Whirling Dervish

It's Saturday!

Today I need to:
Shop: I need to hit four to five stores (pet store, discount store, drug store, large bulk items store, ?something for me?)
Clean: All Floors (vacuum & mop), bathrooms, cats' spraying, cats' boxes & food.
Cook: Meals for next week.
Make copies: Church program for tomorrow.

So . . . What am I doing sitting here blogging? Just wanted to take a moment before I become a whirling dervish. :)

I am a coward. I admit it.

I dread dealing with anything legal, or new, or different.

Today, I was finally able to take off long enough to get his vehicle titles changed into my name so that I can do something with them. I cried on the way to the DMV. It seems like I cry every time I have to deal with closing or ending one more aspect of his life. That’s part of it, of course. . . really ending things. Another part is dealing with authority figures. Since I teach every day, you wouldn’t think these things would bother me. It’s not really that bad and shouldn’t bother me so much!

I think I learned this feeling of dread when Mom lost her leg. I could never have imagined how hard it would be to see her suffering and be unable to really do anything to alleviate it. After the initial days of thinking that at any moment we would lose her, the days of hospital, critical care and rehab seemed endless. During the initial weeks in ICU, I had to make a number of difficult decisions regarding procedures and her care. And after those initial weeks, everyone else went back to their normal lives and almost totally disappeared. No one called; no one came. At least not until I threw a hissy fit. (Maybe I expected too much of people.)

And then there was a year of doctor’s visits and tests nearly every day and rehab every other day--while still working. Rushing here and there...four hours a day of driving.

When Wes had his stroke, I dreaded dealing with a whole new set of doctors and testing labs and financial/legal concerns. Once again, I was off to doctors and tests nearly every day. It seemed like deja vu all over again.Now that he is gone, I wonder If I would have pushed harder for more tests and treatment if I had not dreaded the whole process so much. Or would I just have been needlessly putting him through more stress?

So, I got through one more dreaded ending today and most of them are done.

Now...back to dealing with Mom’s myriad of doctors.

A Common Life

For many years, I have loved this poem by Emily Dickinson:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain

I think this aptly applies to those of us who take on the role of caregiving.This has been a comfort to me, when I have felt that life was passing me by and when I become frustrated, tired and angry. What I am doing has value.

And I recently came across another quote which really hit home:

“I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough”. --Nicholas Sparks, from his novel: 'The Notebook'

Isn’t it enough to have loved and to have eased one pain? Sisters!

Someone stole our smiley faces. The bums!

On our door at work, we have signs with sliding smiley faces to let people know where we are. to give them some idea of when we will return. One morning last week, I found that someone had stolen our smiley faces.

Sometimes it seems like life events have stolen my smiley face. I went out to lunch with a co-worker and she said that she doesn't see me smile anymore and that I always look stressed.

I feel I am constantly juggling doctor's appointments and medical tests, and shuffling and re-scheduling appointments, plus shopping and cooking for Mom's restrictive diet, keeping up with the household chores. Lots of driving. Lots of time on my feet. When anything extra or different is added into the mix, I feel like it's going to push me over the edge. And it seems like there is always something extra.

I am still dealing with legal items from my brother's death, which really bothers me. Perhaps it shouldn't, but it does. I hate dealing with bureaucracy. And then, it brings his death to the front of my mind again.

Too often, at the end of the day, my patience is worn thin and I don't have the level of tolerance I need for Mom. And I don't have the energy to do the extras that mean so much to her.

My goal, right now, is to get more sleep more consistently.

I sure miss my smiley faces.