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Run run run away…
As many a caregiver give will tell you, or not (because they won’t admit it to themselves), there are days where you truly want to pack it in and just leave. Believe me, If I’d had the money to be able to do it, I would’ve been gone yesterday.
It was a crazy “I am beyond overwhelmed day” for me. Even the small stuff had me ready to explode. Maybe it stems from being closed in with The Curmudgeon for well over a week.
Yes, I need to get out of here even if it is only for an hour or two.
Not a bad day…
Lackluster weather. Rainy, chilly, miserable in general. However, the flowers are all looking good and the magnolia tree will soon bloom.
At least the dogs are happy. Both of them seem to have hit the mother load of happy.
Automated prescription services…suck
I have no idea why they can’t remember one of my regular prescriptions. It never fails, it’s the same one every time that gets forgotten by both my doctor and the pharmacy. I swear I’m going to ask the doctor if I can stop taking it because they forget it so often it seems that maybe I am not meant to be on it. I hate that I have to chase down the pharmacy by e-mail and automated phone mazes and the doctor’s busy office on this all the time.
All my other prescriptions go smooth as silk. I swear next time I go to the doctor’s office and I hand them my prescription list that I print out each time I am going to freaking highlight the damned trouble maker.
Up tempo
I dance with life every day
two steps forward
three steps back
one of these days I might lead
two steps back
three steps forward
maybe a change of tempo
maybe an extra beat
one day I might miss a step
trip over my own two feet
might even forget the dance
and when I do
do I forget you?
Margaret Hauser 4/8/2015
Wore this yesterday
Well, that didn’t work.
So much for the Acthar. He swears that once he did each injection, he felt worse soon afterwards. This is not good. He called his Neurologist and she agreed that he should stop it.
Now what?
I have no idea.
I have a ringside seat to this show and I don’t want it.
It tears me apart to watch this man struggle daily. The way it shreds my heart makes me believe that one day I won’t have one left.
Today’s shirt:
Slight improvement…he’s not sure.
Slight improvement yesterday. Yay! Even a slight improvement is better than none. I wasn’t awakened by an emergency call from The Curmudgeon. Instead, he’d taken care of the dogs and himself. Then he did his shot and it shot him to hell so he’s not sure it is helping.
I got some much-needed sleep and no adrenalin jolts to wake me.
Yesterday’s shirt.
Day two of the steroid treatment
Started out with getting him up off the kitchen floor. Then later off the bathroom floor and into bed. Thank goodness for my neighbor’s youngest son who helped me get The Curmudgeon up and into bed.
Seriously think we should get a hospital bed for him so he can be more comfortable when he has bad days and has to stay upstairs in bed. Don’t have any idea how to even begin that process.
A lottery win would buy us a house he could navigate easier that’s for sure. This house is NOT easy on him.
You all have a good one. I’m going to go curl up on the couch with Lucy and a good book on my Kindle. I need some quiet time.
I don’t want to know how much the medication costs, please don’t tell me.
I should’ve known that when the phone rang early in the morning and the caller ID showed his neurologist’s name that it wasn’t going to be a good day.
His neurologist asked him to come in any time before 4. We went in. His MRI showed worsening plaques on his brain. She told him, “it wasn’t pretty.”
Now he has 5 injections…well, 4 to go, at one a day, since he did one already in the office with a nurse and a PA watching to make sure he hadn’t forgotten how to do an injection. He’s on 5 days of Acthar, a steroid treatment. That’s one vial at over $1,000.00. (Yep, my jaw hit the floor. So glad they ‘work these things out’)
We’d sure like to hear some good news for a change but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen any time soon. It’s as likely as a lottery win, a repaired porch, Yard Crashers, or surprise house painters and cleaners showing up at our front door. As likely as any sort of help showing up for that matter.
Stress level: High
I have no fucks left to give.
Too long a day…
He woke me yesterday morning with an adrenalin jolt–he’d fallen. So, not much sleep, adrenalin jumpy, stressed out, and not so ready to take him for his MRI appointment, off we went at 1p.m.
At the hospital, him falling on the way in, me grabbing a wheelchair to get him up an inside the building, having to maneuver it (with his walker in tow) to get him to his appointment. Then running the walker out to the car, back in to sit and wait for him… we finally made it home around 3.
I got him in the house and then G and I hit the farmers market.
We sampled some wine at Clover Hill Vineyards & Winery, I bought some Niagra–scrumptious for a sweet wine which I was in the mood for probably because of stress.
We did our usual twice around the market and bought other things too like smoked sausage and pimento cheese spread…
Back home we drank some spiced apple wine from Clover Hill and munched some crackers with the pimento cheese spread.
Before I went to bed, I’d mixed up a meatloaf and put it in a pan in the fridge, so glad I did. All I had to do for our dinner was toss the pan in the oven for an hour. A little salad, some mashed potatoes and veggies VOILA! Dinner.
You’ll find me curled up on the couch with Lucy…
I hope somebody out there had a good one.
MRI and then what?
So later today I take The Curmudgeon for another MRI. I hate taking him for them because I am stuck sitting in a hospital waiting area with a bunch of sick people.
Even though I don’t touch the arm rests on the chairs or any of the magazines (I bring my Kindle) and I wash my hands as soon as I get home. I usually come down with some sort of creeping crud.
I think they should supply healthy people with masks and gloves so we don’t catch whatever is floating around.
Color me green and unhappy about being there.
Crazy weather.
So I went to take the dogs out after dinner last night and fist sized snowflakes were coming down, fast.
Gavin took it all in stride, snow doesn’t bother him. Lucy, however, did a complete double take and then gave me a look of total disbelief. “WTF Mom? I NEED MY HAT AND COAT!”
Doggonedmysteries 