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The Curmudgeon’s birthday
So it was The Curmudgeon’s birthday today. He’s now 63.
G brought him cake.
I got my revenge for the Christmas present vacuum cleaner he gave me many years ago by presenting him with a new rollator the other day.
Dang it no winning ticket again
So G and I didn’t hit the lottery.
Which means still no escape from this life as a caregiver in a falling down around our ears home.
No beach home…. yet.
No spa like care facility for The Curmudgeon.
No financing more research into a cure for MS.
I need a daily reminder to take my pills
So I have been ill the last few days. Dealing with an “if I hadn’t forgotten to take my medications three days in a row” problem.
Yeah, I get sidetracked by The Curmudgeon and dogs so often some days that I really do forget to take my daytime medications.
Doing much better after two days of TAKING ALL my medications.
One day where no one is ill and no one dies
Every day on Facebook there are many stories of someone’s ailment or their pet’s ailment or so much death.
I wake each day, full of dread, at just having to face my husband’s Multiple Sclerosis.
I find I am online for less and less time each day.
I feel myself withdrawing more and more into an insular life.
This is not a good thing.
I can’t help it.
I am tired of everything.
He’s getting snazzy now
So The Curmudgeon’s new rollator/transfer chair arrived today. Gee, that was quick! Thank you Overstock.com!
It is simple and quick to convert it from rollator to transfer chair.
When in transfer chair form, I wish it rolled over floor transition strips better.
Now all I need to do is get his Mom’s old, heavy, clumsy rollator out of here, we don’t have space for three.
Once dark fell, so did the temperature
Warm day for January, we hit 61 degrees. Sort of funny, the back porch was so cold that the windows fogged up on the inside.
It would be nice if the porch were a finished and heated room. However, it is not. It is strictly a closed in porch made of cement block with a cement floor. Yep, that spells cold in cold weather.
In a normal winter I can use the entire porch as an extra refrigerator. 😉
Since night fell the temperature plummeted to 36 degrees.
Dat’s okay I habs me blankie.
Caregivers need care too, but seldom get it
One of these days, I’ll manage to make and keep the appointment for my carpal tunnel. Half of my left hand is constantly numb.
Seems every time I’ve made an appointment for my hand, he’s gone into the hospital and I’ve had to cancel it.
Heaven knows how I’d manage surgery on it anyway. There’s no one that will take care of him and the dogs.
Yes, I NEED to hit the lottery so I can have a life.
As if we didn’t spend enough there already
G and I are in trouble.
There’s a new stand out at the farmers market.
“Here, have a sample.”
We take a sample. Looks of ecstasy cross our faces. “Ah, too delicious! We’ll stop here last, on our way out, so it stays cold.”
We skipped the Amish bakery, can’t set off my sweet tooth now I need to have some restraint.
Stopped at the gadget stand and picked up a biscuit cutter, I am tired of using a glass to cut out my biscuits–I’ve used one for 42 years.
We split a loaf of fresh sourdough bread at the artisan bakery.
G bought cabbage for halupkies (stuffed cabbage rolls) and I’ll get some!
Stopped at a favorite stand and picked up a little bulk sausage, pimento cheese, and smoked Gouda.
Another stand for smoked chicken thighs.
Finally back at the new stand, we bought our lunches of sushi and seaweed salad. Once we got back to my house, we dished out and shared our sushi choices. What a perfect and delicious lunch.
No, the MS society didn’t pay for it…or any of the various walkers he has
I ordered The Curmudgeon a new rollator. I found one that converts to a transfer chair. It will come in handy when he falls and I have to get him from one room to the next.
A Duet Transport Wheelchair Rollator Walker.
I hope it makes things a little easier. His older walker I’ll move upstairs and I’ll take the rollator from up there (it’s too heavy for me to easily carry down the porch stairs and lift into car) over to Good Shepherd and donate it. That way someone who really needs a rollator will have a good one.
This way we’ll still have two lightweight enough walkers in the house, upstairs and down, and the new one I will use as a transport chair for him when necessary.
It’s sad that this has to be his birthday gift this year.
It’s never cheap living with this disease. Between his medications and specialized equipment he needs, we’re never out of the hole.
The best laid plans…
In this house making plans is a lesson in futility. Never fails, if I make plans, The Curmudgeon has a bad day and wrecks them, or one of the dogs has issues.
I planned to go grocery shopping. I never made it out the door.
Nope, Lucy did something she hasn’t done for a long while. She ate her poop. Then she threw up in her crate. The stench! OMG, the stench!
Oh, boy, howdy, does my gag reflex work well. Got so bad, The Curmudgeon finished cleaning out her crate.
Afterwards, I had to wash all the dog bedding and even threw in the covering on the couch while I was at it.
The house smells better now.
That will teach you to not take me out when I wake up.
A tad warmer
At least we’re not in the teens or below.
Lucy and Gavin still wasted no time again doing their business. Hooray, I am never fond of the cold and the less time spent in it the happier I am.
The Curmudgeon had a poor walking day. It’s hard to see him barely able to get around even with his walker. Harder still, knowing it’s only going to get worse.
I find myself wishing every day that we lived on a beach, stress levels down to nothing, and no stairs for him to climb.
We can’t even find anyone to fix the porch. I need the attic cleaned to and can’t find anyone willing to do it. You see they are small jobs and not worth anyone’s time. So we’re stuck with the mess and the stress.
Time to take Lucy out, she’s looking for her hat and hoodie. Silly girl.
The steps are worse than this now. Sucks I can’t find anyone to fix them.
Colder still
Even the dogs are wishing for an indoor toilet. Twelve degrees out there with a real feel temperature of -3, oh so not fun!
Go outside? Not without my hoodie and hat, Momma.
Doggonedmysteries 