Going for a ride

Late this afternoon, Kerry wanted to go for a ride to let me see some of the storm damage. He was devastated by the destruction. He put Moma in the back seat for a change, and let me sit up front. We started out going to Webster's Chapel. She began to complain as soon as it looked like we were in the "country". She has always hated the country because once when she was about 6, her papa moved them out to Hokes Bluff. She hated it an swore that she would NEVER ever live in the country again. She couldn't appreciate the sights for griping about the country. "I'd go crazy if I had to live out here". Kerry and I  both assured her she already was in unison. "Thanky" was her response. We went through Pleasant Valley next. She said that there was nothing pleasant about that valley. I wanted to point out Kelli's house to her but couldn't get a word in edgewise. She talked non-stop, and it was all complaining. She wanted to know "what do you call this right here?" every 5 miles. She wanted water. She wanted us to get back to Alabama. And when we entered Ohatchee, she let us know that they weren't "hatched out". She really wanted us to laugh, but we held it in. She really enjoyed the ride, but could not be happy. Or maybe she is happiest when she is griping.

Confusion getting worse

Moma is still hollering about those places on her arm. I realize the nurse said NOT to put bandages on them but the nurse doesn't live here 24/7 and she has no clue how miserable Moma can make you if you don't do what she wants. She wants a "band-day", so I bandaged her like she wanted it! I do not plan to listen to the whining, crying and hollering she is doing about that stupid skinned elbow. Yes, it hurts. I know that, but crying does not help the pain. So, I just give her what she wants.....let the nurse deal with her when she is here. Then she started the "I'm going crazy" spell. She looked up at me and said, "Give me something to knock me out!" (The jokes and sarcasm are circling my head, but I'll refrain) I did give her a Xanax to take off the edge. They are not very strong. I take them when I need them and still work. So, long story short, she took a nap. She got up as brand new as the day she was born. "Have you got to work today?" she asked. She thought it was morning. She only wanted oatmeal and I could NOT convince her that it was indeed night time. She finally went back to bed. God love her.

Tutoring Brady

I tutor my great nephew on Wednesdays, after school. Moma loves to get in on the act. She answers all the questions, reads all the sight words and basically makes tutoring miserable. Today we worked on fine motor skills. Please check out my 97, almost 98 year old grandmother. Could she be any more 4 years old?

Be Careful When You Nap

You must be careful when you lie down for an afternoon nap. You never know who you might wake up with.

Update

Not sure what is going on; if she is weak from Saturday night's events or if this is something new. She is feeble and fragile. She is light headed and dizzy. Blood pressure and pulse are good. She asks the same question over and over within 10 minutes. She seems not to understand anything you tell her. I just don't understand what God's plan is for her. She most definitely honored her father and mother, but her days are already high in number. It sounds selfish on my part, but I do really hate seeing her this way. She tries to be funny at times, but she comes across sounding bossy or smart. She cannot hear the conversation so she interrupts, which is irritating. She just isn't my grandmother. But she is my mission....He reminds me every day.

Scare

Tonight I was taking a bath, and Moma knocked on the door and asked if her "walking stick" was in the bathroom. I told her that it wasn't. I took my bath and the next thing I knew Kerry was calling me. I ran to the living room where he was standing over Moma. She was on the floor and completely out of it. He had heard her fall, and tried to get her up and she kept going down. We finally got her to her room, but I couldn't get her to talk to me or look at me. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and I thought she was dead. Kerry ran to call Sherry (our medical directory). She came down and by then Moma was throwing up. She had messed up her diaper with "you know". The smell was horrible. I was gagging (I don't do well with that). Finally, Sherry diagnosed the problem. IMPACTION! Gaaaa-rrrooooooosssssss! Of course this was after she had messed up all her clothes, and we had taken her to the bathroom and put her in the bathtub and it was oozing out of her like faucet. I realize this is graphic, but I have to be honest. Living with an elderly person is many times NASTY! Sherry had to dig it out while she was telling Moma to "push". (I had my back turned and was gagging). Then she had to address the bad skin tears from her fall. Then she cleaned her up, and we had to double her diaper. I dressed her while Sherry cleaned up the commode. I got her to the bed and covered her up. She should sleep good. I HATE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY WON'T GOD TAKE HER HOME AND RELIEVE HER????? I know it is not mine to ask why, but I hate seeing her this way! I never want to burden my kids with the completely disgusting nature of being old.

Punishment

Okay, I don't have all the details just yet, but I had several texts and phone calls at school today. Apparently, Moma drew back her fist at the Hospice aide who came to give her a bath. Then she and Connie waged a major battle over feeding the dogs, so Christo stepped in and took the food. She drew back her cane and whacked him with it, and he took it away from her!!!! She tried to die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She cried, and begged and pleaded for that cane. She screamed "gimme back my stick!" and told him he would be sorry for the way he was treating her. I love it. He learned this from his mother. When he and Rebekah would do something bad with a toy or fight over it, I'd open the back door and throw it out! What a fine example I have been! lol

Oh No You Didn't!

Yesterday, my sister came by to do Moma's medicine. Moma always does whatever she can to get attention, and cannot stand for Sherry and me to talk. So she laid her head down on the table and started hollering. Sherry asked her what was wrong in a loud voice (so to be heard) and Moma told her nothing. Sherry fussed at her for doing that because she alarms us when she does and we think something is really wrong. Moma apologized. Then she asked Sherry a question that she had already asked her. Sherry was a little short with her, but not really ugly. I tried to intervene every time I saw that she was going to interrupt. Then it hit me.....I have arrived! Moma is most definitely a lunatic, but she is MY lunatic, and I do NOT want anyone else being ugly to her but me. I laughed at myself when I realized this. So, let me talk about her, but don't you dare!

Smoke on the Falls

Weekend Reverse....well, until Sunday

My mother used to tell me that you get out of life what you put in to it. So, I decided to stop complaining about being stuck at home with Moma and get her out. So, she went on tour this weekend.
Friday night (or late afternoon), I took her to the BBQ festival at Noccalula Falls (Smoke on the Falls). It was quite warm (and I am quite chubby) so needless to say after pushing her in her wheelchair from Jack's to the entrance parking, I was sweating bullets. I tried to smile anyway, since I am the first lady of Parks and Recreation. I wouldn't want any negative reflection for Kerry. I strolled her around the parking lot basically looking for the tent where I was invited to eat by David Burroughs and Book Systems, just so I would know where I needed to be later. As soon as I found it, we headed back to the first aisle for ICE CREAM. If you haven't eaten Wills Creek Ice Cream, you haven't eaten ice cream! I ordered us a small vanilla and a small (I wanted large) peach. It was so good, I woofed mine down in just a few short minutes. Ahhh.....but Mildred was too concerned about "it's too much" and "I can't eat all this" so she began offering hers to strangers. Finally, I said, "Look, these people do not know you and they do NOT want your ice cream. Eat what you want, and I will throw away the rest, and we are not going to discuss it anymore. Please let me enjoy this!!" Went in one ear and out the other. She offered it to 2 little girls passing. I took it away from her and tossed it, and played deaf to her rebuttal! We saw Diane, one of Kerry's friends and employees. She sent us to the VIP tent to get something to eat. I fixed Moma a piece of chicken and a bag of chips and a bottle of water, I got a hot dog PERIOD. Love hot dogs on the grill.....mmmmmm! Moma cleaned that up within a few minutes, but wanted to save the chip crumbs (which I disposed of later behind her back). We listened to the music awhile and then headed to the tent for our real dinner. I had no intentions of eating much. HA! They had a big spread, and we both ate! Moma cleaned up that plate too. She asked for a take-out but I told her that wasn't allowed. I figured she would be ready to go home. It was 8:30. As we headed back down toward the stage, I asked, "Are you tired? Ready to go home?" She spun her head around and said, "Well  I thought we'd stay a LITTLE while! Let's at least hear the music!" So I found a place to park her but I either had to stand or sit on the ground, well, the parking lot because the ground was wet. She leaned down to me and said, "Would you go buy me a bag of popcorn?" LORD! I headed that way and one of Kerry's employees gave me a bag she had. We saw Kerry's parents and some other friends. Moma was a big hit, and she was having a ball. When I finally convinced her to leave, I told her that we were going to stop and get Christopher my free BBQ (I had 4 tickets). We started out, and she said, "What is that?" "Pork Skins" I told her. "Well, I wish you would buy us some". I ignored her. When we finally got to the truck, I was exhausted from pushing her and carrying my big ole purse. I put the BBQ sandwiches in the back and she was quick to say, "Hey I want one of them!" Ugh....
Then Saturday morning, I got up and decided that I was going to the mall and Wal-Mart. Christopher was at work and Rebekah was in the bed sick. I dressed up the little princess and off we went.  She enjoyed herself and for the most part, I enjoyed having her out. She saw some "hooker" shoes and said, "WHO IN THE HELL WEARS SHOES LIKE THAT?" I had to remove her from the Shoe Dept. so the little children in there would not have their ears catch ablaze. I bought her a milkshake from Chik-Filet to hopefully shut her mouth. This motley crew passed us in Belks and she said, something under her breath. I thought I was going to have to tackle her. Thank God she didn't see any ghetto fabulous folk or the N bomb would have dropped. She was fairly good the rest of the day. Wal-Mart was fun pushing her in her chair and my grocery cart filled to the tune of $200 worth of nothing really, certainly no real food. Why do I continue going there for groceries? I was really worn out when we got home. She napped and was really good. But......
Sunday morning she got up with her Bossy Pants on. She has bossed and asked stupid questions all day. I am ready to go to work. I would go now if I could. At least I enjoyed Friday night and Saturday with her. Nobody promised me a rose garden.

Wake Up!

I am in a funk. A dark and twisty place. Not sure what is the cause. I have the "Idonotcareaboutanythingoranybody" blues. Well, I shouldn't say blues, because I am not down and out, not sad, just do not care AT ALL! I think I am over medicated. Men doctors have been throwing anti-depressants at me for years. I say all that to say this. I just want to come home from school and lie down. Lie on my bed with my sweet dog and basically tell the world to go fly. So today, I did.
I had been in a peaceful state for about 20 minutes when I heard the cane clickity clacking through my house.  I just laid there. She made the rounds through my house about 3 times when she came in and stood over me, grunting. I refused to acknowledge her. I never moved. She left the room. She must have gone to the den and sat down. Out of nowhere came this glass-breaking scream "WAKE UP!! YOOOO HOOOO JULIE!!!!!!!!!!! GET UP!!!!" The next thing I knew she was standing over me, punching me with that *&%@ cane, screeching "GET UP, YOU WON"T SLEEP TONIGHT!" Grrrrr......hating her, I got up. I stomped into the bathroom to remove the contacts which by then were glued to my eyeballs. Then I went to the kitchen to pour me a drink. She continued to walk around, nosing through things. The phone rang. While I was on the phone, she punched me with the cane and said, "Hey, I got to go lie down" I didn't miss a beat...."Oh no m'am. You get in there and sit down! You wanted me up, and I'm up. You are NOT going to lie down!" I can just take so much!

Weekends with Mildred....suck

I have looked forward to this weekend all dreary week. I wanted to get some much needed Vitamin D, but as usual, she has ruined it for me. Let's start with Saturday (because she was actually pretty good Friday night).
Saturday I wanted to sleep late because I have had 2 weeks of testing which is the equivalent of having the flu. It wears me out. My joints ache, my muscles beg for mercy, and  my mind is like a colander (stuff, important stuff, goes in but it all comes out, nothing sticks). But no, she got me up bright an early Saturday morning. Since I did not get to sleep late, I made busy with laundry, dishes, etc. To say that Mildred was busy is putting it mildly. I found a pair of  lace gloves that my mother gave me a while back because I was kind of obsessed with antique linens, etc. They used to lay across 2 antique books in my living room when I was in to the Victorian thing (which Moma quickly cured by breaking several things) ANYWAY, I wanted to wash the gloves because they looked dingy, and thought I might put them back out, I mean, she can't break them. I had laid them by the sink in the kitchen and gone out on the deck for something. When I came in, she jumped. There she stood in the kitchen with my gloves about to shove them in her pocket. Now, looking back, I should have let her just keep them, but I was in "bull headed" mode, so I had to fight for them. "What are you doing?" I asked. I reached for the gloves and she jerked them away. "These are mine!!" "No, Moma, they are not yours. My mother gave them to me". She struggled to hang on to them, screaming "Well, they fit me!!! They just fit!!" and hateful as I am I took them. She was staggering, and I got her under the arms to lead her back to her room, and she wailed like a 4 year old, "Pleeeeeease please, let me wear them gloves. They just fit me! Pleeeeeease let me wear 'em". I am so over her fits that I have no sympathy anymore.  Then much later in the evening, she had another one. I mean what would my weekend be like if there no dying spells? She was "a-hurtin'" and "somethin's wrong" and she was "going crazy", and as always wanted a magic pill to cure her. I gave her Tylenol and ignored as much as I could. She finally put her head up (we were at the table) and looked at me, and said, "I've got to go to bed. Can you take over?" I almost laughed in her face! Take over what? Does she really think she is in charge?
But Sunday tops the charts as one of the worst days with her. I slept late, dratted allergies! My throat was so sore when I woke up, I would have cried but it would have only made it worse. She came to me while I was still in the bed. "Julie, when you get up will you fix me something to eat?" I nodded yes because speaking is out of the question. She turned on her heels and immediately went to Kerry in the den. "Kerry would you fix me something to eat?" The covers flew back and I was up, hating her with gusto. I silently started her water for oatmeal, poured her coffee, and poured myself a healing Diet Dr. Pepper. Ahhhhh.....nothing like it. The microwave went off and I fixed the oatmeal and handed it to her, not wanting to speak. "What's today?" That is her early morning test of my patience. She knows the board is wrong and I haven't had time to change it. Silently, I walk to the board, and I put up today's date. She read it out loud as I wrote. I began looking for something to eat and the questions began. "Julie, does Kerry have to work today?" "Where's  Becky?" "What day is this?" "Where's that little black dog?" "Does Kerry have to work today?" ad nauseum. I nodded or shook my head appropriately and tried my best not to speak. My throat was killing me, and it was one of those sore throats that feels raw from sinus drainage, so I knew eating would help. I fixed myself a pop-tart. "What kind of cake is that?" "Pinch me off a little bite". The urge to kill her was getting stronger. Kerry left to go to the golf course and I just knew she would go back to bed so I could get in the sunshine! "Well, where's he a going?" "Julie! He's leaving!!" She is in to this new thing of tattling on Kerry. She finally went to bed. I did a few things and then decided to get my swim suit on and get me some sun! In less than 10 minutes, she was outside with me. She made a few observations about my suntan lotion, my book, my cover up, etc. then said, "I wish I had something good to eat." I said, "Okay, in a minute"  Then, as if on cue, said, " I sure would like something good to eat! Would you?" I just got up silently and went to the kitchen, muttering to myself, "I know this is a losing battle, let me fix it NOW!" I won't go into the usual "Don't feed the dogs fight" because it is so common, that you, my reader, could write it.  After lunch, she declared that she was bed bound. I was jumping for joy inside. I looked at the clock and figured I had about an hour left of good sun. The battery in the monitor had gotten weak so I could not take it out but I plugged it in and turned it up and opened some windows along the way to help me hear her. I bet that I had not been back on that deck for 10 minutes until she was coming out like brand new. She let the dogs out there with me and stood in the doorway looking at me. "You're showing your ass" she said. I nodded in complete apathy.  She came on out and walked to the other end of the deck, but I felt in my bones what was coming. As she came back toward me, she stood over me and said, "Julie, how much do you weigh?" I answered, "It doesn't matter. It is really none of your business" Oh that was the beginning of a volley of smart comments between us. "Did you say it ain't none of my business? Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I know by looking at them big legs, you weigh at least 200 pounds". (Ok, seriously, at this point I was visualizing tossing her nappy tail off the deck) She continued, "Lay there and show your ass to the world and see if I care". "It is rude to ask someone their weight, Moma" "How do you know?" was her brilliant response. I told her that weight and age were not subjects for polite conversation. "You can ask your kin folks", she said. "Well, maybe but your kin folks don't have to answer". "Awww hush up....just hush". I said, "You started it".  She and I went on like that for about 10  more minutes until Jean Piaget whispered in my ear, "she is only a child. You are arguing with a child in the preoperational stage of cognition". My Early Childhood knowledge does come back to me when I need it. Then, she got started on my toe ring. "Can you get that rang off yore toe?" I nodded yes. "I don't see how". I closed my eyes wishing she would disappear. Then I felt her grabbing at my toe trying to force the ring off my toe. I jerked my leg back, hollering "Stop it". She muttered, " I knew it wouldn't come off". Next campaign was a remix of "You are just showing your ass out here". I said, "Moma, I am on my deck at my house. No one is here but you and me! How can I be showing my ass?" She informed me that I had no idea who was coming in. I reminded her that I had locked the front door and no one could get in. "Ohhhhhhhh, aren't you smart?? You know it all!" she retorted in her smartiest voice. (more visions are coming to me like Jane Fonda and J.Lo.). Again, I was reminded that she is a child. I finally gathered my things and came back into the house, where she began dying spell #897. Currently, we are in the middle of dying. I'll keep you posted.