He's missing this...

For awhile, Jim would complain that whenever Jon came home from work he seemed to sneak past the shop so Jim wouldn't even know he was home. I thought it was because Jon thought he'd be "stuck" helping Dad with some job. It happens to me when I go out to the shop. :) I don't mind and it's part of being a business partner. Jon's young, he minds. Someday, he'll wish he'd have helped his Dad as much as his Dad helps him. I think that it has started to sink in and shortly before Jon moved to his own house, he wasn't avoiding Dad so much.

I think that they both miss this...

Jon had been working lots of overtime lately, so it was rare for him to get home while it was still daylight.

And Jim happened to be working right outside the shop.

Look at Duke and Sosha hanging around. They're always happy to see Jon too!

They're chatting, mostly Jon is telling Jim about his day. Maybe he's venting. He once told me that it's easier to talk to his Dad about work because it would be like me listening to him speak Japanese. I just don't understand. He's right. And I don't mind at all. Jim doesn't either.

Oops! Jim spotted me taking pictures from our bedroom window. Busted!

On my mind...

I read this article this morning. It's ongoing news in our area, but the details... The details just sicken me. I've been thinking about it all day. This baby. This poor baby should have been loved and cared for....

I blame myself...

My husband's job is physically demanding, even dangerous at times.
I worry constantly that he will be injured, or that something will happen to him while on the job. He's had many close calls. Mostly he will downplay them or not tell me at all.
There was a time, a few years ago, that both my husband and my son were drilling a well together. They came home that evening and, before heading downstairs to shower, my son stops and tells me, "Dad almost got his finger cut off today!" Jim had already headed down without mentioning a word of this to me. Turns out that his wedding band caught on a tooling. He had to cut the band off. It was bent out of shape, into a narrow oval. It scared me and he hasn't worn a wedding band since. Most well drillers don't, on the job. It's too dangerous.

Anyhow, all my worrying for all these years, and who would have thought that a simple slip and fall on the ice would cause such pain for him? He wasn't working, he was helping me. I had gone out to fill my birdfeeders, but had stopped in his woodshop to talk to him and see the progress on a table that he is making for Jon. I haven't been very diligent about filling those feeders this winter and he teased me about it. I teased him back telling him that he had promised to clean my big feeder out but hadn't yet. I'm perfectly capable of cleaning the feeder and he had told me that he would do it back when I was still recovering from pneumonia. Jim being Jim, he stopped what he was doing to go clean the feeder.
I stopped to fill my bucket with birdseed and get some thistle when I heard him yell out. When I looked up, he was just trying to get back up where he had fallen on some ice in our driveway. I ran out to see if he was okay and, of course, he downplayed the whole incident and went about his business, albeit a little more slowly.

He was busy for the next several hours and I could tell he was in some pain, but he assured me that he was fine. In the evening we went to his mother's house for our Sunday evening visit. In the summer, we can go outside and walk or do yardwork there, but in the winter there's not much to do so we usually sit and visit with her. Jim chose to sit in her rocking chair. I knew it was because it was so he would have an easier time getting up. As time went on, I could tell that he was becoming more and more uncomfortable. After about two hours he decided that it was time to head home.
That's when everything went downhill...

When he stood up he started having back spasms. He put on a good show, but I could tell that it was bad. Especially when he stepped down the one step to go out the back door and went down on his knees. Luckily he got back up before his mother would see him. We managed to get home (he drove because he didn't want to walk all the way around the car!) and into the house, but the pain just got worse with each step. I had to help him get ready for bed and, with great difficulty, he managed to get into bed and finally into a position where he might rest a bit. I settled on the sofa so that I wouldn't disturb him. Of course, there was not much sleep for either of us.

Early in the morning, he told me to call the doctor as soon as they were in and make him an appointment, but started thinking that something had to be broken to feel such intense pain. He actually yelled out in pain many times. Something he has never never done. We decided to go straight to the hospital. It took close to an hour to get him out of bed and out to the car. I really wanted to call an ambulance...

Once he was up and walking, although the pain was still intense, it wasn't as bad as it had been. We arrived at the ER and they took him right back. Within an hour his information and vitals were taken, he was taken to x-ray and the doctor came in to tell him that nothing was broken (thankfully). He was badly bruised and the bleeding in the muscle was causing pressure which caused the pain. Prescribed Vicodin and sent us on our way.

When we got home, Jim settled into the living room and willingly took a Vicodin (the man has never taken anything strong than a Motrin in his life). A friend stopped by and stayed for a great deal of the day (he's laid off much of the winter) and Jim's mom stopped to see how he was so by later in the afternoon we were both ready for a nap! Jim fell asleep on the sofa and I took a little nap in bed. When I got up a little bit later, he was still snoozing. I thought for sure he'd be feeling so much better after that, but I was so very wrong about that...

He found that when he sits in anything other than a kitchen or office chair, he has a very painful time getting back up. Yesterday, he actually almost passed out. Scary...

He took another Vicodin before bed last night and seemed to sleep fairly well, but was afraid to move all night. I woke up every time he moved or made a sound and was afraid to move so as not to disturb him. I think he slept better than I did!

We were both sure that he would be feeling minimal pain this morning but, again, we were very wrong. It took 45 minutes for him to get up and go into the bathroom (which is right next to our bedroom). He almost passed out again and decided to stop, sit on the bed and take another pain pill before he attempted any more walking. Finally, once he was up and going he seemed to work the kinks out and the pain evened out. I'm not saying he's feeling 100%, far from it. He has been asking for his pain pill (even before it's time) and he is moving much more slowly. He had a job to work on today, but was lucky enough to have a friend to help.

I tell my long tale of woe because so many things have run through my head over the last two days. First and foremost, I hate to see him in pain. He is a strong man. He never, and I mean never, complains even though his work is so physically demanding and I know he suffers aches and pains. Next, this scared me. It really scared me. To see him so vulnerable is frightening. Even after his hernia repair almost exactly a year ago, he did not suffer like this. To see him suddenly go pale and know that he is close to passing out. To hear him yell out in pain. These are things I (or he, for that matter) have not experienced in the 27 years that I have known him. The "what-if's" really scared me. Plain and simple. Another scare...we own our own business and Jim does all of the physical work. If he were to suffer an injury or illness - that's it - we have nothing coming in. Even if it were job-related, because of the nature of his job we can't even afford disability insurance. I was wondering how I would find a job in our area, in this economy that could pay the bills.

Lastly, I feel guilty. I blame myself. I made one little comment about him not cleaning the birdfeeder. I knew I could do it myself and I should know by now that he would stop what he was doing and go do it. I just should have left him doing what he enjoys best, working in his woodshop, and gone about my business without saying a word. It was such a freak accident and now he is suffering. And the funny thing is that he always offers me his arm because he's afraid that I will fall. Today I went out to help him measure a water level on a well he had drilled. It's been snowing all day and there is some ice under the snow. Walking back to the car, he stopped to offer me his arm to walk over the ice...

Frustrated

I have to see the pulmonologist in about two weeks. I'm figuring that this would wrap things up and I won't have to go back.

When I saw this doctor in December, he told me that I would need another CT scan and breathing test before I saw him again. Okay.

Well, the office was very busy that day and I was handed my order for the CT scan and was told that I would be called when the scan was set up. No one ever called, so I called today to find out if they ever scheduled it.

I received a call back from the very man who was suppposed to schedule the scan. He told me that I had a CT scan scheduled to Dec. 8! I told him that I had that scan that day, that the doctor told me that I needed another scan before I saw him in February, that I have the order right in front of me.

He has to go look at my chart. He was reading it aloud over the phone and actually read that the doctor wanted me to have a CT scan and breathing test before my appointment! He then told me that I was to come to my next appointment where I would have my breathing test and see the doctor. If the doctor thought I needed another scan, he would schedule one then.

First of all, I'm frustrated that he spoke to me as if I didn't have the scan in December (when he read through my chart he told me that the scan results were there).
I'm frustrated that he treats me as if I heard wrong, when what he read was that the doctor wanted me to have a CT scan and I have the order for it!
I'm frustrated that, if the doctor still wants me to have another CT scan, I will have to then see him once again afterwards when this should be my last visit with him!
I'm frustrated that this guy forgot and tries to cover his mistake by blaming it on me!
The only good: if the doctor somehow decides that he doesn't want me to have another CT scan after all, it will save me the money (since our medical insurance deductible starting over again on Jan. 1) that I would have had to pay!

Maybe if I pass my breathing test with flying colors, he will release me from his care!

Now, if I could figure out why my hair is falling out...

Mom

My mom is once again in the hospital. The nursing home called my sister on Friday night to let us know that she was running a fever, had slight breathing difficulties and was confused. Best to send her to the hospital.
There they determined, after bloodwork and x-rays, that she had pneumonia and admitted her. She seemed in good spirits and actually not feeling too badly. The doctor thought that they would keep her till Monday.
On Saturday afternoon, my sister, brother, daughter and I were all in to see her at the same time. She was slightly confused, but not too bad. In good spirits, still. Sunday again, the same.

Yesterday (Monday), she called me and was so totally "out there" that I could not follow her mostly one-sided conversation. I visited her later in the day and she was actually worse. Still not terribly ill feeling, but oh so confused. Most of what she says is amusing and the only way to keep going is to see the humor. That's how my sister and I have dealt with the situation for the past six years. Usually, though, she starts the illness with the confusion and it gets better, not worse.

While I was driving home last night, I was wondering if she (her mind) was going to come back. It is a very difficult realization. We have seen more and more signs of the Alzheimer's advancing, but she is quite often still "with it" enough to hold a real conversation with. Not so, for the last couple of days. The pneumonia that she has is also caused by aspiration which is a common cause of death in the elderly. Two realities that are difficult to face. I thought I had come to terms with the Alzheimer's. I have grieved the mother that she once was. She is no longer that person. But I guess the reality doesn't hit until it is actually there, right in front of me.

I wasn't planning to visit today. My sister and I typically take turns because it is so mentally exhausting. Does that sound selfish? It is sometimes the only way that we can keep our own sanity intact! Mom has called me twice today. She is so far from reality right now and it has not been possible for me to steer her back. Last night she saw a polar bear on a moving church steeple outside her window. Today she is telling me to watch out for the blond cardboard cut-out woman. She looks so real. There are bugs (she doesn't know if they are jello or real) in her room. There's a sparkly gray-haired doll that one of the aides made...I could go on.

My brother once talked about feeling bad for her being so confused sometimes. She doesn't realize that she's confused though. It's her reality. She said to me today, "I'm the only sane one!"

We've been joking about her little quirks and confusion. We communicate through facebook with our family down south so they can know what's going on. Quite often in a funny way, making light of the situation.

It just doesn't feel so funny today...

Where's your seal?

When my son was little, probably around 3 to 4 years old, he seemed to have a unique gift.
He began telling us, "You have a seal around you." When asked what that meant, he described what sounded like an aura. Did he know something that we didn't?
He continued this for a year or more, not much longer than that. Sometimes we had the "seal" and sometimes we didn't. Sometimes he'd see a stranger, in a store or restaurant, and tell us that they had a seal around them.
And then it ended. He saw the seal no more...

I'm a work in progress...

That's what I've decided - I'm a work in progress. This past year or two has brought many changes in my life. This year I will turn 50! The big 5-0! There are things that I want out of life that I don't think that I deserve, therefore I don't strive hard enough for them. I want to change that. There are other things that I have already started working on and it makes me happy! My goal...to be the best me! Quite simple. It seems, doesn't it? Easier said then done.

I must start by saying that I love my children. Even if they are adults, they will always be my children. I hope that I was a good mom to them and that they've had happy childhoods. If they need me, I'm here! But it is time for them to live their adult life. I have had a great adult life. I want them to experience the same. They don't always need (or want :)) me for that!

There are several things that I must do:

• Take better care of me. I can't do the things that I need or want to do if I am not well!
• Make Jim my priority. The kids are adults. They had our undivided attention well into adulthood. They can take care of themselves now. Even if they choose to live here, they are still adults and will be treated as such. Jim has never had my undivided attention. It's his turn now!
• Read. I love to read. I always have. It was one of the many things that took a backseat when my kids were growing up. No more.
• Write. I love to write. I always have. It was one of the many things that took a backseat when my kids were growing up. No more. Funny, huh? Okay, I never thought I had writing talent and it was actually something I love, but never pursued because I didn't think I was any good. I started writing again and I love it and I want to keep doing it.
• Horses. I've always loved horses. Was able to experience the joy of having horses for too short a time in my life. I may never have a horse again, but I can still love them. I think when I gave them up, I felt that I really needed to give up my love of them. Not so!
• Stop procrastinating. It's a big problem...nuff said...
• Live the life that I know God wants me to live. Listen to Him more.
• I know what I need to do. I just need to do it!

I know. Some of my goals seem goofy, especially the horse one. But I get it. It means something to me.

Here's to the year 2010. I hope that on Dec. 31 of this year, I can say that I have become a better me!