Christos Voskrese

Yes, I'm still here....
The girls are still plotting how to beautify Chirpy's grave. As it is, it receives all the palm crosses, church bread crumbs, red eggshells from church, and fake flowers they can shower upon it. They also ordered plush animals that bear a passing resemblance to her and put her collars and ID tag on them.

I managed to eat some spoiled leftovers last Saturday night, and what's worse, held them down until Sunday morning. THEN I 'tossed my cookies'. I recovered enough to drag myself to church, sit slumped in the choir, and belt out the tenor. We actually had 2 men to sing bass! Val works in Baltimore. His wife Sandy is first cousin to our choir director Nina. Michael, well..I'm not sure how he fits in, he's Russian and his wife is Greek. He appears frequently, but not steadily. As it is, his little son Constantine keeps attempting paratroop maneuvers off the choir loft rail. Boy, I'm glad I wasn't in the St. Nicholas San Diego choir, Thomas would have tried it.......

I slept most of the rest of the day. Didn't eat much, either. The Russian Paschka tradition is to pork out on all that meat and dairy denied during Lent, so I broke that. However, I had lost 3 pounds at my last diabetic checkup on the 15th, and my A1C (glycosolated hemoglobin) was a 5.5. That's within the normal range. Feelin' good!

Called Mom in her nursing home and my sister Grace at her home, which is a defacto nursing home with her son Aaron as caretaker since she fractured her lumbar spine and discombobulated her knees. Grace roasted my husband Bob for not allowing the cats in the house. In her opinion, he was responsible for Chirpy's death. I had to counter that the current setup is not my idea of responsible pet ownership, but a compromise with the Lord and Master that allowed the litter to even stay and not be carted off to the pound. Mom suggested that Bob misses Chirpy, but can't bring himself to admit it, having grown up with the constant propaganda of 'pets are destructive'. I think Mom's right.

Meanwhile, back to the job hunt, wondering how we'll handle going to DC for the tryouts, and filing for the nth time to get Maria on Medicaid. They accepted Anne and Rachel, but not her. HUH? The one who needs it worst? I dropped off a "Health-Sparing Medication" form at the county office on the 31st, and you think I'd have dropped off a fox in the henhouse. Tomorrow Maria and I go visit the office of a professional pit bull retained by Brandywine Hospital to expedite these matters. Let's go kick some ***!

And yes, Christ is Risen! Truly He is Risen!

Some Good News

Last night around 8 pm, I got a phone call. My sister Grace was calling.....from her home. Sprung from the Big House!!

After seeing the kind of treatment his mom was getting in OK City, my nephew Aaron decided he could cover the basic care if the physical therapist could come to the house. SOMEBODY agreed. So Grace is confined to the sofa - but her boys are happy to see her.

Never mind getting food that a hospital/institution won't give you!

Sundays on the Phone with Mom

My experiences in 3 months of rehab in the Payson (AZ) Care Center taught me a lot about accepting things I can't change. Things like not being free from pain, being able to move my body freely, being able to move about the building, being in a place with no family or friends whatsoever, or being able to leave that prison. I learned to adapt. When I got placed on a commode without being sure my call lights were in reach, I did'nt howl 'help me' like some residents would, because I knew the nurses and aides had become hardened to it. So: (tune: Camptown Races)

"I can't reach my call lights here, scuba, poobah,
I can't reach my call lights here, oh scuba day.
One's stuck in the can, (In the bathroom which I could not yet move myself into)
One's stuck on the left,
The third one's stuck in the middle of my bed,
Somebody help me please!"

After three repetitions help came. "Susan, you're fun-nee" said the aide. The nurses would ask me for prayer if it looked like a hard day was coming up. The only grouch I had in the room was the night nurse with the 2am bedpan, and once physical therapy proved to her that I could get out of bed without falling her mood improved immensely.

I was shocked when my mom got caught in the 'automatic' door at the Whitehall Shell/A&W/Long John Silver's and it broke her pelvis. Didn't she carry enough weight to cushion the blow? or to have her bones built up to avoid osteoporosis? This was the beginning of the end of her independent living - at age 70. She's in a wheelchair, walking hurts her back.

"Mom, it just kills me that you have to be in a home," I'd tell her. "Your mind is still there." Since I was in California, my youngest sister did the actual placement, and I'm sure she feels worse for having had to be the one to do it.

I used to feel bad about calling her - until I'd walked a mile in her shoes in Payson. I lived for calls from my kids and was overjoyed when they got up the gas money to visit - Twice. Now I make a point about calling every Sunday, and if I miss, make an extra call. She says some weeks that I'm her only "visitor".

Since my middle sister in Oklahoma fell and got lumbar fractures, she has been in rehab in Oklahoma City since August. None of her immediate family can drive from Lawton, so she's up there alone. I swipe my daughter's cell phone and set up a 3-way call. Grace is harder to get to - bedridden - so she gets a cordless phone from the nurses' station. Then I call Mom, who usually gets a push to a phone in the hall. Mom asks about the weather, the usual how's the grandkids questions, and then sits back and listens to Grace and I go at it. Mom wishes the phone had 4-way so we could include sister Deb, niece Brandy, or even Great-great-aunt Capitola, who is 105, lives with a 65-year-old granddaughter, and has cheated the nursing home twice. "Nurses in homes are so busy, Aunt Tola, that you probably get better care from Carol."

Mom and Grace got extra calls on Wednesday about the fire. Take no chances having them fret about the national news.

Lord, You sure are teaching us patience with these (medical) high-maintenance bodies!!!