Monday, February 27, 2006
The doctor got in early today to see Grandma F. I got a call a bit past 9 AM, asking which hospital we preferred. Wha?
After some conferring between the brothers and the nursing home, it was decided she'd receive her treatment right there where she is. I got there around 11:45 this morning, and she was already hooked up to an IV, and on oxygen. The most popular theory is that she's aspirating again. The speech therapist will be evaluating her later today. There's still the chance it could be something else, I guess.
When I walked in, she smiled and said, with no small amount of victory in her voice, "They can't take me out of here today!" ... holding up her hand with the IV.
Grandma F: 1
She had little to no appetite for her lunch: ground-up fried chicken, rice & gravy, green beans, and roll. She did get rid of both her water and milk though.
As soon as lunch was taken away, she slept. I hung around until around 3 PM, then told her I'd be back later in the day, around suppertime ... and came home for a bit.
I knew she was not well over the weekend, but to see the oxygen going again, and hear that cough ... it's hard not to feel sad. Lisa, the nurse, said the doctor wanted her to have 4 bags of the IV solution, and he will see her again on Thursday.
Oh ... and they came and did a chest x-ray right after lunch. I'm sure we'll get a phone call after it's read.
In other news: Tomorrow just might be the start of something big for me. Stay tuned.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Yesterday, I went first to the hair salon at Dogwood Acres. The beautician (can't bring myself to actually call her a hair stylist) was there, cutting a man's hair. I explained my situation, telling her that Grandma needed a shampoo, but didn't want to come unless I was with her. She said she'd be happy to wash her hair as soon as she was finished with the man she was working with. (That sentence sucks, sorry.)
Grandma was sleeping when I got to her room. I woke her up, and told her that Christa was going to wash her hair in a little while. She seemed ok with that, and said she wanted to go to the bathroom. Into the wheelchair, shoes on ... bathroom. She wants the light off and the door open. I have no explanation.
After she finished and washed her hands, Christa showed up. We grabbed the White Rain shampoo ... the only one Grandma will consider using ... and headed down the hall. Christa was great with Grandma ... asking her about her family, and telling her how beautiful her hair is. After the wash, she asked if Grandma would like a little trim. Grandma first refused, but then (with very little coaxing) agreed to let her "clean up around her ears".
Here's my favorite snippet of conversation from the hair salon:
Christa: "Where were you born, Mrs. F?"
Grandma: "GEORGIA! And I guess I'm going to have to swim back there, since no one will take me back."
Christa: "Why do you want to go back?"
Grandma: "Well, everything I have ever owned is in Georgia, everything I have is there, everything I want is there ..."
Me: "Grandma, I'm not there!"
Grandma: "I'm taking you with me."
Her roommate is still sick, and on oxygen. Her daughter came in while I was there yesterday and seemed a bit upset that no one had noticed that her Mom had been running a fever, until she came in and saw her Mom's face was beet-red. She asked them to take her temp, then a chest x-ray ... that's when the pneumonia was found. I wonder how long her Mom would have been without a diagnosis if she had not been coming in every single day to check on her. How could they change her briefs, reposition her in the bed, bathe her ... and not notice her fever??? Grrrr.....
And I hate to even type it out, but Grandma had a gurgly cough yesterday. I added her name to the "Doctor Book", so that the doctor can check her out on Monday when he makes the rounds there. Also alerted her nurse, although I'm not sure they will do anything. We'll see how she sounds when we get over there later today.
And speaking of beet-red, Grandma F wants all of us to eat more beets. They build your blood, don't you know.
Oh oh! I forgot the best part. While we were in the hair salon yesterday, Grandma said she thought she would like for Christa to come and get her once a week so she could get her hair washed. I said, "You mean whether I'm here to go with you or not?" She said ... drumroll please ... "You don't have to go with me. I will let her come and get me."
People, it's the small miracles that keep me going. :-)
Paula Deen has finally cooked something I wouldn't eat. I love to watch her Food Network show "Paula's Home Cooking". She's southern, and genuine ... and her oldest son is drop-dead gorgeous. Anyway, she is famous for adding butter to everything. And if it doesn't have butter, it has bacon grease. So I'm pretty much used to the fact that almost all of her recipes are as unhealthy as they can be. Unhealthy, but tasty. I have two of her cookbooks, and have enjoyed several of her fattening recipes.
This week, however, I was horrified to watch her make what she called "Bill Nicholson's Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding with Butter Rum Sauce". Oy vey, y'all. I love sugar. I do. But this made my teeth ache, and then I got lightheaded and sick to my stomach as I watched Paula take a bite of her creation.
Americans, as a whole, have gone loop-the-friggin-loop (thank you, Shirley Valentine) where food and portion sizes are concerned. We eat too damn much. We eat too much sugar. And, for the most part, we're growing wider every year. After watching Paula make this mess on her show this week, I'm thinking there's no end in sight. I wonder how many people in her audience made this diabetes-inducer for dessert this week!
I'm adding the recipe to this atrocity so you can be nauseous with me ... NOT so you can run to the kitchen to make it. Mm'K?
Bill Nicholson's Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding with Butter Rum Sauce
2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
2 (4.5-ounce) cans fruit cocktail (undrained)
2 eggs, beaten
1 (9-ounce) box raisins
1 pinch salt
1 or 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Butter Rum Sauce, recipe followsPreheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Cube donuts into a large bowl. Pour other ingredients on top of donuts and let soak for a few minutes. Mix all ingredients together until donuts have soaked up the liquid as much as possible.
Bake for about 1 hour until center has jelled. Top with Butter Rum Sauce.Butter Rum Sauce:
1 stick butter
1 pound box confectioners' sugar
Rum, to taste
Melt butter and slowly stir in confectioners' sugar. Add rum and heat until bubbly. Pour over each serving of Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding.
(Oh, the insanity.)
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Proof that I am easily influenced ... especially by my kiddos .... I'm watching CNBC coverage of US vs. Canada men's curling competition. And enjoying it. Canada leads by two points. Part of me still thinks it looks like a sport for janitors. You know, with all the sweeping.
Grandma F was sitting in her wheelchair, halfway into the bathroom. I came in and said, "Hey! What are you up to?" She answered, "I'm going in here to the bathroom." "Well," I said, "Don't you want to turn the light on?"
She answered, sort of grumpy-like, "Well I can't see. So I don't need the light!" Then I said, "Grandma, you'll need the light ... when the door is closed, it'll be pitch black in there!"
Then she turned around, smiling and says, "Oh! It's you! I thought they were coming to kidnap me. I don't really need to go to the bathroom. I was just heading in there to hide."
Yes folks, she hates therapy THAT much.
Her roommate has come down with pnuemonia, is on oxygen, and sleeping a lot.
Grandma will not consider leaving her room, even to take a "walk" with me pushing her wheelchair. She's too afraid she won't get to come back exactly when she wants to. She also won't agree to another hair-washing appointment, for the same reason. I guess I'll go over on Friday afternoon, when the hairdresser is there, and see if she can take Grandma to the salon while I'm there. That's the only way she'd agree to getting her hair washed ... during shower time is out of the question.
We talked again about why she's here, and not in Georgia. I'm trying to be so gentle and calm with her when we talk about it ... mostly just listening to her. Seems to upset her less that way.
I watched a PBS show called Almost Home last night. It highlighted a nursing home community whose administrator, John George, is trying to change the way the institutionalized elderly live. From the website: "His goal is to transform the way people see nursing homes—not as institutions of boredom and despair but as vibrant communities where residents live rich and fulfilling lives." I was mesmerized. I love the way this man thinks. He says, "The baby boomers need to really start to think about if they themselves never want to be in an institution the way it looks today, then what can they do to change it?"
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
We had dinner with Emilie on Friday, and dinner with Adam and Brandy on Saturday. Nice, both times. Even got a mini curling primer from Adam. He's right, it's fun to watch. We watched a DVD of the 2000 Clemson marching band ... with both Brandy and Adam in it, only before they met.
Me: "This is so cool ... we were all there, and had no idea we were videotaping our son's wife and the mother of our grandchildren!"
Brandy: "FUTURE grandchildren!!! Sheesh!!"
Did I mention that Brandy prepared for us some mighty tasty Cosmopolitans? Yum.
Sunday was crappier than crappy, which will happen when two old crappy people try to share the same space. I tried to watch "In Her Shoes", and fell asleep before it was over.
Seems like I come late to the party every time, but Adam and Brandy brought the first season of "Lost" on DVD over here last night, so I could become addicted. One episode in, I like it. Maybe I'll be caught up by the time the 3rd season begins. If they release Season 2 in a timely manner, that is.
Haircut and color for me tomorrow morning. And not a moment too soon. Actually, several moments late.
On Friday, I got into a tiny altercation with a Yuppie Passive-Aggressive Asshole in the middle of the Sam's Club book aisle. I don't know what threw me more ... the fact that this guy confronted me, or the fact that my own husband stood back and didn't say anything. I don't know what I expected, but I was disappointed to feel alone there when he was standing nearby.
On the extremely-off chance that the Yuppie Passive-Aggressive Asshole is reading this:
You saw me waiting to pass by. Your cart was blocking the aisle. It seems like it might have been simpler to stop your all-important cell phone conversation and move your cart to the side, than to grumble loudly into the phone that some bitch had just tapped your cart with hers trying to get past you. The fact that you decided, at THAT time, to pause your phone conversation to announce to me that I might have said "Excuse me" to you ... well, that's when you started sounding like Whiny McTinyDick to me. Everything you said after that was impossible to understand ... you were speaking Jerkwad, and I only speak English. Sorry.
I hope you had a nice afternoon after proving what a big boy you are.
At least it disproved my growing theory that the fatter I get, the more invisible I become. That particular asshole saw me. Heh.
What's for dinner? What do I look like, a housewife???
Friday, February 17, 2006
The Friday Five
1. If you could go back and relive one moment or day from your life, without changing anything, what would you re-experience?
A summer day from the early 90’s or late 80’s … when we’re all gathered at the beach house in
2. If you could witness a moment in history, again without changing anything, what would you want to see?
(This question is a repeat, I remember answering it not too long ago.) I’d go back and witness
3. If you could talk to a younger version of yourself, what age would you visit and what message would you give?
I’d go back and tell 16-year-old Dawn that she doesn’t have to “have a boyfriend” to be happy. I’d tell her to finish college and get her nursing degree. I’d tell her, for future reference, that perms are not her friend. I’d tell her to eat right and exercise. But I’d tell her she’s NOT FAT. I’d tell her to stop worrying what other people think about her. And I’d tell her that life never stays bad, things always get better … and the bad stuff happens for a reason. It makes you stronger and wiser.
4. If you could choose one moment that would be guaranteed to happen in your future, what would it be and when would it happen?
Oh yeah, that wonderful day when I win 75 million in the lottery, and I reach my goal weight ... TOMORROW!
5. Pretend you left a time capsule for yourself 5, 10, 15, 20 or more years ago. You just opened it. What three things from your past are you now holding and what age were you when you buried them?
I’m holding my first Barbie doll with the brunette helmet hairdo (I got her for Christmas in 1964), my 45 RPM single of “These Boots Are Made For Walking” by Nancy Sinatra, and my white go-go boots (I can’t believe Frances let me have those things … with white fishnet stockings!!!). The year was 1967, and I was 8 years old.
The doctor himself called me yesterday afternoon, and said that we didn’t have to bring Grandma in today. In fact, we don’t have to go either. Score. He said that her B12, folate, and iron levels are normal … meaning that the anemia is likely being caused by the leukemia itself, and not a vitamin deficiency. He said that for a 93-year-old lady with leukemia, she is in awesome condition.
She was hard to wake up yesterday when I visited. But when she did wake up, she told me she had been exploring her bathroom, and moving around the room in her wheelchair earlier. When the aide came in, she confirmed this … saying that Grandma had been really active and independent all day.
Today is Jimmy’s off-Friday. I think we will make a trip to the storage building to search for a few more wearable shirts for Grandma, as well as her bottom teeth. Silly me, I thought since she NEVER wore them, we could pack them away and reduce some clutter in her room. Think again. She never wears them, but she wants them in the drawer, dammit. So we’ll find the teeth, and some different clothes and visit with her for a while.
Then I think we’ll do some grocery shopping, maybe do a Sam’s run. The NOAA weather site says a snow/sleet weekend is coming. Of course it’s sunny now, and will be in the mid-60’s this afternoon.
That is all.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I would like to go ahead and get the trip to the skilled nursing facility over with for today though. And I'd like to be able to tell Grandma F if we're taking her to the doctor or not while I'm there. Hurry up and wait, Dawn.
Miss Em was in town yesterday for a doctor's appointment. She was gone again before I got a good look at her though.
If you missed it the first time it aired, Fox is re-airing the Marguerite "GARGILES AND SLYKIKS!" Perrin episode of "Trading Spouses" tomorrow night from 8 to 10 PM. I only saw the final meltdown the first time it aired, so I can't wait to see the whole thing. That Marguerite, she's a loonytoon God Warrior.
I had to call the bank this morning to enlighten them about a mistake they made on my statement last month. My records showed the check was written for $20, and they had deducted $200 instead. They advised me to go to my local branch and speak with someone in person. Before I got in the car, I took another look at my records so I could show them everything and get my $180 back.
So I make bookkeeping mistakes occasionally. It could happen to anyone.
Still no call from the stupid Cancer Center. Like they have more important things to do today!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
It's taken me several years to come to the following certainty: I hate February. It drags on and on and ON. The holidays are over, so the cold weather feels depressing. The neighborhood association dues must be paid before the end of the month. There's a forced "Be Romantic" day. The jonquils poke green shoots out of the ground, and then it snows on them. The car insurance is due. And this year, there's the Winter Olympics, too. Ugh.
I took some flowers over to Dogwood Acres today ... a pink hyacinth for the nurse's desk, and a red rose in a vase being hugged by a stuffed pink poodle for Grandma F. She smiled. :-)
She was kidnapped today and forced to attend a Valentine's Party, where she received a handmade card and a little stuffed bear. Torture!!!
Mark my words ... tomorrow is the 15th of February, right? It will be SIX WEEKS before it's March 1st. Stupid dragging February.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Grandma F was not in her room this afternoon ... she was still in the therapy room. (This was after 2 PM.) I waited, instead of walking around to where she was. I was pacing in the hallway when she rounded the corner, walking with a walker. When the aide said, "Look Mrs. F, there's your granddaughter," Grandma started crying. She said they had kidnapped her and the police would be picking them up later today.
She sat in her wheelchair while we waited for clean sheets for her bed. She washed her hands so we could do a manicure, and we got her nails nice and smooth again. She drank some iced tea, and settled into her clean sheeted bed ... ahhh, much happier. For some reason, she wanted to talk about her daughter today. She talked, I listened.
I got a really good hug when I left there just now.
Hoping the snowbound ones are having a safe time on the roads today.
A friend of Emilie's was sent off to Afghanistan yesterday. I've been thinking of him a lot today. I wish they could all just come home.
That's all I got.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Quiet Saturday here ... just popped in here to show you my latest heartbreak.
Here's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry ... a few years ago, to be sure ... but looking every bit the rock 'n roll gods they are. My all-caps CRUSH has always been for Steven, but you have to admit ... Joe and his guitar are worthy. Yes.
Please explain this to me. The picture below was taken after the Grammy Awards the other night.
While Steven still looks like the crazyman I love --- Joe? What fresh hell is THAT? Is that what manorexia looks like? My heart is broken, and I am mailing him a box of homemade cookies immediately. This madness must end.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Damn you, Rascal Flatts. Why must you continually reduce me to "the ugly cry" with every song and video you release?
Sarabeth is scared to death
To hear what the doctor will say
She hasn't been well
Since the day that she fell
And the bruise, it just won't go away
So she sits and she waits with her mother and dad
Flips through an old magazine
Till the nurse with a smile
Stands at the door
And says will you please come with me
Sarabeth is scared to death
Cause the doctor just told her the news
Between the red cells and white
Something's not right
But we're gonna take care of you
Six chances in ten it won't come back again
With the therapy were gonna try
It's just been approved
It's the strongest there is
I think we caught it in time
Sarabeth closes her eyes
And she dreams she's dancing
Around and around without any cares
And her very first love is holding her close
And the soft wind is blowing her hair
Sarabeth is scared to death
As she sits holding her mom
Cause it would be a mistake
For someone to take
A girl with no hair to the prom
For, just this morning right there on her pillow
Was the cruelest of any surprise
And she cried when she gathered it all in her hands
The proof that she couldn't deny
Sarabeth closes her eyes
And she dreams she's dancing
Around and around without any cares
And her very first love was holding her close
And the soft wind is blowing her hair
Its quarter to seven
That boy's at the door
And her daddy ushers him in
And when he takes off his cap
They all start to cry
Cause this mornin where his hair had been
Softly she touches just skin
And they go dancin
Around and around without any cares
And her very first true love is holding her close
And for a moment she isn't scared
Was a little disappointed last night to find out that I won't get to enjoy weekly Jeff-Probst-viewing in HD. Survivor isn't, but CSI is. All the better to see the gore and guts, my pretty.
Grandma F was not talkative today ... cound be because I woke her from some pretty deep sleep. The room was darkened, and both ladies were far away in dreamland. I put away the clean clothes, and straightened things ... then turned on the light and woke her as gently as I could. Would have been just as easy to leave quietly, but she made me promise I wouldn't ever do that. Can she read my mind? Hmm.
The aide met me coming in and asked me to try and convince her to take her shower this evening. Of course when I brought it up, Grandma scowled and said, "That's the best way I know of to get pnuemonia. All that water in my eyes and nose and ears." Sigh.
The nurse brought her afternoon meds in ... she still refuses to take her afternoon dose of Colace. Why? Well, because she has ALWAYS taken only one of those a day. That's why. And apparently, if it didn't happen ALWAYS, it ain't happenin' now. She asked what the Aricept was for ... I told her it was to make her brain keep working right. She swallowed that one down. Just for future reference, the Lexapro is to keep her nerves healthy.
I didn't stay very long today. My cold is nasty, and I couldn't think of a darn thing to talk about. Maybe tomorrow.
A note to Someone Special: This too shall pass. Take one day at a time, and be strong in yourself. It'll be alright! Treat yourself like the one-of-a-kind treasure that you are. And don't settle for less than you want ... or deserve. :-)
Thursday, February 09, 2006
So I came here to snark. Here's my list:
* Madonna. Oh Madge, you know I adore you. But please honey, put on some pants. Her eyes looked scary ... several times I thought of Bette Davis' Baby Jane when there would be a closeup of Madonna's face. Aging sucks. But she still has my TOTAL attention when she's on my TV screen.
* Keith Urban is just a big ole platter of yummified hotness.
* There is nothing more adorable than Kelly Clarkson. She's unpretentious, she's real, and she can sing. I loved her even more when I saw her take her purse onstage to accept her Grammys.
* Who is John Legend?
* Green Day, Record Of The Year, Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Yes.
* Sheryl Crow's chest is painfully bony.
* Ellen, introducing Paul McCartney: "This man needs no introduction." Then she left the stage. Perfect!
* When the Linkin Park guy started singing "Yesterday", I wondered if he got all nervous singing that when Paul was in the building. Then Paul walked onstage to sing it with him. I'm all about the Paul Love.
* Springsteen ... wonderful performance. Only when the camera was on his right, the way the lighting was ... well, he looked just like Bob Dylan. Not good.
* Speaking of Paul McCartney ... and why not? To this old lady, one of the highlights of the show was Paul rocking to Helter Skelter. Excellent.
* The Sly and The Family Stone tribute was a steamy mess. Sly needed a wheelchair with a neck support. His mohawk was too heavy. He tried to sing and take part in his tribute ... but eventually you could tell he was just muttering "wtf" while he shuffled offstage before the song was even over. Too funny.
* U2, the big weiners of the night. Eh.
* Kanye West. I waited all night to see the performance of Gold Digger ... love that song. I knew it would involve watching Kanye, since it's his song ... and I was willing to put up with that. I thought I was, anyway. I should have known that his GIANT EGO would ruin it for me. What an ass. I discovered that I enjoy the song on the radio ONLY. That way I don't have to see his smug "Don't I look like Jesus?" face.
I bet Jimmy is yawning at work today.
I haven't updated since Grandma F's Monday appointment at the Cancer Center. Getting her there was the biggest hurdle. When we arrived at Dogwood Acres, I could hear Grandma in her room, almost screaming "Help me, help me!!" I went in to find the poor CNA trying her best to gently get Grandma dressed and ready for her appointment. Grandma's hands were clamped around the siderails of her bed so tightly, neither one of us could get her to let go. When she saw it was me, she started crying and telling me that the CNA was trying to kidnap her. It took lots of calm talking to get her to settle down. *sigh*
The actual appointment ended up taking the entire afternoon. They drew a lot of blood, and after the doctor took an initial look at it, we were told that she's got Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. And probably has had it for a while. There won't be any treatment ... the doctor said that, even in a younger patient, there is often no treatment given for this particular cancer. He wants to see her again at the end of next week ... I need to call and find out if she really needs to be there, or if the appointment is to hear the final results of all the blood tests. Because if she really doesn't need to be there, I'm all for leaving her where she's happiest ... her bed!
When I went in yesterday, I was stopped by both a CNA and her afternoon nurse ... both wanting to tell me about her latest ornery behaviour. I told Grandma that everyone there is beginning to think she is a crabby old lady. Maybe that will snap her back into a cooperative frame of mind. I think she cares what others think and say about her.
A few days ago, one of the aides told me what they really are saying about her ... "Awww no, I've got Mrs. F again today! I just had her two days ago!" :-( Not good.
Hypochondriac Update: I've got a head cold.
Monday, February 06, 2006
And no, ABC (Super Bowl broadcaster) isn't one of them.
Adam and Brandy came and watched the game with us. We ate healthy Weight Watcher's Super Bowl food ... raw veggies, fresh fruit, grilled chicken, baked potatoes ... yay, us. It was hard to get all worked up over a football game with teams we didn't really care about. We decided to cheer for Seattle, since one of their starters was a former Clemson player. Oh well.
And the half-time show was the suck. I never was a fan of the Stones, even when they were alive. I agree with a fellow blogger, who said this morning, "How about letting the drum corps world champs do the half-time show?" Now THAT would have been a half-time show. Stupid Super Bowl planners.
Favorite Super Bowl commercial: "Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" preview. (one word: JohnnyDepp)
My future today holds a trip to the hematologist with Grandma F. This should be fun. She was an ornery thang this weekend, refusing meds and tests willynilly. We decided that, should she refuse to go today, that we will not get upset about it. The decision is hers, and if she makes a bad one, and no amount of upset on our part can change things ... then why go through the upset? I wonder though ... when does she go from being seen as a competent adult who can make her own choices to a woman suffering from dementia who can no longer make rational choices for herself?
Because, in our minds, she's already there.
My hands look like I danced with Edward Scissorhands (one word: JohnnyDepp) last night. It's like I forgot how to use a knife. I even impaled my hand on a steak knife while loading the dishwasher.
I watched "Titanic" for the 47th time on Saturday night ... and cried like a baby. Again.
Woke up with a sore throat today ... I'm comforted by the fact that I've felt that "coming down with something" thing for days now, and the sore throat means I'm not a total hypochondriac.
We can stop with the sore throat though. Thanks.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Gray skies and bare trees ... the sight from my kitchen table today. Maybe I should take the laptop into the den so I won't be tempted to sing a sad Natalie Merchant song for you.
Insomnia Update: I fell asleep around 3 AM this morning, and that's better than nothing. I changed my "sleep number" to a rather mashed-potato-like 35, and decided I liked it. Sorta like my own air-cocoon.
Before falling asleep, I watched Turner Classic Movies ... "Cactus Flower" with Goldie Hawn and Walter Matthau. Every year, as Oscar time grows near, TCM shows the better movies. Not that this was a "better movie", but it was one I had not seen before. Fun, in a goofy 1969 way ... I especially liked the disco scene, where everyone danced to instrumental versions of Monkees hits. Yikes.
I think I'll keep up with what TCM is showing between now and March, and record some of the better ones with Jimmy's DVD recorder ... if he'll help me figure out how to program the thing.
It's Survivor Night! Exciting to only me, I suppose. Most of America has grown tired of The Tribe Speaking, but not me baby. Mainly I just get happy because it means I can see Jeff Probst once a week again. But this season, I'll be cheering on a hometown chick: Ruth Marie ... I can't give her total love because she's a former Gamecock, but we can't all be perfect. She's a mom, in her 40's, and she could kick my ass. Go, Ruth Marie!
A Twilight Zone Moment, brought to you courtesy of my visit with Grandma F yesterday:
Grandma, laying in her bed and staring at the wall: "I want ... you ... to get that owl picture ... and put on the back ... Made by Geraldine in the 1980's ... and for Jimmy, James ... anytime he gets to feeling ... wary ... he can look ... and those owls ... those 3 owls will be watching. And for Dawn ... Stark (at this point she cut her eyes over to look at me really fast, to make sure I was still there listening?) Dawn Stark ... anytime she is feeling ... you know, wondering ... she can look at the three owls. They will be watching. And put on there ... For Christmas 2005 ... From Grandma."
God bless her heart, she's talking about a large piece of crewel work she did ... it has owls on a tree branch. And back at Shady Acres, she started asking me to find a large piece of white paper, so I could write something on the back of that frame for her. Now, as best as I can figure, she wanted to give it to me and Jimmy for Christmas. Awww.
Except now I won't be able to look at the 3 owls without thinking they are "watching" me.
Oh God ... I hope "Survivor" isn't on at the same time as "Dancing With The Stars" ... just one more thing to come between a husband and wife!
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
That's what I thought.
So, yeah. Insomnia. It started again in earnest during the worst of the kidney infection, but it's still hanging around this week. Our new bed is so very comfy, and I just don't understand why I can't fall asleep at a reasonable hour. I sleep OK between 5 AM and 7AM. And I can usually fall asleep again between 7 AM and 8:30 AM. But man, I have some freaky dreams in that hour and a half. It's almost not worth the extra sleep.
Surprise ... I'm whining again. What would I write about if I wasn't complaining about something?
Grandma F was seen by the psych yesterday, and was started on 2 new drugs ... Aricept for the dementia, and Lexapro for depression. It'll take weeks, but I'll be the first to let you know if there's a change.
Jimmy visited with her yesterday after work ... his hair was still smoking when he got home. She was NOT happy. And it didn't help things when Jimmy tried to encourage her to go to therapy. "I WILL GO TO THERAPY WHEN I GET BACK TO GEORGIA!!"
Oh man, I can't wait to see her later today. :-/
Hey, it's February.
We watched "Crash" last weekend ... I don't think Jimmy liked it as much as I did. It took a while for me to adjust to the fast pace between seemingly-unrelated storylines. Of course, in the end, they were all related ... and the message was a good one. Loved Sandra Bullock in her role ... she made me cry.
I have one more episode to watch from The Sopranos, Season 5. I think I'm delaying watching it so that I won't have to wait so long before Season 6 starts. In March, right? Oh, I hope it starts in March. Please let it start in March.
Tony: "Carmela, there's something I gotta confess ... what are you doing?"
Carmela: "Getting my wine in position to throw in your damn face!"