name isn't Samantha for a reason.
Yesterday Mom and Bob came over for dinner. It was kind of funny, I originally wanted to try to have Matt and Magann and Meg and Jason over, but nobody's schedule meshed, so Steve and I thought about just cooking hot dogs and making some frog eye salad. We decided to call mom and Bob since I wasn't sure what their plans were, and when I told mom we were cooking out, she immediately gushed, "Steaks? Those steaks you made last time? If you get them I'll even pay for them!" Well, the hot dogs went out the window at that point! I had to laugh when I went to the grocery store though, Hy-Vee has bacon-wrapped sirloin filet at $5 each, but they were on SALE at the amazingly low price of.... $4.99!!! What a bargain! I saved 4 cents! Doesn't matter though, they are goooooood steaks, so I would have paid full price. Ha ha ha...
Steve made his infamous frog eye salad yesterday morning, we had some baked potatoes and mom brought a coconut cream pie from Village Inn for dessert. Oh my gosh, I was stuffed - what a great meal! After dinner we watched Green Hornet (some of us for the second and third times...) and just relaxed while dinner settled, and they left about 8:30.
Our plan was to go watch the fireworks from The Champions Club at 10, so around 9:15 we took off, loaded with insect repellent, a blanket, and several sodas. We found a great place just east of the golf course on a little frontage road, which was just perfect. I've been trying the Off insect and mosquito fan, that you just hook to your belt or clothing and it's supposed to keep the skeeters at bay. It seemed to work pretty good last night. I got a few bites on my legs, but not too bad. Steve used the spray on stuff and got more bites than I did, so I think the fan is the way to go. It was a nice night, not to bad for July, although it was pretty humid. Most of the time I thought bugs were on me, it was sweat rolling down my neck - ick, but it could have been a lot worse. We were both thinking of Hailey last night; last year we took her to the fireworks. I was kinda glad to be taking her to her first fireworks display - at the tender age of 10 months! She did great until the fireworks started - when she fell asleep! She even slept through the grand finale and when we got home I changed her into jammies without waking her up and she slept all night. So much for Nana and Papa taking her to her first fireworks. I hope she had a good time this weekend and didn't get too scared by all the loud booms.
I was tired when we got home, but couldn't sleep. At 2:30 I was still tossing and turning, and the next thing I know I realized Ben was whining to go outside. Because of all the neighborhood fireworks, only Cookie would go out before bed last night, not because she's brave or anything, she's stone-cold deaf! The fireworks didn't boether her at all. So, I got up at 5:24 to let the dogs out, first Ben, then Ruger, then Heidi... Thankfully they all came back in together! I barely had a chance to get back to bed before Steve's alarm went off. I dozed while he took a shower, and now here I am again, wide awake at 8:20. Need I add I'm feeling pretty ugly this morning. My hands are on fire (can we say "flare"), and I just can't find a comfortable position. Very, very achy. I'm trying to decide if it's because I got in the way of all Steve's mosquito repellent last night, the Fosomax I took yesterday, or because the weather is supposed to be stormy today. Whatever it is, I don't feel too great.
As for my other addiction of late, the jury in the Casey Anthony trial got the case for deliberation yesterday. Now I'm just watching and waiting to see what they decide. It really would be a hard case to decide - especially if you hadn't seen what a skank she's been while the trial has been going on and seeing things the jury didn't see. I hope they make the right decision and that little girl's soul can finally have some piece.
Now that the 4th is over, I'm looking ahead to going to Scottsbluff later this month for dad's VA admission hearing. I'm sure hoping I don't end up going alone! Wish me luck with that one will ya?
Later...
Yesterday Mom and Bob came over for dinner. It was kind of funny, I originally wanted to try to have Matt and Magann and Meg and Jason over, but nobody's schedule meshed, so Steve and I thought about just cooking hot dogs and making some frog eye salad. We decided to call mom and Bob since I wasn't sure what their plans were, and when I told mom we were cooking out, she immediately gushed, "Steaks? Those steaks you made last time? If you get them I'll even pay for them!" Well, the hot dogs went out the window at that point! I had to laugh when I went to the grocery store though, Hy-Vee has bacon-wrapped sirloin filet at $5 each, but they were on SALE at the amazingly low price of.... $4.99!!! What a bargain! I saved 4 cents! Doesn't matter though, they are goooooood steaks, so I would have paid full price. Ha ha ha...
Steve made his infamous frog eye salad yesterday morning, we had some baked potatoes and mom brought a coconut cream pie from Village Inn for dessert. Oh my gosh, I was stuffed - what a great meal! After dinner we watched Green Hornet (some of us for the second and third times...) and just relaxed while dinner settled, and they left about 8:30.
Our plan was to go watch the fireworks from The Champions Club at 10, so around 9:15 we took off, loaded with insect repellent, a blanket, and several sodas. We found a great place just east of the golf course on a little frontage road, which was just perfect. I've been trying the Off insect and mosquito fan, that you just hook to your belt or clothing and it's supposed to keep the skeeters at bay. It seemed to work pretty good last night. I got a few bites on my legs, but not too bad. Steve used the spray on stuff and got more bites than I did, so I think the fan is the way to go. It was a nice night, not to bad for July, although it was pretty humid. Most of the time I thought bugs were on me, it was sweat rolling down my neck - ick, but it could have been a lot worse. We were both thinking of Hailey last night; last year we took her to the fireworks. I was kinda glad to be taking her to her first fireworks display - at the tender age of 10 months! She did great until the fireworks started - when she fell asleep! She even slept through the grand finale and when we got home I changed her into jammies without waking her up and she slept all night. So much for Nana and Papa taking her to her first fireworks. I hope she had a good time this weekend and didn't get too scared by all the loud booms.
I was tired when we got home, but couldn't sleep. At 2:30 I was still tossing and turning, and the next thing I know I realized Ben was whining to go outside. Because of all the neighborhood fireworks, only Cookie would go out before bed last night, not because she's brave or anything, she's stone-cold deaf! The fireworks didn't boether her at all. So, I got up at 5:24 to let the dogs out, first Ben, then Ruger, then Heidi... Thankfully they all came back in together! I barely had a chance to get back to bed before Steve's alarm went off. I dozed while he took a shower, and now here I am again, wide awake at 8:20. Need I add I'm feeling pretty ugly this morning. My hands are on fire (can we say "flare"), and I just can't find a comfortable position. Very, very achy. I'm trying to decide if it's because I got in the way of all Steve's mosquito repellent last night, the Fosomax I took yesterday, or because the weather is supposed to be stormy today. Whatever it is, I don't feel too great.
As for my other addiction of late, the jury in the Casey Anthony trial got the case for deliberation yesterday. Now I'm just watching and waiting to see what they decide. It really would be a hard case to decide - especially if you hadn't seen what a skank she's been while the trial has been going on and seeing things the jury didn't see. I hope they make the right decision and that little girl's soul can finally have some piece.
Now that the 4th is over, I'm looking ahead to going to Scottsbluff later this month for dad's VA admission hearing. I'm sure hoping I don't end up going alone! Wish me luck with that one will ya?
Later...
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