Toughing it out

I have a cold. I hate colds. They make me grumpy and extra opionionated. I have been sharing my opinions freely lately. Honesty is fine in theory. But in practice it definitely depends. My mom does not believe in honesty when it comes to how she feels, -sort of. She has always believed that if you deny the pain your denials will start to be true. She taught me that a "fake" smile" soon becomes real -and she was mostly right. It just isn't the whole truth because sometimes when you don't take care of the immediate little pain it grows in to one you can not ignore (but enough about child rearing ....ba da dum). She has hit that unable to ignore it point more and more of late. And then not only is the pain overwhelming but also her sense of shame because a strong enough person would ignore it. She never would have punished us for being complainers, she wasn't really unsympathetis to pain BUT it was always quite clear where virtue lay. The tough women in our family got up and kept going, taught themselves to walk again after polio, never cried when they cut their fingers off (well, only two and only the ends). That sort of thing. Some how my children all pride themselves on not crying (well not the 4 year old -he's pretty impressed at his own tears) and I'd swear it's not my doing. I got the guilt over the tears but I also got the tears (I'm thinking from my father's side). Even my sweet other half is a weeper (the tears flowed during the first 10 minutes of UP).

So what is my point? I honestly, honestly don't know. Maybe there is a difference betwen the truth and honesty. I can't see the answer -even with that supposedly 20/20 hindsight (stupid, stupid saying). We just have to rely on that stuff that covers a multitude of sins.

Caleb did get over his headache. The daughter on the ski trip naturally got snowed in and several father later driving all over the state she is home. Mom, obviouly has not gotten over her aches. Another MRI was schedlued for today but it turned out that getting a 91 year old out of the house at 6:30am, in the dark, and the cold, down a narrow icey path in the foot plus snow when she was totally miserable was beyond us. The next available appointment is a ful week from now. For the first time in many years we will not be having Christmas at her house because the trip would just be too much and there is not a good place for her to sleep on the first floor there. We will all be here. Complicated family politics ensue...

The picture is Jesse after playing in the snow -the actual snow picture wouldn't download for some reason. So here he is teaching his dad "Kor-rah tay". Where he got it we don't know.

Cooking tip -hey I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies using all this extra sugar stuff from a batch of caramel corm someone gave us in them (replacing not in addition to the called for sugar). Worked. Frugal, that's me.

Next blog, "Why doctors can't even spell team."

3, no 4, 5 ring circus?

This is escapist blogging. Jesse is listening to "Twas the night before Christmas" (talking bear, 75% off at CVS after some long ago holidays), mom is tucked up in a quilt watching the news, Caleb is sleeping under a comforter -on the upstairs hall floor because it is 10AM and he just had a grand mal seizure- while he was trying to watch Jesse for me -so I could put the finishing touches on a final exam so the students who misread the schedule and already bought their plane tickets could take it early -and before Jesse was due at the pediatrician for another shot so he can stay in preschool -and right after the college girl (ours that is) called looking for her Dad ("I need to talk to Dad," tends to send chills up my spine) -and now Jesse is crying on my lap explaining his orange peeling injury (I'll ignore the part about trying with a knife since there is no blood), and I am pretty sure I have completely lost control of this sentence.

Grand mal by the way means (pardon my French) "big bad" -rough but accurate translation. Caleb's big bad seizures last several minutes and he twists and doubles while I keep my hand on his back and pray nothing breaks. He always knows they are coming so he came out of his little brother's room to where he could lie down and call me (shout out). I called the department secretary (not 911) to be sure the exam had made it and apologize that it still needed a header while he was seizing. Jesse wanted to be with us. That was tricky -I have not attempted to explain seizures to him and usually some one else can keep him occupied. I did finally convince him to go "check on Grandma" -unfortunately she was in the bathroom so then I sat with Caleb listening to Jesse pound on the bathroom door shouting, "Open the doe-oar Gan-ma. I haf to check on you. Are you OK?"

At some point then between rescheduling appointments, and checking on the college girl (budget crisis), I was crying and hugging my mom and insisting she was not a burden as she claimed. -And then I feel those 4 year old arms come around me telling me not to cry and as he assured me, "You are not a burden, moomy, you are not a burden."

We did go to Bermuda. And this was just the day we got there. It is such along way from where we live. It just doesn't take that long to get there. And we waved at the Queen (Elizabeth II, of England, of course). She had a big dark pink hat to match her dress and I have just spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to post just one still from the video I have so you could see the big (dark) pink blur of her going by. We were only about 15 feet away and I had had some rum swizzle and I squealed alot so Elizabeth (II) was probably glad they kept going. It is embarassing how giddy I was, especially since I really thought I didn't care and was above that sort of thing. But on the other hand she's not just some celebrity. She's a woman with a mildly dysfunctional family and really odd taste in hats and I was sorry when I realized that because of my sunglasses we really didn't make actual eye contact.

So that's my funny story from our escape (other than the one about Bernie "laying down" the moped after we saw the Queen and my putting a product called "Afterbite" on the abrasion thinking it was antiseptic rather than the amonia it is). As the picture shows it was very escapist. An amazing little (little) bit of heaven for 3 unexpectedly dry and sunny days.

We came back from that little (little) bit of heaven to find the virus (I'd like to think it was swine flu) had incubated in myself and Caleb and was now ready to be seen and heard. Mine when onto my- is there a word for sinuses that doesn't sound so dweeby?, Caleb's to his lungs but not quite pneumonia so antibiotics all around (and some for my dear one's abrasions). In fact the dear one had to take my mom in for various scans as I was still hacking. And the scans showed another spinal break and therefore meant more doctor's to be seen and they tried putting cement around the break (I assume it is better than the stuff we used for the walk way pavers) and for a brief shining moment she wasn't an old lady -well not very old, certainly NOT 91. It seemed like she was one of the ones the doctor said have immediate relief and she didn't need the brace thing anymore (no more 3am calls to help her in and out of it!) and even her vision was better. Honestly she was reading street signs on the way home that several other members of my family could not read (and two of them are drivers), and sitting up straighter than I have seen for months and happy. And then we got home and she walked in and all the old pain came back. And she has shrunk up again and lif is gray and closing in on her. And if I just thought she was all worn out it wouldn't be so bad but I saw that few hours with no pain so I know who her enemy is. No, that's not it -I am just seeing another tool he has. As Christians we are supposed to be all about victory. That is the substance of things hoped for here.

Oh, and the graduate students I teach are complaining that I make them take notes and don't post everything in Powerpoint. They aren't all complaining (I'm pretty sure) but a few vocal ones did so to someone in the department and as I am as low on the totem pole as one can possibly be and happy students who will bring their friends along are preferred I have heard all about it. I know I can improve (please) in lecturing. And if not for the hotflashes during lectures or some family member admitted to a hospital right before class, or the four yr old so darned cute I hate to leave him, I'd be better focused -never the less, I like chalkboards and I am pretty convinced they are a brilliant learning tool. But grrrrr.... I will not rant about todays students, I will not rant, I will not rant. Well maybe later.

Thus no time even for self-indulgent blogging the last three weeks.

Cooking tip (your reward if you got this far): Amazing "guacamole" we had at a community event and have reconstructed it at home -it's easy and I swear this combination works. 1 mashed avocado, chopped mango -(canned Food Lion brand worked fine), and (here's they oh wow part) pomegranate seeds- enough of the fruits so that any spoonful has a few seeds with a little more mango, -then sprinkle in some salt, and a little lemon. Worked as a side with swordfish (which was not canned or from Food Lion). Also looks very spiffy.

(the best) Pumpkin (or any other) muffin recipe

Last year for our 25th anniversary we went to Bermuda. And in less than 2 days we are going back because, well, we just are. I have alot of excuses for why we definitely needed a break but none for why we had to go to Bermuda -but isn't that itself proof positive of our complete (almost) nervous breakdown? If we hadn't lost our minds to all the stress we would have done something much more sensible. To make up for my lack of sense I offer you the best muffin recipe EVER. It just happens to have pumpkin in it. The original recipe come home from Nathanael's preschool (by Jesse's entrance only the name is unchanged).

Pumpkin Muffins

1 cup white flour

1/2 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 scant cup sugar

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon (now why not call this ground?)

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/4 tsp ground cloves

Mix all the above ingredients

In a larger bowl* beat the following together

1 egg

1/2 cup milk

2/3 cup cooked pumpkin**

1/4 cup melted margerine (one of the few times I don't prefer butter)

Mix in the dry ingredients

add (don't over mix now)

1/2 cup white raisins (picky but worth it, and my non raisin eaters weren't offended)

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Bake in greased muffin pan at 400 degrees 20-25 minutes

-must be in conventional oven because with convection I start peaking before 15 minutes and the tops split -they smell done - they look done. The toothpick test works but why bother?

* that way one bowl has only had the dry stuff in it and will clean (wipe out) easily.

** And I mean you cooked it, or maybe a neighbor. Look my life is crazy but I still do this every year. Split your pumpkins, scoop out the seeds and strings, add a little water and put the tops back on. At 350 degrees after ~90 minutes the flesh will sccop right out and the water keeps the edges tender. Freeze the excess and start making muffins. You'll never go back to canned. It makes a nice break from grading papers.

So that's it for awhile. I sincerely hope the getting a break idea actually works and we come home happy to be here again. I've told the kids to only call in case of emergencies defined as involving police and/or hospitals. And under no circumstances are they to have any emergencies without us - or seizures, or fevers, or ANYTHING!

A little vent

My mom saw the neurosurgeon yesterday. He was upset because the brace had never been adjusted (cut down in the front where it has been bothering mom so) as he'd ordered and no one had shown us how to put it on properly and he has ordered 2 more MRIs and 2 CT scans and... It's really not bad , it's funny mostly. Jesse went and got mom a towel when she felt sick today to throw-up in and periodically has asked her all day , "Are you going to throw-up now Gwandma?" He seems pretty dissappointed that she hasn't yet. CAleb spends alot of time with him and he loves to tel CAleb, "You are wat-ching me." (translated, "you are my slave and must play any game I choose." And Caleb got his H1N1 shot today and Jesse the nasal spray (I like variety). Whatever was causing the fever he had earlier this week was over fast -he is a healthy little guy. I'm not complaining -really. I'm just whining. Because as wonderful as it is to have the priviledge of a 4 year old, a 91 year old and a wonderful young man who faces his physical disabilities (and last night's seizure) so patiently under my roof all at once, and a lovely roof it is, I am distracted and pulled to the point of incoherency even when it is incoherent joy.

Recipe correction and lists

My Christmas cactus should be renamed "not-even-the-holidays- yet" cactus and this picture is 2 weeks old so it is in full glory as I type. I've tried many times to capture that glory with the 'macro' feature on several digital cameras but somehow the cactus defeats the automatic sensors everytime. They just can't take the reality of it's crazy colors. Me too.

I realized several days after my last post that I had forgotten the spices -funny for someone making a point of seasoning. I am going back and adding them but it was the pumpkin pie hints that made this bread special -it hits your olfactory nerves as all Thanksgiving-y and then settles down to just a nice bread. And actually it goes with any wine (according to Jenni).

I am posting today because I put it on my list. If it is not on my list it is not... something on my list, and how can I know if it isn't on my list when all I know is whatever the list tells me. There may be be more I had to say...

Jesse may have THE flu, Mom may have 4 more months with the brace and has had 6 weeks of wearing her back brace the wrong way, Caleb may have THE flu shot as he has a higher risk category for serious flu sequelae, the local police may have just been harrassing the middle son with the threat to tow his car parked in front of his own house because it is a cul de sac, the dispatcher may have thought it was not terrifying to call us with, "Are you the owner of...? Hold while I connect the officer," I may have THE nervous breakdown NOW.

Pumpkin recipes, brothers and doors

Proof I am a little different (in case you hadn't noticed. Here my eldest and youngest improve the front door. This is helpful -it gives visitors an immediate idea of what they are in for. Also a 20 year age gap doesn't matter when you have really colrful chalk and a whole blank door.

On the "caregiver" front nothing too new (other than laundry -which is new every morning -fortunately so are God's mercies).

So let's get right to the pumpkin recipes. The bread is a new idea (for me), I don't like the pumpkin bread that's like banana bread and all of those other fruity breads that are really more cake than bread, but too heavy to avoi giving cake a bad name. This is a bread with an almost delicate flavor, at first pumpkiny and then just very bread like and with just a hint of the honey,

Pumkin yeast bread:

Heat ~2 cups cooked pumpkin (should be hot but not scalding)

~ 1/4 cup water if the pumpkin is very thick (I don't use canned pumpkin but it should work)

~4 tbsp honey (here honey makes a difference, molasses might do but straight sugar won't)

2 packets yeast or equivalent if you use some bulk form

1 tsp salt

1 egg

~1tsp cinnamon, ~1/2 tsp ginger, ~1/4 tsp nutmeg (or a little less)

Mix well

Add flour until the dough pulls away from the bowl sides but is not too sticky

Let rise twice and then shape loaves and rise again. I noticed this dough was pretty slow to rise.

Bake at ~400 degrees F. The color of the bread was a little yellowy and the crust needed to get pretty tan to be done. It is to be honest not the greatest color but even non pumpkin fans liked the taste. Great with a sharp cheddar, or just butter and a good red wine (really, try it) or ginger ale if you prefer. Toasted for breakfast the next day with coffee seemed good -if you like coffee.

OK -pumpkin muffins next time. Breakfast time here.

alarms and a casserole

This is Jesse trying to get at me while I was working on my dissertation a few years back now -but it seems like days ago. Maybe because I escape no more easily now. Night before last I was dreaming that I turned to write something on the board and turned back and all but three students had left the class and then I heard this distant sound and I realized it was my mom crying out in pain -so I lept up and grabbed Bernie shouting we were coming (not a dream now). And he ran ahead of me and found mom awake but fine (I give him a head start so I don't have to find the body) so then I checked Jesse -awake but probably from our yelling. So it was ALL a dream -it was probably one of my students yelling in pain. Naturally Jesse soon joined us in bed so after a bit of that I went to his bed and was awakened to the actual non dream cry of, "Mommy, I peed in your bed."

I won't even go into the episode later in the day when I heard mom yell (feebly), "help, help" when I knew she had been taking a shower and I hadn't gone back to check her. After I finished searching the bathroom for her (did I think if she fell I might not see her behind the glass door to the not so big shower?) I found her in bed joking with the bank because she couldn't read her account number ("help, help" indeed). I cried for 1/2 an hour.

So the casserole. les than 10 minute prep (with fast chopping)

• About 1/2 to 3/4 inch of rice in the bottom of a deep dish casserole with cover.
• Enough water and white wine to just cover the rice
• A layer of sliced eggplant sprinkled with olive oil, chopped garlic, pitted calamata olives
• A layer of boneless, skinlees chicken thighs
• A layer of canned tomatoes -diced was all I had, stewed might have been better
• A thinner layer of finely chopped zuchini sprinkled with olive oil (again!) , dried rosemary and salt (actually I used sea salt but that sounds so snobby)
• BAKE at 350, covered for 1 and 1/4 hours
• uncover and put on shredded swiss and some grated whatever that grating cheese was I had
• Put under broiler until brown (or at least before more that the edges are black)
• Serve and grate on more parmesan (this step I'm sure what it was)

Practically Perfect. Worked with a dry pinot grigio if you want to be really snobby

Another cat gone and cooking with wine

Did I continue the deceased cat update? Because if not here is one who has departed only recently. One of 3 cats at my mom's, she was found several weeks back by the neighbors feeding the cats in a departed condition. She was not my favorite cat. This picture really captures her personality in my opinion but she was nice to my mom -as long as my mom stayed put in bed and gave her a place to sleep (on top of her). Bernie tried to bring the other two back here but the cuts are healing nicely now and the neighbors have agreed to keep feeding them.

Now, as for the wine in cooking. I heard some tv chef say you should never use a wine you don't like in cooking -and this is nonsense. That is exactly what you should do with a wine you don't like* -cook with it. But alot recipes suggest replacing wine with vinegar if you have no wine and I don't drink vinegar. Also what else do you do with wine you don't like (or you did two days ago, but left it open)?. On the other handed really corked wine is no better than vinegar, possibly worse, so that goes down the drain in any case. Meanwhile there's not much that isn't helped along by some wine. Especially soup, but it takes alot of wine and there's no point in using some subtle reserve/vintage stuff when it will be boiled and fried and roasted and grilled away- yet for all that torture it still adds something good. I keep boxed wines on hand for all chicken soup (white) and spaghetti sauces (red -if anyone is watching).

So today's recipe is radish top soup (thanks to the lady running the local (and I do mean local)farmer's market for the basic approach):
Get some radishes with the leafy stuff still attached
Remove radishes and stems
Saute the greens in butter and some onion
When everything is at least softened run through the food processor of choice
Add some potato if you have a leftover one handy (I never bake the right number) -skinned and cooked
Return to pan (if you took it out for the "processing" (i.e. grinding, shredding etc))
Simmer with more butter and add white wine now and some water to a creamy but thick consistency
Add chicken boullion (2 cubes for a small pan)
Simmer for a while
When almost ready to serve blend in some milk and or half and half.
Serve with freshly ground white pepper -this may sound like one of those fussy steps but it makes an enormous difference. The final product tates almost oyster-y -but in a good way.
Final step -feel virtuous for not wasting any (well not much) of that radish plant.


* there are exceptions to this like everything else in life, say poached pears.

Changing colors

Another old picture but nothing has changed much except now I also turn red. It starts on my neck and comes up my face in angry splotches with the heat and anxiousness. It can be for no particular reason but anxiety definitely helps get things going. And the angry woman in my class, her face is reddish too as she mutters or complains whenever there is something she doesn't like. Clearly she has decided it is the time in life to be assertive so she shares her frustration with the material loudly and seems sure that if I just gave her a better example all would be clear. When I pointed out the assigned reading had some good examples she said, "no", she had read it and there were only a few and they weren't helpful. So at least I know it is not just me. And where she demands are the last assignments? They aren't returned yet (the TA has been keeping up but there are 30+ students). And why did I schedule a review session on Tuesday (I didn't, it is the school's schedule), and... Perhaps if I were not exhausted it wouldn't get to me -or at least not so much that I freeze up and stumble over the next few points trying to get my balance, or maybe just my usual skin tone back.

I get it now about all those studies showing health issues for "primary care givers" -I always hated the phrase. Mainly because of "health professionals" wanting to use that term to describe my relationship with Caleb when really "mom" seemed perfectly good. Still the part about the strain is true. It's not so much a physical strain -it is the state of constant alert. What kind of headache? How did school go today? Who will be on the other end of the ringing phone? What doctor did I forget an appointment with? (Years ago we got a call saying we'd missed an appointment [what was I saying? My mom just called and I found her back in bed having gotten up without her brace and then cleaned up after herself. How do I tell my mom that given her current eyesight it isn't really a help and where do I get some better smelling clorox spray?] -oh yeah, well I never could figure out who we were supposed to see. Sometimes at night I still worry there is still some specialist we should have seen and was just waiting to fix Caleb). Where was I? ... primary caregivers. I get it -it makes you crazy. It's like sleeplessness -and they work well together too.

Everyone says don't forget about yourself but that is just what I want to do. It's not 'me time' I need it's 'not me time'. Not me in charge, [another shout-did Bernie give her the nosespray for her back (modern medicine) -I'll check later], not me on call, not me missing calls, not me thinking, not me at all. And when I am stressed I get extra sensitive (dare I say paranoid) -so not only do I do a poorer job of teaching my students but even the ones who aren't murmering about me I begin to think are and every unreturned phone call is because I'm disliked or annoying and... -and knowing I am overreacting may help me show it less and be a less uncomfortable person to be around but I find me annoying too! Definitely no more me time. Please.

Jesse's art on the window and my Celestial Seasonings tye-dyed shirt. Anyway I only have "THREE minutes" to finish "payin on the computer" according to Jesse because then I have to play on the Wii with him (yes, we have a Wii -the first video game system I bought, I like the buzzy thing the controllers do. Simple feedback apparently works. I probably would train well as a lab rat.) So todays update. I had a fight with my 91 year old mother. Of course I don't think it was my fault but I'm pretty sure she doesn't think it was hers either. We are both touchy and pretty much for the same reasons. I told her she can't die tonight because then it will be my fault. I think she was going to object until I pointed out that she told me to drive safely when I went to take Jesse to preschool for the same reason. Bernie and I are going to make a list of things we won't be stubborn and unreasonable about when we are old. I'm afraid even if that works we will just find someother ways to be difficult -and probably more so since my temper has always been less even than my mom's. Not surprisingly I was lat picking up jesse too but when I said to him, "Here's your rotten mommy." (laughingly I assure) he so seriously tole me I was not "wotten" and then on the way hoome told me "You are not bad, at all mommy. And I will never be mean to you again." Where these things come from I don't know but I am hanging on to them. Yesterday he threw up all morning and then spent several hours telling us all how he loved us because we were doing a good job at this or that" oops, he is here and says my 3 minutes are up.

Oh and Caleb did sign up for 2 classes for the spring and both Tues/Thurs -good thinking.

And TODAY we have NO TEENAGERS!!! Happy Birthday my lovely girl.

OK -this is posed but it was all the middle monkey's idea. My older monkeys liked their pictures taken too but I'm not sure it meant as much at this age. And they didn't ask to see the results right away because that would have been silly. I had to take the film to be developed. Jesse of course would be completely baffled by a camera that didn't give you instant gratification.

Medical updates. Grandma is improving but indignities still happen and she has this brace thingy (medical term) that she has to wear for any activities (like sitting, or standing, or moving) and she needs help to get in it. She is not scrubbing floors yet and I made it clear to the case manager that should be the therapy goal. They have to have goals of course. She gave me one og those looks before laughing to be sure I didn't mean it. Today we got a CDC guide to safety for the elderly at home. I like the part that said any furniture in her path should be moved (what if she changed paths?) and best of all the warning that there should never be "objects on the floor." Oh that's reasonable. That of course explains the PT's look when she commented that she could see there must be small children around (I left the toy cabinet's doors open and the potential floor dwelling objects were there for all to see).

Caleb is (cross my fingers) looking at signing up for classes next semester. I am naturally lazy so it hasn't been too hard to stay out of the process so far but I am getting anxious now. I want to check schedules and make appointments and all that. I did tell him today to make some progress on it this week but I know he needs to do this on his own. Maybe it is God's idea to keep me busy or I probably would have been doing alot more pushing lately. God is so funny.

sleep-deprived babble -maybe skip this one

This picture is old but the giant asters look just like this again this year so I don't need a new picture. I am writing today because I put it on my list to do. Mom walked a little more today. Jesse had a complete melt down because I wouldn't feed the cat while I was on the phone with mom's doctor. Oh the day started with a call from mom's neighbors that one (of the three we were going to pick up next week) cat had died. And possibly it was a violent end but the damage might have just been after the fact. TMI for a for breakfast call. And one car also had a violent possible end today-but maybe not. It may just need new tires but the state trooper took the opprotunity to lecture, a young man who rarely drinks and certainly hadn't today, on drinking and driving lecture (by the by not so much as a citation was written up since the wrong doers were a) the rain and b) the guy who pulled out in front of my young man and after a brief stop took off before any police could arrive) ... Actually it had been my plan after an uneventful day to give some cooking tips. Something about using fresh thyme and steaming asparagus with white wine. As it is the KFC grilled chicken tonight went well with the boxed wine (none of the drinkers were drivers). But it is raining.

Retreating and advancing

I survived a women's church retreat. Actually, it survived me. And it was actually quite wonderful and I could get very mushy about the love-ly (really) women there. And only in God's house (in this case it came with 2 pool tables and a hot tub) could such a mix of people find so much comfort and joy in one another. The weather didn't hurt (as retreat "leader" this was the one thing I accepted full responsibility for). I thought adding the dolphins was a nice touch.

Back on the home front Bernie prepared for bringing my mom home. He even bought flowers for her. And got mad at the tech who told her that her hair was too tangled and not washed right and ought to be just cut off. Mom was amused though (evetually) because when the tech found out mom's age her attitude changed completely. Apparently what wasn't acceptable in a sickly 70 year old was alright in a relatively healthy 91 year old. Bernie gets so protective it's kinda cute until today when he also got mad at the hurried, he thought impatient, charge nurse. He managed to keep his temper with her but a few items carried to the car suffered. He definitely needs a break from the medical world. They did lose a very expensive medicine that was at least a third full but the thing is we got OUT of there and mom enjoyed my paella and Jesse said at grace that he is "so happy because Grandma is back at home. Shank you, shank you." So right now it is all pretty good. Oddly enough, gray day again, but one I can live with.

Playing Around

My mom is at the "rehab" place and they are pretty serious about the rehab part. The doctor there is optimistic she can get back to where she was functionally but says there is "no healing" of her porous old bones - just pain management. I haven't shared this with her and I am trying not to take it too seriously myself. My mom is used to ignoring pain but, it turns out, she is not used to having to work against it. Or maybe it is the being over 90 and the fact that it is a little tough to keep coming up with good reasons not to jump in the river other than a) someone would have to drive her there and b) neither her other daughter nor middle grandson (my side) could agree if the water was actually high enough. So she abandoned that plan and settled for making the next visitor (me) go out for ice cream. As if a broken back was not enough she is losing areas of sight in her remaining eye. She told a friend of mine who stopped by that she couldn't see her face but her "breasts were very nice." She is not losing her mind at least, but her "give-a-damn" is slipping a bit.

The plan is to "release" her this Saturday (so if you want to visit her now is your chance) -naturally since this is the weekend of the church retreat that I convinced myself a few months ago I should help organize. God is so funny. If I wasn't so tired I'd laugh. The tiredness is really the biggest complaint I have. Since mom fell I haven't for one reason or another had much sleep. My fear is if my students knew how little sleep I'd had before those last 2 lectures (one the night grandma was admitted, one the night after a certain daughter of mine called from college at 2am because.... oh you had to be there) they would NOT be surprised. On the other hand I never actually made a complete botch of anything, even if I did end up barefoot because somehow when I am tired and also kind of excited about explaining study design issues my shoes come off.

The video posted above is the guitar player's attempt at building a ramp for grandma's return and the little one's discovery of it's true purpose -and the fact that it (the ramp) is probably a bit steep. Also we will, obviously, have to get a rocking chair for grandma. Maybe if there was a little less playing around and a little more carpentry the ramp would be wheelchair ready. That would be no fun. Oh my shoes were off during the filming of this video.

We're from the government and we're here to help...

First my mom is doing much better -they made her work hard today but still let her have dinner in bed. Caleb is thinking of signing up for classes next semester. The 4 year old popped his own microwave popcorn (not a parent approved activity). Fine. This blog is not about this. This is a true story I share in honor of the Senate being about to pass a huge health care overhaul. Last April when Caleb's shunt first failed and the CSF was building up in his abdomen and he was in excruciating pain and at serious risk for several fairly fatal things the local hospital needed to move him to a "higher level of care" so they arranged transport. To no one's comprehension the ambulance had to come from the other hospital (1 hour away). I think they got lost (not a bad guess since I know they got lost going back) but over 2 hours later they arrived. We then proceeded to wait for another hour plus while they tried to get someone to sign a form attesting to Caleb being bed ridden permanently. In the end the local guys had to get a case manager from her dinner to explain to the transport guys that a) Caleb was not a Medicare/Medicaid patient and b) his was an emergency transport to "higher care". It turns out these were the magic words because Medicare is very particular about transport to a lower care facility. So while he got more and more critical various people were completely paralyzed by federal rules -I would have vastly preferred a death panel at that point. Please.

I was reminded of all this recently with my mother's (with the spinal injury) transfer to a "lower care facility". Four different people explained that we could try moving her ourselves but we couldn't count on Medicare reimbursing us if we had it done by a medical wheelchair transport service. And everytime when they told me it would cost $80 (you did not miss any zeroes, there was only one) I said fine, I'll sell her silver. So while Medicare did not apparently blink at MRIs galore, nor did doctors hesitate to order them, this less-than-a-night-out caused great concern and a willingness to compromise care. I can only guess that other obviously middle class folks actually complain about spending $80 to get their family member where they need to be and feel only Medicare should pay. And I still have nightmares about that ambulance with Calebif he had been a Medicare patient. So here you have everything I look forward to in the federal government's cost saving efforts and my faith in their ability to improve things.

Feel free to pass this around!

Almost 9 months ago but he is still practicing stomping. While he enters his dramatic phase (he was going to "die -ie" because it was the "wong" pizza tonight) -or should I say perfects, it I am entering my where-did-all-my-brain-cells-go-phase. My mom, the beloved grandma who knows everything, has been transferred to a rehab facility that seems very nice and seems to mean business. I'm not sure if she was joking or not when she said she was happy with the program they were starting her on except for the insufficient time for naps. I am guilt ridden because I only plan to go in once a day and to take advantage of my free time to - no wait a minute. I have a four year old. I forgot. I actually do momentarily forget. And a part time (limited of course) job and a very messy house and a whole lot of laundry... Maybe there is a reason I feel this tired. But I didn't seem to when Caleb was in the hospital -or this stupid. Maybe I am forgetting. All I know is this is my mother and this is different. I know she is going to die - I just don't know when. My children on the other hand I have no such knowledge pertaining to such events, certainly not in my lifetime. I was often fearful when Caleb was having all those surgeries but, well it was different, scarier but less of a personal private weight. This mortality thing getting hold of one's parents on the other hand... Well it nevers seems so unexpected as in one's own life. Like gray hairs and wrinkles and extra weight. It only seems extraordinary when I see it on me!

It is in fact practically an island that my mom lives on. Present tense is so important. Even though she is still in the hospital, I keep reminding her the plan is to first get her back here and then home again (silently adding, whenever someone can be there with her). The pain is under control but her spine is fractured and they have made her a brace -if we could paint it silver she'd look like a medieval Empress. And the plan may (or may not) be to discharge her to a rehab facility near the hospital for 1-2 weeks. Or maybe a not-a-nursing-home with less rehab somehwere else (we have a list of 6 for you viewing pleasure). The one I recognize on the list is very nearby and most defnitely a nursing home for some. And either any way we would have to get her there. Now that surprised even me. Here, she can't twist or move the wrong way so just get her into the car... or there is a "wheelchair taxi service" that may (or may not) be covered by medicare. The taking 4 days to tell us the hospital pharmacy didn't carry one of her medicines (she is only on 2 that matter) didn't surprise me at all. Been there done that.

She would clearly rather be on her island. She said she was dragging us all down -and I said no -she is the anchor that keeps us all from drifting out to sea. She always has been. She needs to hold on to us just a little longer.

I don't seem to have alot of pictures of my mom's in September -but there was this after a hurricane 3 years ago. She sailed that boat alone not that many years before but the center board kept falling out. Really. Sometime bernie would dive for it if we thought it went missing around the dock. Now mom is sort of like this in the hospital. They are as well run as ever. Today was spent waiting for tests that were "DCed" by one doctor and reordered by another. And then the guy I thought was the competent one ordered two tests done together that can't be done together. It hadn't made sense to me either but I kept my mouth shut (oddly enough). The radiology department didn't though and had to explain to the nurse (who explained to the doctor) that they would actually have to wait 24 hours between tests. Meanwhile no food or drink -and she just wanted her coffee!

Now she has had her coffee and more pain meds and is "resting comfortably" but we still have no idea what comes next. A hospital bed at home at the very least. I wanted to find her something interesting to read but the only news magazine in the gift store had a picture of an electrical cord and said "PULLING THE PLUG ON GRANDMA". I didn't get it. On the other hand I couldn't resist telling her about it. There are no plugs to pull now anyway.

gray gray day

Just a news note. After being up with my mom at 4:30 because she needed help moving we finally called the rescue squad at 6:30 (AM). So Bernie is going in now and I am home with a sleeping Jesse to try and "rest" before lecturing tonight. It's not really very interesting. 91 year old woman recovering too slowly from a fall -definitely not drama-in-real-life material. Except that she is my mother and I am much too young to do without my mother. My gray hairs might fool you (if I hadn't dyed them) but I am. And I know it doesn't look like an earth shaking tragedy but I assure you it is. I usually can philosophize about the really big stuff but it is the "little" stuff -the things we certainly could see coming and that all our neighbors will or have had too- those things befuddle me and there seems no comfort. At least not at 6:30 (AM) on an unopened morning.

This is the sun setting in front of my mother's house and it is pretty much the view from her bedroom. That is why she would rather live at home. Instead she is with us, curled up on her side, dreading every movement, unable to do much at all. She still manages to be picky about her toast and coffee, to laugh at Jesse, to smile at me, to apologize about the indignities, and to not get too upset with Nancy Pelosi (she does say the narcotics help with that).
Somehow this mom thing has been so much harder than I expected. Its not the laundry, or the running and fetching, or trying to get hold of the doctor -I expected that. It's the grief. I do not burst into tears at everything but I want to. When I do occasionally burst I have to do so away from my mom. I'm not my usual stoic self (if you don't know me the whooshing sound was my friends and loved ones running for cover). My mom has never cried much. Nor has she approved of crying much, or whining, or cutting your spaghetti. So when she said whe wanted to die this morning- as matter of factly as possible she didn't appreciate my tears or my vehemence in telling her it was not acceptable at this time. If her lungs, or heart were going, if she had cancer, -alright. But this she is just going to have to get over. Jesse isn't old enough to understand. I am not old enough to understand. Well, writing has helped -I know what to make for dinner -we'll have spaghetti.

This picture has nothing to do with what I wanted to say today but I like the story it tells -all you have to know to fill in the caption is that the track over the roof and down the windshield of the car was put there by the yellow sled in the hands of the perpetrator.
Snowiness and that day seem a far far distant memory today. Now I am fighting my way through all Caleb's bills (it took 4 months but I just got the neurosurgeon's grand total) and trying to be cheery and encouraging seeing my mom in more pain than I have ever seen her in before. Every movement is painful and that means they aren't very quick and that means she can't get where she need to go in time all the time and that means she is embarassed and I am doing alot of laundry as cheerfully as possible. See me whistle while I work... And because she is trying not to complain about life she does complain about the bread my husband got (bad German pumpernickel buying man, bad) or politics or the medicine we try to get her to take or... herself. She is ashamed of herself. I inherited this tendency. The sicker I am the more I apologize -mom always said that was how she could tell when I was really sick. So I guess she is not faking it. But it did get us to go get her the better bread.
And by the way -you know who comes in and keeps grandma company and gets her lunch when I go out? Caleb, of course. And who reads to Jesse when I was too busy? Grandma of course -well all the time, -but when the codeine kicks in! So it is ok, really. (And Wegman's does have the best Napoleons)
I'm think of adding cooking tips.

Morning

It is morning. Caleb's headache is better, mom's pain is worse. She says her condition is depressing -you mean the getting old and your body is falling apart condition? I helpfully ask. Yes. That's the one. Caleb started out that way though so I am not so sympathetic this morning. Also I can only go in so many directions at once so right now I am just going to get the oatmeal done.

Another cat that is gone. We'd made him an outdoor cat after he started expressing his disapproval of Jesse by... no even on a semi ananymous blog I can't go into detail but when the vet stopped laughing she said it was time to banish him from the house. He made it through the first winter but last winter he disappeared. I thought of him when my mom said she felt like a wounded animal and just wanted to go find some where quiet to let her wounds heal (or die I thought) -but no. We (by which I mean the rescue squad) dragged her to the ER where 6 hours later they said her fall had only bruised her -probably. It is possible some of those cracks in her spine are new but most of them are not. She gracioulsy thanked the doctor for telling her his findings, "eventually" -he had almost made it out the door (aka, flimsily curtained opening) when this last word sort of reached out and popped him. My mom may not have good balance but her timing is great. We trundled her back home -but first we stopped by Wegman's since she had never been in one before. So there we were. Mom and wheelchair, Caleb and crutches, Jesse in a cart and me and my sweetie. It was kinda like a date night.
And now, with my sweetie gone on a work trip (they are testing something with balloons, really) , my mom moving as little as possible and me wigging out on some student when I couldn't remember a simple way to make a nice example of confounding I come home and Caleb tells me his head hurts. It has been hurting for hours. And immediately I think that this time I really will lose my mind. Or not. He did admit then that he had forgotten to drink much today. I made him drink and called my prayer partner- she asked if there were any flu symptoms (wisely I have an RN prayer partner) -that would be good. H1N1 would be way better. That's where I am right now, hoping it's just swine flu. Of course there is the very real chance it is just a headache. After all, mom is fine, I found my necklace in the hospital parking lot today only a little run over, I was not at all confused with one student -it's all good (evetually)

falling

This cat is gone but not from falling. She was the best cat so of course she died first. If she had fallen -at least from this she would have landed on her feet. 91 year olds do not land on their feet. Even from no height at all. My mom fell today trying to sit down at the table. The 4 yr old tried to help her up. He went and got a napkin to do this -we do not know why. Eventually my sweetheart (who I fell in love with yesterday, last counting) and the grandson with mutton chops were able to help her up. Then I gave her ibuprofen and the sweetheart offered her wine or tramadol -she went for the wine, and he put on some loud Italian opera and she went back to bed and the littlest took her "Horton Hears a Who" to read to him.
Short pause to check the shelf placement of my latest home-improvement project (which I now pay my children to do) and stop to dance to Guy Clark's rendition of "Homegrown Tomatoes" (find on YouTube), -then my guitar background music, working out the chords. Oh the pauses to dance -that's why I keep falling.

09-09-09 (I like it I admit)

This is a sad picture because it is several years old and I have no morning glories today. They just didn't make it. I have no idea why. That's not like heavenly blues. The moon vines did make it but they look lonely and on such a gray day I wasn't at all surprised they closed as soon as the day began. It is what they always do. It is their nature but today one could hardly blame them. My mother spent the day feeling guilty for not spending more money on our teeth when we were younger (she tended to go for European trips over orthodontia). I told her that was discouraging. I can (just barely) handle the thought of my body falling further apart but not that besides still always wanting to impress the guys I will also never escape mothering guilt. Maybe Alzheimers is not as bad as we imagine. I mean it would be rough on everyone else but how could I worry over what I did or didn't do if I don't remember it? Or would I worry even more then? Did I mention it was gray all day? Or maybe it was sunny but I was staring at the computer trying to make a simple program work -who knows. It was gray by the time I looked up and I realized I had no friends and I was not so cute anymore, and I am pushing 50 (as hard as I can), and the house is untidy and nothing is quite where it should be and... if the sun comes out tomorrow I will be as giddy as ever all over again. It's embarrassing at my age.

sandwiches

Above is a picture of what to expect if you are a late in life baby with a late in life baby. Who says you can't have it all? I asked my mom other day if there was some age at which when you saw a young man you didn't... I didn't get any farther before she answered, "I don't know honey. I'm only 91." By the by, I was going to say, "...wonder if he thinks you're cute?" but I don't suppose it would have changed the answer.
We took her to see the Fireworks and Fountains show at Longwood Gardens this weekend. The whole thing is set to music -in this case music by Khachuriansomething. I figured it was a better choice of my mom than the show set to the music of Abba. As it turned out she said she had never liked Khachuwhatever but didn't want to mention it before hand because I was so pleased with myself for not booking the other one. She did trust me that she would prefer it to whoever Abba was. She only confessed to her previous dislike of what's his name after the show because she had enjoyed it so much. And if we just hadn't been so self-congratulatory about a job well done on the way home the next day maybe we wouldn't have had to all (by which I mean me, my husband, my mom, my youngest, and my sister (all mine you notice)) ride home in the rental car while the van enjoyed a trip on the back of a flat bed truck having fatally overheated about 10 minutes into the trip home. Still we did get to meet a lot of nice people at the WaWa's, several of whom offered to give us rides, and a staff who stored the luggage we got out of the van (and remembering the car seat AND the wheelchair) while we ate at a cute little pizza place (plug for Bravos Pizza in whatever that place was) and waited for my old college friend in Delaware to pick us up so we could get a rental from the airport because it was Labor Day and all the other car rental places were closed (and every now and then college daughter would call about her temporary crown and/or multivariate calculus).

Maybe.

And who says Yankees aren't helpful to strangers? Maybe my mom will even leave the third syllable off now.

Maybe.

Privacy

Today's topic is privacy. I was listeneing to a healthcare discussion panel (I was driving and my darling had left the radio tuned to C-span) and privacy was the subtopic. And I had a kind of post traumatic stress flash back. When the one pictured above in the orange pants was 5 he had to be evaluated by the local child developement experts. Now, you should know that long before Hugh Laurie was on House I subscribed to the same myth promulgated there that given enough information -especially the kind you are hesitant to share - everything will fall into place and the doctors will have some kind of epiphany and simply know all they need to know to fix everything. And I really wanted things fixed. So when the polite young woman asked if there was a family history of I don't even remember what I helpfully, but with great trepidation, offered up to her that my father had been an alcoholic. Dead for 30+ years and he had pretty much stopped drinking by the time I was born but still ... I added that I only mentioned it in case it raised any red flags, and asked that if it did not could she just ignore it. Of course, she assured me, it really didn't add any information they needed and it need not be officially noted. I'm sure you can see this coming (but we didn't), the first page of their report -to go into the official school records said, "The patient is a 5 year old child whose maternal grandfather was an alcoholic." I think it took another few sentences to get to the part where he (orange pants not maternal grandfather) was born at 25 weeks gestation, weighing 1 lb 7 oz.
And let's not even talk about his first hospitaliztion for a shunt revision and the doctor who included us in his "Grand rounds." So there I sat at 25, trying to nurse a baby who wasn't very good at it (that made 2 of us) and connected to IVs and we were surrounded by the old doctor and half a dozen new doctors and made exhibit A. I remember desperately trying to pull things back in place while the one female in the group cringed at the back of the crowd. Medical privacy.
So that should at least help explain why I hide my face here and use one of the many aliases my mother thoughtfully provided me by changing her mind several times about what to call me. That and the fact that this was the only photo with a really good shot of my shoes. I have no idea why my daughter was hiding other than to follow the rule that all 4 kids can NEVER look at the camera at the same time.

upndownupndownupndownup

Last week we went far away for a long time (on a few gallons of gas and with one night babysitting). The picture is the view from our room. There were flowers waiting for me when we got there. We were able to check in early and just lounge around. We wore the hotel bathrobes and giggled. They were not slimming- but they were comfy and the view from the balcony was lovely. It was like being on a cruise ship. And our son in charge of our other son only called twice (or was it 3 times) to ask us what our plans were and where we were and when he could drop off his little brother where he (little not big) was spending the night. Having told him, each of us did, several times, writing it down in multiple spots, just wasn't the same as hearing us say so in the moment. Still he did start to pick up a little tone on our part and didn't call any more (that night).

A little deep breathing and I was back on my exotic cruise ship. We strolled around the old shops, we ate a lovely dinner -ok we ate too much of a lovely dinner. We had room service breakfast, we strolled and shopped more -barely escaping from a shopkeeper who may not have recovered fully from the 60's yet and surviving the scathing look from the pompous one in the next shop. I got a call there about Jesse and the canceled preschool class -now combined with the one on the days that don't really work for us and the teacher he doesn't know but I am weathering this crisis much better than I would have 15 years ago.

So any way we got home tired and happy and the next day dawned bright and early as cloudless summer days are wont to do but the clouds, so to speak rolled in. With the mail as it turned out which contained - a plethora, at least that word works here- of books ordered from eBay in an obsessive/compulsive/forgetful/impulsive bit of pointing and clicking Caleb had done. He does have the money to cover it but both the amount spent and what he spent it on (oh, I suppose I have to specify nothing risque) is just embarassing. At least to me -and if it doesn't embarass Caleb that is even worse. I was my usual sweet, subtle, calm self handling the whole thing.

That was three days ago and Caleb and I are probably both still shaking (a little less crying) and the books, unopened, are in the back of a car. Tune in here to see where they end up.

Last night we moved my mom back in -until someone can stay at her house with her but we leave all this pretty vague. Not for her sake alone. I think it is easy for all of us this way. All the options are open. Still- other than a little hand waving I think we have communicated pretty well without having to be too blunt and say, "Look mom. You are 91. There is no up hill from here."And I'm not really worrying about getting the right pads for you to refinish that wood trim yourself -but I pack whatever you want and I notice you don't put your painting clothes in. Little by little we all inch towards it but we try not to mention the elephant in the rrom too much.

Tonight Jesse had me call Carolyn and he told her whe needed to come home tomorrow 0"the day next to taday" he helpfully explained and that she could even wake him up by ticling him in the morning. This is a high honor but still she could not so he tried to arrange to "come where she is coming." This sister-going-to-college-thing is very hard and not a board book in sight to help us get through it. We could find one on 2 mommies or 2 daddies or 3 penguins but a sister in college -now that's abnormal.

Testing

Just a note(most of which is unrelated to the actual video) with this video. I see 300,000 plus bloggers also listed About a Boy as a favorite movie and 3,000,000 plus list science as their work area -but I am the only Limited Part-Time Faculty. I am so proud. I guess the PhD was all worthwhile. Plus I have such a musically gifted son. It's his own composition and everything.

The highs and lows

We took my next to last baby to college this weekend. And bought a beaver puppet for the last aby. It is tough explaining to a 4 yr old why his sister is going away to school and will not come home "the day next to today." Meanwhile I think I have poisoned myself with a Wegman's cookie. They are really big and I ate the whole chocolate dipped washed down with milk thing while I perused the news (MJ was murdered, Bill is down to a 2, things aren't going well in the Middle East, and appendices are useful (now they tell me)). Now I have a serious sugar overload and I called my nurse friend to be sure I'm not dying. I did not of course ask her this directly, I just gave her the facts so she could draw her own conclusions. She said to lie down and drink water. My excuse is that... actually it's pretty weak.

And in the other room my oldest is frustrated because he wants to travel alone and that is not a great option. There aren't alot of great options for him truth to tell. At least there is something he wants to do. That is an improvement over last month.

And I was working on some data analysis today -which sounds much more impressive than I spent 4 hours trying to figure out how to merge some data correctly except that I already had figured it out and just hadn't actually typed in the small but cricial "by" statement due to the argument over loud music with the next to oldest child. He is getting ready to move out. A good and terrible thing and suddenly we are fighting again as we haven't in years.

And it rained so hard yesterday that the hummingbird feeder has more liquid in it than it did before the storm. Fortunetely the hummingbirds will take their sugar watered down. They are lovely, ruby throated (and not) green flying gems of delightful joy. Really.

I love this news http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090824/ap_on_sc/us_sci_multitasking_mayhem

Second time -that's practically a pattern

No followers yet! Still, it seems a bit strong to refer to any friends or relatives I do convince to sign up as actual followers -but I like the idea.

I'm still just getting my feet wet here.

I stopped by the square where "the big boys" hang out. "Thanael's fends." Jesse wants to stay with them. They run around the brick courtyard pretending to be -well, I don't know what it was but it obviously had wings. I love moments like that. Street lamp lit and warm and too relaxed to even call sultry. The laziest of summer afternoons with the light turned off. Faces come in and out of my depth of field (so to speak) and the conversation is slow. But I did learn one young man's dreams -not so far from my own at that age and nothing like as well. And my son is there to scoop up his little brother and carry him back to the car and I know he is showing off their bond, and maybe even ours- because I am obviously trusting him even as I call out to take it slow as he runs with Jesse on his back. So there it all was. Talk about writing a PhD dissertation, a 4 year old running wid and a gathering of young men who are all my wild child's friends. That must be a success.

Then I came home and spent an hour-maybe more, trying to get the lint off the clothes I washed with a chenille throw. Lint is sort of an understatement. I could stuff several pillows.

First time

This is my first official blog -although I have been blogging for years -in my own mind. I fretted over doing this. When even murderers have their web pages that no one sees until it's all over how worthwhile is another drop in the ocean? But then I realized I could at least make my husband sign up and there was always the hope that I would reach all those other people just like me; struggling with a 90 something mother, twenty something kids, one with a permanent disability, a preschooler, and a part time professoring gig, not to mention punctuation (a struggle not a gig). We can form a club. Or not.