Can You See Me Now?

This is a big week for my grandmother.  Thursday night is the annual "Widows Banquet" at her church.  I did not make up this name - they really do call it the "Widow's Banquet."  Each deacon at the First Baptist Church is responsible for the care and nurture of assigned widows.  My grandmother's deacon is wonderful... and he does many very nice things for Mam-ma.  This banquet is always a HUGE deal - as much as the prom is important to any teenager.  We moved Mam-ma's hair appointment to early Thursday, so that her hair will look nice, and she will have plenty of time to rest and dress.  Usually her deacon brings her a corsage, and she wears her nicest outfit.  The church social hall is decorated, the meal is always "delicious," and there is generally live entertainment - usually a musical group.  Mam-ma talks about it for weeks before and afterward.

So Monday, as I sat down to eat a late lunch and visit with my husband and mother-in-law, the phone rang.  Mam-ma wanted to know some details about her funeral.  I explained that everything was taken care of - I had personally spoken to two owners of the funeral home, and all would be handled to her satisfaction.  Then she said, "Well... I want His Eye is on the Sparrow and Beulah Land" (meaning she wants these songs sung at her funeral).  I wrote it down.  I told her I had heard from my mom that she wanted a certain church member to sing Beulah Land after it was sung at another funeral recently.  She said it didn't matter who sang it... and I pointed out she had previously told me she wanted a men's group to sing, and she retorted, "Why, they can't sing Beulah Land!"  I laughed and made notes.  I also asked about the hymns she had told me several months ago she wanted sung.  Now she wants His Eye Is On the Sparrow and Beulah Land.  I told her this was fine - and I would note that today she wants these songs. 

Then I asked, "Are you planning on kicking off any time soon?"  "No," she laughed, "but when you sit here by yourself all alone and think about things, you get to thinking about this."  Later my mom pointed out she doesn't plan to die before the banquet!  Anyway, I tried to console her and reassure her that we would carry out her wishes.

That evening, Mam-ma phoned again.  "Debbie," she said.  "I just sat on my glasses and broke them all to pieces!"  We talked about what she could do - didn't she have another pair that was very similar and close to the same age?  Yes, but she couldn't see out of them (I didn't understand this) and they were "great big."  No, that must be another pair, I told her, but she insisted.  I told her I wasn't sure when I could get there to help her... I was expecting to have the baby the next day and Greg had afternoon appointments.  She said, "Well, that's okay... but I need to be able to see for the banquet."  I pointed out that there would be no way to get new glasses by Thursday.  Maybe these could be repaired.

So Tuesday morning, I called the eye clinic and asked if we coudl come in and see about the glasses.  I dashed to Mam-ma's and collected her.  She was wrapping her glasses in a handkerchief - mangled wire frames with both lenses out - but not broken.  I hoped the girl could repair them.  She thought she could, but there was a piece broken that required a special solder, so we were unable to repair the old set.  New frames were ordered - they will be ready in two weeks!  Mam-ma said, "I can't see out of these others."  The girl checked, and they were misaligned, and she was seeing the bifocal at the same time as the other part, so hopefully that is better now.

We had quite a discussion about whether Medicaid would pay for the glasses.  At first the receptionist said that Medicaid would pay... but when I questioned this, based on past experience, she investigated, and Mam-ma has some sort of "QMB" Medicaid that doesn't cover glasses, apparently... at least not very frequently.  So we will pay $119 - and maybe that is "our" portion for Medicaid - for new frames.  As we left, Mam-ma told the receptionist, "Now I do have Medicaid."  She replied, "Yes ma'am, I know." Under my breath, I told her, "The less Mam-ma knows about how much this is costing, the better."  The woman answered... "I gathered that!"  On the way home, Mam-ma asked, "How much are these glasses gonna cost me?"  I told her around $100 - and that she can afford it.  She always tells me how "broke" she is!

I took Mam-ma home to rest... she had washed her windows yesterday (inside), and she was exhausted. Hopefully she will feel good for Thursday. I got home before Timothy arrived... now he is giving us a workout! Timothy was 11 months old yesterday. My mother reminded me that I was his age when my sister was born! Hmm... an infant and a toddler vs. an infant and a grandmother... there is no "winner" in either of those scenarios! Both have their challenges AND rewards. Some days they are just easier to see.

Spice cake, Michigan apples, and Balance!

Last Friday was a day of juggling and balance!  I ran some errands in the morning, in anticipation of the arrival of Timothy around 12:30 p.m.  When I got home, he was just arriving.  We hurriedly ate a Sonic lunch I had brought home, and then I dashed off to do Mam-ma Polly's errands, leaving Timothy in the capable hands of his Uncle Greg.

Mam-ma's errands were pretty straightforward... I'd already picked up her medications at the pharmacy, so all I had to do was take her to the hairdresser's and grocery shop for both of us while she was there.  She seemed a little addled and forgetful, but nothing too serious.  She had made a spice cake and wanted to share some with us, but when we returned, I was in a hurry, and she forgot, and I got home without any spice cake.

By the time I got home, Timothy was napping (albeit briefly), and Mam-ma was calling to apologize for not remembering the cake.  I assured her it was fine, but she said, sternly, "No, it's not okay... I meant for you to have it."   She said she planned to play dominoes with her friends on Saturday afternoon... that she didn't really feel up to it, but she was going because they didn't have enough players without her.  I assured her she would feel better for having gone.

The next morning, we had not been awake long when Mam-ma called, "I am so sorry I forgot that... I don't know what was wrong with me."  I was not sure what she was talking about, and I told her, and she said, "The spice cake.  I meant for you to have that!"  I told her we had discussed this on Friday, and it really was no big deal.  But it was to her.  So I asked, "Did you make more than you can eat yourself?"  "Well yes," she answered.  I suggested she freeze it and I would get it the next Friday.  She said she guessed she could try this.  So I must remember to ask for the spice cake on the next Friday.

Meanwhile, Timothy was a joy, and our Friday evening and Saturday passed quickly.  On Sunday, his grandmother picked him up around noon... and we entertained company that afternoon.  Getting ready for company and managing a household and a baby is either more of a challenge than one realizes... or I am getting old!  I was very tired.  Timmy didn't sleep well, and we were up late into the night - and slept later in the mornings.  Such is life with a baby!

Timmy returned at noon on Tuesday and stayed until noon on Thursday. We had wonderful spring weather and strolled every day - some days more than once.  Mam-ma has not felt well this week - a stomach bug, we think - so the next errand day may be interesting.  She says she will have a big grocery list (meaning laundry detergent and bleach and such), so we will see. 

One funny thing... last Friday as I returned to Mam-ma's after her hair appointment, I asked about her friend Ruby... how was she doing?  Mam-ma said, "She's fine... we went to Alp's this morning for apples, and she was fine."  Now, Alp's is a grocery store.  I was, at this very moment, unloading groceries for my grandmother from the back of my car!  She said Ruby had gotten some apples at the store that "were delicious - they were Michigan apples."  I am not sure if Michigan apples is a brand name, but surely no apples come from Michigan in March!  At any rate, Ruby had come by and picked up my grandmother Friday morning, and they had gone to the grocery store for apples.  Why they could not also get milk, bread, orange juice and a couple of other things at the same time is beyond me.  But I was not surprised.  Ruby has told me more than once that she and my grandmother grocery shop several times a week.  She is astounded that Mam-ma still has a list of items for me to pick up for her on Fridays.  I'm not surprised at all.  And Friday I may have to search for Michigan apples!

Catching Up...

I guess you could say it's been a quiet two weeks... quiet in comparison to the noted "walker" incident.  I arrived the following Friday to get my grandmother to the hairdresser, and I asked if she was using the "outside" walker.  She harrumphed and said, "YOU try that thing!"  She insisted she couldn't maneuver it and had nearly fallen... and that she wore herself out trying to walk with it.  So I walked the walker out into the street and back, and maybe there is a slight learning curve, since the front wheels rotate 360 degrees, but the idea is to have something more flexible if she hits a bump and not rigid front wheels that only go in one direction.  The people at the medical supply store thought that could contribute to a fall.

After about a dozen stern remarks that started with, "Well, I tell you what..." I said, "You know... you have money... if you don't want to use this walker, use the 'good' one for everything, and when it wears out, we'll pay $50 or so and get you a new one."  "Ohwe no, we won't!" she replied.  I reminded her that yes, we paid $50 for the "new" walker in November, and that this was what they cost - or more - but she has money, and if she chooses to spend it on walkers, that's fine. I put her in the car, still spouting "I tell you whats," and tried to change the subject as we drove to the hairdresser's.

For the third time in a row, my grandmother had Lysol on her grocery list and some off-off-brand can of disinfectant sitting on the table.  I said, "Mam-ma, you sure are using a lot of Lysol.  I just bought you a can last week and two weeks before that."  "No you didn't!" she said.  "Yes, I did," I said nicely... "let's just find the can I bought last week."  I followed her to her bathroom, and the can I had bought at Wal-Mart the previous Friday was sitting on her bathroom sink vanity.  "See... it's right here," I told her, picking up the can.  "No, that's not it!" she said, reaching under her cabinet... "you never bought me any... see... I need THIS!"  Well, THIS was a bottle of Pine Sol!  Now, there is a huge difference between Lysol and Pine Sol.  I laughed and said, "Ohhhhh... that's totally different!"  She answered, "Well, whatever... that's what I need!"  So I guess I am supposed to have ESP an know that "Lysol" for the third time on the list actually means Pine Sol.

When I picked Mam-ma up from the hairdresser's, she said, "I'm a gonna get a permanent next week, if the weather is right."  I stupidly asked, "What's the weather got to do with it?" and she wheeled around and looked at me as if I was from Mars and said, "Have you not ever had a permanent?"  I told her I had had dozens... since childhood... and she said, "Well, they don't 'take' well if it's cloudy!"  I had never heard that one!  About the time she made this declaration, the hairdresser walked up and I said, "Mam-ma wants a permanent next week."  Pat replied, "Yes, I know... if the weather is right."  I told her Mam-ma was saying that the perms didn't "take" well if it was cloudy, and she laughed under her breath and muttered, "I never heard that one before!"  On the way home, I told Mam-ma, "You know, if you are waiting for a nice day of weather in Arkansas to get your permanent, you may never get one!"  She said, "Well, whatever... I guess I'll just get one next week, and if it don't hold, so be it."  Thankfully for everyone concerned, the weather on Friday was FANTASTIC, and Mam-ma got her perm!

Last week, a dear friend of mine, Olive Baldridge, passed away.  Olive was 97 - her birthday just a few days different from my Mam-ma's - both of them born in November 1912.  Olive had moved to Little Rock to live with her daughter, Julie, a few months ago, and on Saturday night, she put on her nightgown, watched taped episodes of Wheel of Fortune and The Price is Right, then told Julie she was going to bed.  As was her custom, she made a walk-thru of the house checking things, and when she didn't return about 10 minutes later, Julie went to look for her.  She found her mother sitting on the couch in the living room... and Olive was gone. 

Olive was a dynamic lady - a force to be reckoned with in the Democratic Party - and a very stylish and classy woman.  She was a Navy wife, then assisted her optometrist husband in his practice.  After his death, she devoted her time and energy to community projects, her beloved Presbyterian church, and of course, the county Democratic Party.  Olive told me once that anyone who ran for office in our county as a Democrat came to her first for a stamp of approval.  She vetted ALL of the Democratic candidates in our county.  A memorial service was held at the Presbyterian church one afternoon last week, followed by a beautiful sandwich/cookie reception that Olive would have loved.  The little church was packed with local friends and family members - many that we lovingly refer to in our small community as the "Old Guard" - and politicians from throughout the state... all Democrats, of course!

Mam-ma and Olive were acquaintances, but not really friends, so she did not attend the funeral, although she did phone me that morning to say, "I guess I'm not going."  I had not offered to take her.  Mam-ma generally does not "do" funerals any more... even those of close friends or relatives... so it had not occurred to me that she would even consider going to this one.  She really seemed okay with not attending.

This makes two ladies in my grandmother's age group who have virtually sat down and died in the last month.  Another was a lady in Mam-ma's domino group and Sunday School class.  She laid down on her couch for a rest and never got up.  What a way to go!  It was as if both ladies said, subconsciously, "Okay, I've done enough... and I'm ready," and they just sailed off to heaven!  How I wish this could be the way for so many of us... and how I hope my grandmother's transition is as easy some day.

Meanwhile, my grandmother is still quite busy.  The other day she showed me two new pillowcases she has embroidered with pink flowers and delicate butterflies.  She is making felt baby shoes with embroidery "just for fun." She reads - novels, the daily newspaper, and her Bible.  She follows the news on television and has her favorite shows, including Wheel of Fortune!  And she is still full of spit and vinegar, just lately informing friends of my cousins who sent her a huge box of canned vegetables from their garden and homemade soup that "everything was too salty!"  My cousins wanted the floor to open and suck them in, but that didn't seem to faze Mam-ma.  I doubt the friends will ever be so generous again!

Mam-ma told my sister that she tried the "outside walker" again, and it hurt her back.  My sister told her to put it away and use the other one.  Apparently she has to hear this from everyone!

We've been keeping our baby Timothy for a couple of days, which always provides joy and balance.  This morning, Mam-ma called and wanted to know what day it was.  I was feeding Timothy at the time.  I asked her why she was asking, and she said, "Well, my aide didn't come today, and I wondered why... but she comes on Friday, not Thursday, so that's why!"  That as all she needed... for today.  Usually, she has a pretty good handle on what day it is, because her week is fairly structured.  But for some reason, today was one of those days.  I am left to wonder if again tomorrow, she will have added Lysol to her grocery list.

At Least It Wasn't the Teeth!

Things have been busy around our house lately, to say the least.  We had baby Timmy for a full seven days and nights in late January, due to a combination of work schedule complications for his mom and grandmother and a major snow storm.  The next week, it was 3 days and nights, and in between, we had projects, and another even bigger snow storm.  One day after Snow Storm #2, when Timmy had gone home, I helped my husband deliver Meals on Wheels.  Ice and snow were still everywhere.

My grandmother had called a few evenings earlier, in tears. One of her Sunday School members had died that afternoon.  At age 92, she apparently laid down on her couch and passed away.  The funeral was scheduled for the Wednesday we were out delivering Meals on Wheels.  I had called Mam-ma to see if she needed any groceries.  Yes, she did... and she gave me a list over the phone.  I told her we were also shopping for my mother-in-law, and we would be by later to deliver her items.  She said she was going to her friend's funeral.  I told her I did not think that was a good idea.  "Well," she replied, "Ruby's son has gone to check it out and see if the roads are clear enough for us to go."  For the record, Ruby just celebrated HER 92nd birthday... and while I am sure she still drives fairly well, we are talking 8-9 inches of snow and ice!

I told Mam-ma we might not see her, if she went to the funeral, but I have a key to her house, so we would just put away her groceries and move ahead.  However, while delivering Meals on Wheels, my husband started to leave the home of one of his clients and slipped.  He caught himself and sat down - otherwise, he would have fallen and possibly hurt himself badly.  The sidewalks were icy, and there were several spots of "black ice."  I phoned my grandmother and told her this, and she said, "Well, Ruby's son said the parking lot and sidewalks (at the church) were clear... so if Ruby's going, I'm going."  I told her again I thought that was unwise, and I could tell she was mad at me for saying so.

We turned the corner onto the street where my grandmother lives, and in the shade, that 8-9 inches of snow had turned to a thick slab of ice that had not thawed.  Her driveway looked like a luge run at the Olympics.  This was NOT good.  We entered her house, and I said, "Mam-ma, your driveway is terrible!" and she swung around and yelled, "I'm not a goin', so THERE!"  I replied, "You can just be mad at me... at least you will be safe."  "Well, we're not goin'!" she said, angrily.  I turns out that Ruby's son came by my grandmother's to deliver her sewing machine, which had been serviced at a local dealer's.  When the son saw the icy street and driveway, he told his mother she could not drive herself and Mam-ma to the funeral.  So Mam-ma was mad at me AND Ruby's son!

We unpacked the groceries, and my husband sat down to visit with my grandmother while I dispensed her medicine.  We commented after we left that Mam-ma simply refuses to cooperate.  She fails to recognize that a fall on ice could result in the end of her living alone in her own home - if not the end of her!  During the first snow, I arrived one day to see her shovel propped against the garage door.  I asked her why it was there, and she said, "Well, I had to shovel a path to my mailbox... but my nice neighbor saw me and came and did it for me."  That nice neighbor had emergency multiple heart bypass surgery a few years ago and did not need to be shoveling snow, either!  My grandmother knew this, but that didn't stop her from allowing it!

While we were at my grandmother's, she mentioned that she had terrible static again on her telephone line.  We called the phone company once last fall for this, and the lineman supposedly repaired this.  My husband had tested the phone lines in the house and determined the problem was somewhere between the pole and the house.  So we told my grandmother we would call and report this latest static.  The baby came, things happened, and honestly, I forgot.  Until today...

It started with a phone call from Mam-ma this morning - "You need to call the boys at the phone company" (Oh, shoot, I thought... I meant to do that last week...) - you need to call the phone company and tell them my power is off."

Me: "Your power is off?"
Mam-ma: "Yes."
Me: "Then I need to call the power company, not the phone company!"
Mam-ma: "Well whatever..."

I called the power company - they would have power restored between 11:30 and 12:30 (this was about 10:30). It has been a gorgeous, WARM day here - up in the 60's - and when I called her about noon to see if she had power, she did, and she said, "I tell you what - this WEATHER - it was really startin' to get cold in here in just that short a time."   I promise, this was happenin' - not possible, but she had cranked up her heat to warm things up!

I had talked to my sister, and she said, "Well, she's not going to be in a good mood." Was she ever right! When I called Mam-ma at noon, I told her, "Now your hair appointment is not until 2:00. I know you think it's at 1:30, but it's not... it's at 2:00, and I will be there in plenty of time to get you." "Well, okay..." she said. She has argued with me in recent weeks that "I don't know WHEN we changed from 1:30 to 2:00," and I cannot convince her that her appointment was NEVER at 1:30. It dawned on me that this is why Mam-ma thought I was late last week and was calling for me and waiting with her walker on the driveway. She has it in her head that we go 30 minutes earlier than her 2:00 p.m. appointment.

I got to Mam-ma's house, and she was a little rattled... she forgot her purse and had to go back for it. And she had the same empty can of disinfectant that must have come from one of her shopping trips with Ruby - some off-off-off brand I've never seen that she SWEARS I bought for her at Wal-mart. I told her, "I bought you disinfectant 2 weeks ago." She got all upset... she keeps a can in her bathroom and one in the kitchen. "So you need another can?" Yes, she did. I told her that was simple enough and all she had to say... but she was still upset with me and insisted that "you got that can of country fresh disinfectant somewhere for me... I think Wal-Mart." I told her WalMart has NEVER had that brand, that I recall... and I was fairly sure I did not, but I would be happy to buy her another can of something today.

We got to Mam-ma's hair done and I bought her groceries and mine. I remembered that I had promised to take her walker to have the "feet" seen about, and when I picked her up, I asked, "Do you still want to do that today?" She started in, "Well yes, they are just plumb wore out! I need some rubber tips on there instead of them brakes and wheels." I told her, "You can just go in and tell them yourself." BIG MISTAKE!!!

I took her in, and she started in telling the medical supply personnel how the bottom covering on her walker was worn out. We determined that I bought that walker on November 13th, and the man asked if she used it outside, and I spoke up and said, "No, you fixed another one for her to use outside and in the yard. This is her walker for church and indoors." So the man and his partner discussed what she needed, and I can't remember what he asked Mam-ma, but she said very snidely, "Well of COURSE!" like he was the stupidest person on the planet. I just shook my head... but I wanted to shake her! Then, the girl decided she did need just rubber tips, and she went to get a new set of legs from the back that would accommodate the tips. Mam-ma asked, "Well just how much is that gonna cost me?" The guy winked and said, "Oh, not too much."

The girl came back with the legs for the walker, and she put them on, and the man asked Mam-ma something else, and again, very snidely, she retorted, "Well of COURSE!" like he was an idiot, and under my breath to the woman, I said, "I am so sorry," and she laughed and brushed it off and said, "nah... that's okay."  And... there was no charge for the tips/legs. Mam-ma asked, "Well what happens when these wear out?" The girl answered, "Come back in and we'll fix you up again."

So we got out in the parking lot, and Mam-ma said, "These won't last... the concrete will eat them right up." #1... she got what she wanted, and #2, I pointed out she didn't use this walker on concrete much. She wheeled around and looked at me like *I* was an idiot and said, "Oh, yes, I do." I asked, "You don't use this walker when you walk around the block, do you?" She answered... "Yes." I told her, "Mam-ma... we got you fixed up with another walker for outside... you have this walker for using at church and when you go with Ruby to play dominoes and shopping... and the outside walker for your yard and for walking on the street."

Mam-ma: "Well, I didn't know that."
Me: "Yes, you DID know that... we talked about it, and I'm pretty sure I wrote 'OUTSIDE' on that walker, so you would know which was which!"
Mam-ma (meekly, and with a whine):  "Well, I didn't know." 

Then she started to cry and said, "I guess I should just stay home." I asked her why, and she said, "Because I'm just so much trouble." I told her she was NOT trouble, but she needed to pay closer attention to what I tell her.

We got home, and sure enough, FOLDED UP in the corner in her garage is the walker with the wheels that rotate for better balance in the yard and on the street, clearly marked in TWO PLACES - OUTSIDE. I showed it to her, and she said, "Well, I didn't know." I told her, "If you have any questions, just look on the bar. If it says OUTSIDE, you use it when you walk around the block. Do NOT use this one with the new tips except for church and going somewhere like that." "Well, I'll try," she whined.

I put away her groceries and realized she did not have enough medicine to get through next Friday, so I sat down to fix that. She started in about wanting me to fix her answering machine and telephone - it was blinking from the power outtage. I sat down to adjust the clock and the message, and I needed the instructions. They were in her desk... she handed them to me... they were in Spanish! I told her never mind, I figured it out, but by then she had found the English instructions and gone to her bedroom for something.

She came back asking, "What am I gonna do about this blanket? It won't turn off." What blanket? Her electric blanket... it had been "on" since the power came back on, and it wouldn't turn off. It turns out it was malfunctioning - a digital thing. I unplugged it from the wall - by working my arm behind her bed - and replugged it and everything was fine... then I heard her mutter, "I guess I'll crawl under the bed and unplug it." Geez! I told her no... I had already done that and FIXED it!

Her phone in the bedroom is still full of static, so I told her we would bring a phone and check it out soon. I called the phone company, but they think it's a phone problem. So we will see. Meanwhile, she said, "Well, I sure hate to have to buy another phone." I told her I seriously doubt she will... and besides, they are not that expensive. I think we have another old one we can give her... my husband is going to look. Then she started in about something else and I finally said, "Mam-ma, I HAVE to go, or my cold groceries are going to spoil." Looking like she had just discovered that I had cold groceries, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry - you just go on." I thought if I spent another minute in that house I might scream - or suffocate! (She obviously kicked the heat up several notches to compensate for the power outtage and how cold her house had become.) 

Oh, and she showed me pillowcases she finished embroidering for herself, and I complimented the work, and she said, "Well I sure wish I could do something about these glasses." I reminded her the doctor said there was nothing to do, and she said, "Yes, he said he could make me some bifocals for reading and close-up work." I asked, didn't her glasses that she wears now have bifocals? She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "These glasses I wear have bifocals in 'em, but they don't work." So she dropped that, and I prayed silently, "Lord, don't let her mention her teeth next!" That little wrinkle - or is it a bubble? - seems to have passed for the moment. (She told me in the middle of Snowstorm #1 that "something has to be done about these teeth!"  She had worked on her dentures herself, and apparently she was able to adjust them and remove the "blister" bubble that appeared.  The dentist had told her to stick a pin in the bubble to deflate it, then file it with an emery board.  Apparently that worked.)

Bless her heart... she just is such a mess. Her neighbor had brought her a beautiful vase of fresh flowers that was on the kitchen table - a "bouquet" she made from extra flowers at her church.  Another neighbor had left the paper for her in the doorway. And the a couple from her church had taken her out to eat last night. I asked if it was good, and she said, "Not really - they didn't have any chicken livers." I told her I'd only eaten at this particular restaurant once, but I didn't recall seeing any chicken livers, and she said, "Well I guess they don't have 'em!" She said her fish was too crispy, and "I just thought about what your daddy said - eat what you can and leave the rest." Don't you know she got her money's worth?!

Needless to say, I was very glad to get home to my husband and two cats and my quiet house.  We kept Timmy last night while my sister worked, and he is now crawling and pulling up on EVERYTHING and requiring every-minute attention so he doesn't get into something he shouldn't.  But he is less challenging than my grandmother.  My niece, who is a CNA at a local nursing home said, "You know dressing and undressing babies and old people is a lot a like - but old people give you a whole lot more trouble!"  I think that could be said about a lot of things.  Like I said, at least she didn't mention a trip to the dentist today.  But then again, I may not have given her quite enough time... and the weekend has just begun!

Learning to Read the Signs

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission. ~Eleanor Roosevelt~

I post this comment, because there are people who believe that I am uncaring or unfeeling toward my grandmother... that I don't do enough for her, or that I do not treat her well.  They base these assumptions on casual observations and claims of such from my grandmother.  I assure you, there is no basis for any of this.

See, I know my grandmother.  I have observed her behavior and her reactions for over 52 years now, and I am a pretty good judge of how she is really doing.  Last week, a dear friend of hers passed away.  This man was known to everyone as "Sis."  Don't ask why - I have no clue.  His brother - "Deb" - was my grandmother's constant companion for seven years after my grandfather passed.  Deb became a second grandfather to us, and we loved him dearly until the day he died in May 2000, of bladder cancer.  My grandmother was very fond of Deb's brother, Sis, and they visited often by phone, and sometimes in person.  So, when he died, my grandmother was naturally upset.  One of Deb's sons came for the visitation and took Mam-ma.  She saw lots of people, and when I went to her house a couple of days later, that was what she talked about.

During this same time, Mam-ma's blood pressure began to spike.  It worried a nurse's aide enough to call a nurse from Home Health.  The nurse supposedly told Mam-ma if she had pain in her neck and shoulder, to call an ambulance.  That was early in the week.  Friday when we went to the beauty shop, Mam-ma seemed fine, except she kept telling me she "just hadn't felt good for a couple of days."  Now, I recognized the tone and demeanor as a manipulative ploy.  If I would ask what was wrong, the flood gates of symptoms and ailments would open.  But I could see from her actions and the list of things she had been doing around the house that she was basically fine.

In addition to the loss of her friend, my mom and her husband left Friday for six weeks in Arizona. Mam-ma almost always has a medical crisis before Mom can get up the mountain and out of our little valley town.  So I was not surprised when we came home from the high school basketball games Friday night, and there was a phone message from my grandmother... "It's Mam-ma."  It was also 9:30 p.m., and I did not call her back, figuring she was in bed.  After all, she knows how to call my cell phone if she really needs me, and she had not done so.

Saturday morning, my husband, mother-in-law, and I set out to attend an auction.  On the way, I phoned Mam-ma and told her I'd seen her phone message.  Yes, she had called... "What am I going to do about this blood pressure?"  I asked if it was high, and she said yes, it was something like 189/85.  I asked if she had taken her morning medicine.  Yes, she had.  I suggested she take it easy and give the medicine time to work and we would see how she progressed through the day.  I told her we were on the way to an auction, and very quickly, she said (sarcastically), "Well, y'all go on and don't worry about me."  I reminded her I had a cell phone, and to call if she needed anything.  I did not hear from her again that day.

Sunday afternoon around 3:30, the phone rang - Mam-ma.  "What are we gonna do about my blood pressure?"  I asked if it was still high, and she read me some BP readings... 162/82 and similar readings.  I told her it sounded like it was coming down.  "Well something has got to be done!" she said.  I asked if she thought she was having a stroke.  She didn't know.  We bantered back and forth, and I told her our only option was the ER, and when she goes there, they always get her in a mess... screw up her medicine or worse.  Finally, I asked, "Are you wanting to go to the ER?"  She said no, but something had to be done.  I reminded her that a trip to the ER might likely result in a trip to the nursing home.  She said, "Well, I called Shirley (an LPN friend of the family), and she said I could take half a Lasix."  I did a quick search on the Internet of all of Mam-ma's medications and told her I didn't think she should take that until I found someone medical to consult.

So I called Shirley, and she said, "I did NOT tell her to take a Lasix.  In fact, I told her NOT to take ANYTHING until she talked with her doctor on Monday."  Shirley said Mam-ma heard what she wanted and would probably do what she pleased... and one pill would not kill her.  But Shirley asked, did I think this was about Sis.  I agreed that this had crossed my mind, and Shirley said, "I've been expecting a call from your grandmother ever since he died... she was so crazy about him."  We agreed the BP rise was from that and the absence of my mom. Shirley also said my grandmother's voice was strong on the phone and she didn't sound like she felt that bad... just "pouty."

So I called my grandmother back. When she answered, her voice was strong and solid.  Once she heard my voice, hers changed to a very faint whine.  This happens often, and she used to do the same thing to my dad.  It was all I could do not to laugh out loud.  I told her NOT to take anything extra - that Shirley said "No!" and that when her aide came Monday morning, if she felt the BP was high, she would call the nurse, and we could go from there.  She asked, "Well what am I gonna do about this headache?"  For the record, my grandmother has had "the headache" all of my life.  The last week or so, our weather has been totally unseasonable and erratic, and most of the people I know have had a headache at some point from the continual changes in air pressure, etc.  So I tried to explain this to Mam-ma... she still thought it was her blood pressure.  I just let it drop.

By 10:00 a.m. today, I had not heard anything from my grandmother, so I called.  She sounded extremely strong and well.  I asked what her aide had said, and she said, "Nothing.  She was in such a hurry, she didn't say anything."  I asked, "Did she take your blood pressure?"  Yes... it was 148/70.  Now that is a very good reading for my grandmother... and of course, she sounded disappointed.  I told her it sounded like she was on the mend, and she said, "Well, I guess."    We talked a few minutes and hung up, and later in the morning she called me to verify a phone number... she was already on to the next project.  It seems the "crisis" has passed for the moment... and hopefully we will have a smooth week.

Back to the quote.  There are those who would think I am horrible for not rushing my grandmother to the ER with such high blood pressure.  At one point yesterday, she yelled at me, "Well if I die tonight or in the morning, it don't make any difference!"  I've heard those sorts of threats before... and to some that would sound cruel, but I know her!  The last time we took her to the ER for high blood pressure was a couple of Easter Sundays ago, and we sat in the ER for probably 6 hours - some of that without the monitor even connected because they took her for an X-ray and forgot to reconnect her upon returning.  They finally gave her a blood pressure medication that her cardiologist said she is NEVER to have again, and after not eating or having any of her regular meds all day, she bottomed out, nearly passed out, and threw up!  We were several weeks getting her totally regulated after that little episode, so I am less than eager to go dashing to the ER when my instincts and assessments tell me we are not in a crisis... and certainly not an emergency situation.

But I have seen the looks from others.  I've heard the "I hope you know your grandmother is really sick!" (as if I was not checking on her and had no clue) comments, and I've felt the daggers from those who believe Mam-ma when she tells them, "Debbie is too busy to fool with me."  And Eleanor Roosevelt is right... only I can let those things make me feel inferior or inadequate... or guilty!  I have made a conscious decision not to "go there."  I'm pedaling as fast as I can, and I'm doing my best to keep my grandmother safe and well cared for... and to love her as much and as often as possible!

Meanwhile, our nephew Timmy is coming to spend a few nights with us... his regular two, plus an extra because his grandpaw is sick. So we are going from one end of the spectrum to the other - from high blood pressure to teething and crawling!  Life is certainly anything but dull and boring... and most days, this "sandwich" is pretty darn good!

A Lesson in Patience

We have had record-breaking bitter cold this week, along with some small accumulations of snow and ice.  Friday, the high was forecast to be in the lower twenties, with a morning low in the single digits - and wind gusts of 25 mph and upward.  I called Mam-ma - did she want to brave going to the beauty shop in the cold?  She said, "Well, I look like Phyllis Diller.  I'm not going to church or anywhere, but I sure need to get this hair done."  I told her it was her decision... that I was coming to her house either way to bring her medicine and re-dispense it.  I knew that my mom had taken her shopping last Saturday, and that Mom got her milk and groceries again on Wednesday in preparation for a winter storm.  In fact, Mom said she was at the check-out line with half of our county when Mam-ma called and said, "I forgot to put buttermilk on my list."  Mom said she had bought buttermilk for herself, and rather than get out of line and travel to the back of the store for more, she just put her jug in Mam-ma's pile of groceries and made do without on her own account.  But I did ask... "I guess you don't need any groceries?"  Yes, she needed dishwasher detergent and dishwashing liquid soap.

When I left home around noon, the temperature was about 18 degrees and there was a sharp wind.  I stopped at the pharmacy and got Mam-ma's medications.  When I arrived at her house, my plan was to fill the medicine compartments before we went to the beauty shop.  She had also complained that she was losing a thumbnail after mashing her thumb some time back, and I had brought some acrylic glue-on nails.  I planned to attach one to her thumbnail in hopes it would grow on out without coming off and snagging on something or being uncomfortable.

When I got inside Mam-ma's house, she had a grocery list on the kitchen table... dishwasher detergent, dishwashing liquid soap, buttermilk, and "ointment."  Atop the list was a prescription tube of some sort of ointment that was about three-quarters empty.  I looked at the tube and said, "Mam-ma, I've just come from the pharmacy."  "Oh, you have?" she said meekly.  "Yes... and I don't think I'm going back today."  Her shoulders slumped, and she frowned and said sternly, "But I NEED that ointment!"  I asked what the ointment was for, and she said, "That's for them blood vessels on my legs that have come to the surface, and they itch.  I didn't know you was goin' to the drugstore."  I reminded her that I had told her that morning I was going to pick up her medicine and fix it for her... and I had asked, "Is there anything else you need?"  She didn't remember that conversation, but she continued to pitch a fit that "I've GOT to have that medicine!"  Fine, I said... I would call and order some.

I called the pharmacy, and that prescription was so old that 1) there was no longer a pharmacy label attached to the tube, and 2) the pharmacy could not refill it.  The clerk said, "You'll have to call her doctor." When I told Mam-ma that, she said, "Just forget it!" (her favorite phrase when she is disgusted and wanting to lay on the guilts)... and I asked, had she tried some hydro-cortisone cream?  No, she had not.  I suggested I get a tube of that at the store, and I added it to the list.  She got up and walked into her bathroom.  I sat down at the kitchen table to fill her medicine compartments.  She returned and threw a tube of hydro-cortisone cream onto the table in my direction.  "I've got some of that... you don't need to buy any more."  I told her that was fine... and I suggested she try using it and see what happens.  For the life of me, I don't recall ever hearing of this blood vessel in the leg ailment... and neither do my mom or my sister!  There is no telling how old this tube of ointment really is... or when it was prescribed.

I filled the medicine boxes, and then I applied the acrylic fingernail to her thumb.  She immediately began fiddling with it, and I am not sure how long it will last, but hopefully it will protect the nail bed until her dead thumbnail can grow off.  She got her coat, and I helped her get out the door... where was her scarf for her head?  She had forgotten it.  Where were the new ear muffs I got her for Christmas?  On her spare bed.  I went back and got the scarf and ear muffs.

I questioned the buttermilk on her grocery list... didn't Mom get her a carton?  Had she already used it?  I checked her refrigerator, and there was a full quart... that was the problem... "Well, your momma only got me a quart!"  (I usually get a half gallon.)  I explained WHY my mother only got a quart - that it really was HER buttermilk, and she was being nice...  but Mam-ma still wanted another quart of buttermilk.

Then she asked, "Did I offend your sister?"  I didn't know what she was talking about, and she said, "Well, I called her to come get some food from my freezer, and she has acted funny - and she still hasn't been over to get the food."  I was really at my wits' end by this time, and I said, "Mam-ma... she is busy.  She has the grand-baby and a sick husband and a job and a daughter... and she has not been able to get out of her driveway in several days because of ice and snow.  No, she is not offended or upset.  And... she has not eaten the two big sacks of food you gave her a couple of weeks ago." 

To my grandmother's way of thinking, when she calls and says, "Come when you can," that means "come NOW!"  She has done this all of my life.  When we were children, Mam-ma would call my parents and ask, "Can you come help pick the peas (or beans, or whatever needed picking in the garden)?"  By the time my parents got off work, gathered three children, and drove the five miles of dirt road to get to my grandparents' house, the peas or beans or whatever were already picked and shelled, and supper was most likely on the table, with an admonition, "Well, I decided y'all weren't coming."

Additionally, Mam-ma has always said, "Now we need to eat up what's in the cellar and deep freeze to make room for the things we put up this next summer."  At 97, as my mother puts it, Mam-ma is no longer needing to feed the world.  She has a "deep freeze" so full of food that she can barely cram another package of chicken thighs in it, and yet she still is purchasing and "putting up" vegetables from generous church members.  And she is fussing that "we need to eat what's in that freezer!"  The other day, Mom asked, "What exactly is in that freezer?" and Mam-ma replied, "You'd be surprised."  Then she said, "Well, you know, Debbie brought me all them peas..."  If you have been following this blog, you know that two summers ago, my grandmother asked me to purchase her a half bushel of shelled purple hull peas... and before I could get them from the farmer's market to her house, she had accepted another half bushel from a church member!  We're talking a 118-lb. single widow who eats like a bird!  So, now she has made it her mission to feed my sister and her family - and the rest of us - from her freezer.

Mom took Mam-ma to buy some meat, and she said she saw some really nice looking pork ribs and roasts in the meat case, and she thought, "Oh, those are the ones I would select."  Mam-ma picked out the fattest packages she could see... they would be more tender.  Then she told Mom she didn't have room to put them in her refrigerator or freezer.  So Friday, she asked, "Would you like to have a pork roast?"  We don't eat pork or beef much, and I said no at first... but then I realized that was not a good answer. She sighed and said, "Well, I have so much food and I don't know what I'm going to do with it all."  So I brought the pork roast home, and it's simmering in the oven.   I'll remove as much fat as I can and we'll make sandwiches from it.

So we got the hair done, the dish detergents and buttermilk purchased, and the roast came home with me.  Saturday, Mam-ma called my mom and wasn't sure she could go to church because of the cold... she didn't have a good heavy coat.  Mom asked what was wrong with the heavy black wool coat I had given her?  She said it would barely button.  I find this amazing, as it was plenty big on her, but she also phoned me and asked me whether I thought she should go to church.  I asked, why was Sunday any different from being out for a hair appointment on Friday, especially since Sunday was forecasted to be warmer?  She didn't know, except she wore an old red down-filled coat she bought at a garage sale, and she didn't think that was nice enough to wear to church (it's not, especially since she has a wool dress coat!).  She also told me she had been to Fred's on Saturday with her friend Ruby to walk in the store for exercise.  So how was it okay to go to Fred's on Saturday but not to church on Sunday?  Reluctantly, she said, "Okay, I guess I'll get up in the morning and get dressed and see how I do."  Mom e-mailed me Sunday afternoon - her message said simply, "black coat."  I wrote back... "buttoned?"

After the events of Friday with my grandmother, our great-nephew Timothy came that evening to spend the night.  What a joy!  Teething, fussiness, and even a restless night were a welcome contrast to the stress and strain of arguing over ointment and buttermilk!  My grandmother is slipping.  She isn't remembering things for more than a few hours... if that.  Several times last week, she said, "I thought your sister would come by," and when I told her that the roads were iced over and no one was going anywhere, she would say, "Oh, is it bad out?  I didn't know."  We all told her how bad the weather was - and the roads - and still she would say, "I didn't have any idea it was bad out!"  Still, when I look at the challenges others are facing with their seniors, I count my blessings.

And as always, Timothy provides balance... and a breath of fresh air.  He is sitting up well now, and his Uncle Greg taught him to stand up and hold onto the side of his playpen.  He has new Michael Jordan leather basketball shoes - fifty cents at the thrift store (I haven't completely lost my mind yet!) - and he has learned a few new noises.  All of these milestones bring us great joy, and we realize how quickly they grow and change.  Maybe the challenges and tests of my patience that come with assisting my grandmother are good training for managing the challenges of an 8-month-old.  One thing is for sure... their temper tantrums are not all that different!  If only the solutions were more similar... and could all be solved with a bottle or a bounce on the knee.

Have a great week... keep your balance and your sense of humor... your gonna need 'em!

End of the Year Housekeeping

Happy New Year! Our year ended with two words... stomach flu! My sister phoned me three days before Christmas and wanted to know if I could come and get my great-nephew. She had succumbed to stomach flu (he was still recovering), and neither she nor her husband could manage the illness AND a baby. Timmy's mother was working long shifts as a nurse's aide at a local nursing home, so my husband and I were next on the list for baby care. We picked up the baby and brought him home, and we began to help him recover from his bout with this "bug" in time for our family holiday on Christmas Eve. We made it through our Christmas lunch, and then my husband began to feel sick. My mom and her husband and my grandmother decided they were already exposed, so they stayed until early evening.

The next morning around 3:30, I awoke so nauseous I could not move. I looked at the baby sleeping in his crib and thought, "I can't even get up to check on him." We managed until mid-morning, when the baby's dad arrived to get him. It was a long Christmas Day, and my husband began to gradually feel better, assuring me that within 24 hours, I would be better, too. And I was... but by December 26th, my mom's husband was down, and my grandmother was saying she was sick. She recovered the fastest of any of us, so we aren't sure if she really had the "bug" or if she ate too much rich holiday food. Either way, we were thankful she bounced back so quickly.

Meanwhile, there has been so much end of the year work to be done. I got Mam-ma re-enrolled in Medicare Part D coverage - a new provider, of course. I've begun getting the papers to apply for her supplemental assistance. I filled out several pages of information for one service, including a lengthy bank statement showing her auto-draft for utilities for the past three months. The application was returned, noting that I needed "proof" of her utility payments. Apparently highlighting her auto-drafts on a bank statement is not sufficient evidence. We determined that this supplemental assistance, which nets some $14/month, is not worth the time and trouble it takes to apply for it, so we are forfeiting. I realize that this is what the agency may hope will happen, and if my grandmother truly depended on this service, we would keep it. But we are in "divide and conquer" mode, and frankly, I just did not have the time and energy to collect - and copy - all of her utility bills, proof of her pharmacy purchases, burial insurance and more for $168. I'm something of a slow learner, I guess, since I've done exactly this for several years now. But I finally decided to cry "Uncle" on this one - and thankfully, Mam-ma agreed to it.

Meanwhile, I am very grateful that my 97-year-old grandmother is doing so well. Sure, she gives me a run for my money many days, but all in all, we're doing great. My sister-in-law lost her 90-year-old father on December 21st to a massive brain bleed. Her 91-year-old mother suffers from macular degeneration and other physical ailments. The family laughed that "together, this couple made a whole person." She couldn't see - he couldn't hear. Now decisions have to be made about how this mother will function alone - and IF she can manage in her own home with help. Mam-ma still sees well enough to embroider pillowcases, read the newspaper daily, and do routine household and personal chores. She still hears relatively well and can manage quite ably in her own home with the assistance of Home Health aides and family and friends. I realize this is a delicate, and precarious situation that could quickly change. And she does show signs of becoming more confused and forgetful. But for the moment, we are hanging on and making it all work.

I look at my little nephew and how dependent he is on us for virtually everything in his life, and then I look at my grandmother and the assistance she requires, and I realize that the two are different, yet somewhat similar. Timmy's needs are more physical - food, clothing, clean diapers - while Mam-ma's are more of the paper variety - forms to complete, errands to run, medicine to dispense, bills to pay, and more... at least for the moment. At some point, the needs may begin to look more and more alike. My sister-in-law said her prayer was always that her parents would be able to live alone in their own home until one of them fell over dead, and that is virtually how it happened. This is my prayer, too - that for as long as humanly possible, Mam-ma will be able to function in her own home, on her own terms. I'm doing all I can to make this happen... and for now, we're doing okay.