The sweet smell of success...

Today I was offered a 26-hour-per-week, permanent/renewable position as a Writing Tutor at the community college where I'm teaching the remedial writing class. The position is wonderful, the pay is reasonable, and I like the two people I'd be working with/for. Since it's tutoring with some administrative work, there will be no take-home work, which is good for my writing. This opportunity is the residual of the interviews I had in May and June for the Writing Center Coordinator position. Apparently they were sufficiently impressed with me, to the point where they said they wanted "to get me before anyone else could." That is a direct quote.

I start in January, and I will have summers off so I can go teach in Korea or where ever. An opportunity to teach screenwriting in Korea next summer has opened up, so I'm trying to make that work, but if not, I already have an offer to teach an ESL class at the community college (though the hours are strenuous and pay is low for that - still it's better than washing the priests' undies).

I might actually be able to make a decent living next year! And that's good for everyone, because Bizarro wants to go back to school full time, and my combined salaries will allow that to happen.

I am grateful and ecstatic. I know my Mom would be so happy and proud of me.

Clannad banishes demons - who knew?

Last night I had one of many recent nightmares that involves me fighting off ghosts/demons. The dreams take place in a house - sometimes one I lived in, sometimes one I've made up in my head - and my Mom is always there. She is alive but weak. Sometimes there are other people around, sometimes not. But it is always up to me to fight the demons. I pray to Green Tara, I drag out rosaries and crucifixes in the dream, but nothing seems to work. The demons never hurt us, they're just wicked creepy. And the dream always results in me waking in the middle of the night covered in sweat.

This morning Bizarro helped me to decode these dreams, and then I was able to do something I haven't been able to since Mom died. I played one of her CDs that have been sitting on my shelf since January. I actually gave her many of these CDs, and we'd listen to them when I would come over on Sunday to have dinner and play Scrabble. I tried listening to one of them back in February or thereabouts, and I couldn't do it. It was too much.

I feel like I'm working through the next layer of grief. About a month ago I was feeling very bad - sad all the time, not wanting to see anyone. Depressed, actually. The beginning of the school year has helped me regain some personal focus, but these issues are still there, and they've been coming out in the form of these dreams. I am hoping now that I've decoded them, played a Clannad CD that was my Mom's, and gone to the cemetery (last weekend, for the first time since the burial), I will sleep better at night.

In all seriousness I have nothing to be grumpy about. Our financials are looking up with Bizarro's bonus and my paychecks being stronger than I'd anticipated. We're on a budget and it's working out well. I've been writing and getting things done.

But last night I realized was 6 months to the day (Wed. the 22nd) that Mom died. I had a hard time falling asleep anyway because it's so damned muggy and gross, but then weird shit kept happening.

Weird shit? you ask. Yeah like a pile of pots and pans that I need to bring to Salvo suddenly fell over on it's own. I kept hearing things that, with my earplugs on, I couldn't tell what they were. (I know that's a grammatically fucked up sentence but I don't care.) I got up numerous times and at one point saw a centipede crossing the room. SERIOUSLY? A centipede. EW GROSS. I had to dispatch the centipede or there was no way I was ever going to sleep. Just a really frickin' aweful night. And of course these things always happen the night before I have to get up and clean house at the rectory, so that I'm a zombie.

And that's where I'm off to now. My head feels like a trash compacter, only instead of trash it's snot. This weather is killing me.

But on the bright side, we are going to Massachusetts next month so there's something to look forward to. I hope there's some decent weather when we get there.

Oh crap time to go to work.

Abundance

Trying to see what I can learn in the muck of this summer. Not having a job I thought I had, doing odd jobs to make ends meet hand to mouth, probably having to cancel the tiny trip to Massachusetts that Bizarro and I had planned for next month (I'm still holding out hope that somehow we can swing it, but it doesn't look good).

Being aware of the bounty in my life is the thing that strikes me here. I have a tendency to see the glass half empty and continuing to drain away. I don't see the good things all around me. I only see things I don't have, or want to have, or what other people have that I feel I deserve because they're no better than me.

And that usually turns into a self-flagellating episode where I go over every "bad" decision I've ever made, and I become despondent and helpless. It's a vicious cycle of negativity that I MUST break if I'm ever going to make my life a better place to live.

I've started an "abundance list" and I keep adding to it. I carry it around in my purse so it's there for me to visit when I start the "poor me" vibes begin to escalate.

I know everyone is having a hard time; these economic times suck for everyone. But I also know that I've been in this cycle of poverty consciousness pretty much from my early 20s, no matter what the economy was doing. This is what I need to remember: let the past go and only see the bounty that is in my life at present, as I make my way into the future.

The truth of the matter is that this poverty consciousness (as I call it) isn't just unique to me. I see others in my family, including my Mother, with some of the same patterns and traits. It's up to me to break this, for my Mom as well as myself and my husband.

Get off my back!

I know it's been awhile and I have a bunch to catch up on.

My vacay in lovely Massachusetts was truly remarkable. I spent lots of QT with myself, family, friends, and the ocean. Had a magnificent stay at the Clarion Nantasket hotel for 2 nights on the beach, went to a longboard competition, hung out in a surf shop taking notes for my planned TV pilot, did some impromptu ghost hunting at a Revolutionary War bunker (and I think caught me an EVP, though so far only brother has been able to hear what I heard on the video clip). I also had lots of baby time with Erin and May, and played with Owen as much as I could. Got to hang out with PMP in Boston, saw Fenway Park, had drinks at the Bleacher Bar, ate lots of seafood, went to Plymouth on my last day, a very rainy day, with one of my recently former students, and got to hang with Rache at my beach hotel for a night.

Coming home - well. So. Reality setting in. A class to teach starting Monday - for which I am grateful, especially since apparently it WASN'T a done deal until yesterday. I got the call to teach and I was like "welll yeahhhh I've been planning on it." So anyway, it's all good.

Still no idea where I'm teaching this fall. I have started a preliminary job search in the Boston/South Shore area. I had two (count 'em) interviews while I was there, with little to no effort on my part. One was for an ESL teaching position with some possibility for long-term work, the other as a communications specialist for a company that does research and fund-raising for MS cures (among other things).

I really don't know where things are heading right now. Some serious thinking and decision making coming up in the coming months. I am feeling more disheartened than ever here in the City on the Edge of Forever (yeah, I didn't get that job at the community college after all). After 3.5 years of searching I've had maybe 4 interviews. A week in Mass. and I get 2 interviews without even really trying.

And truth is, no place has ever felt like home to me other than the South Shore. At the same time, change is scary. I've lived here longer than anyplace else in recent history. Despite how unhappy I often am with this area (weather, cold dark apartment, allergies, isolation, lack of career opportunity, lack of the ocean, etc.) it's in many ways easier to keep on in the same direction than to try a new one. God knows I've moved so often in my life. It would be nice to feel settled with a home base. I'm just not convinced that "here" is where my home base should be.

A little much to think about right now, I know. I'm still dealing with Mom's death and the giant hole it's left in my life. Perhaps that is why I feel so attracted to my family right now, especially the grand-babies. I missed my nephew's growing up and I really hate the thought of missing theirs.

For the time being I'm just trying to get myself geared up for the summer teaching job and will see how some of this other stuff lands. Getting myself back into a schedule will feel really good. The pool is open, so I will swim and go for walks and continue working on my fitness/weight loss plan. I am very bummed that I have no time or money for the windsurfing beginners clinic this weekend. Still I'm sure there'll be other opportunities, and I'm also thinking I want to try my hands at kayaking this summer. And of course Yoga. Making the most of where I am and what I have at my disposal for the summer. The rest will be dealt with in good time...

In Memorium

Today's about catching up the last week lost to The Sickness. Housework, laundry, and also getting a reading picked out for Mom's interment this Friday. Big Bro and his Wiffen are arriving on Wednesday, so I want the place to be ready for them. Peege and Beck are here Thursday, staying in a hotel. I am really looking forward to having my family around me again.

And of course I'm chomping at the bit to get to Mass. We've decided not to waste over $700 on an eleven-year-old car that keeps cropping up new problems. If I get this job I'm waiting for, I will purchase a good pre-owned car and leave this one to Bizarro for in-town driving. It is more economical to rent a used car via the place we've done before and have a safe, solid car to drive out in. I had thought to ride with Peege and family and rent a wreck when I got to Mass, but I need the alone time that driving can offer me. Road-tripping with my bad self.

I am ready for adventure, new sights, new experiences, new thoughts, new feelings, new insights. Let the Games begin!

I have arranged to spend some time at a surf shop in Scituate to do some research for the TV pilot I'm still working up. Gotta get some real-life people to inspire this thing. Also going to take a stab at writing a rom com this summer, which is way out of my comfort zone, but I need to change things up from the artsy/fantasy stuff for a bit. My manager friend says my idea so far is pretty conventional, so I need to spice it up. And you know in rom com spice often = raunch. Not so sure how well I can write raunch. I'll get back to you on that.

Closing a chapter

May is about closing a chapter, or rather a couple of chapters. It's the end of the semester, as you know, and I am now in charge of reading and grading 28 feature length script portfolios. I am sad and relieved at the same time to be getting ready to say goodbye to my students this semester, even more than usual. There were times over the last four months that teaching and seeing them and watching them work was the only thing that kept me going. I am grateful to them for that gift. But of course as always, it's time for them and me to move on. I am relieved because in other ways it was harder than ever to focus on my work and push through the times I just didn't want to move.

Another chapter feels like it's coming to a close at the end of this month, when we will bury Mom's cremains. My brother and I talked about this just a couple days ago, and how as that date comes nearer, we have both felt the reality of her loss more keenly. We've both been depressed and have both withdrawn from the world and from each other, but we agree that at this point it would be better for us to talk more regularly and share what we are each feeling. He said it perfectly the other night on the phone: I've lost my center.

This summer will be about getting back some of that centeredness. I am really looking forward to my time in Massachusetts in June for that very purpose.

Writing Retreat - Day 1b

Today was difficult to crank up. I realized I'd left some important stuff at home so I took 30 minutes to run home for them. Came back and had difficulty focusing. Then it finally hit me later on - the last time I spent 5 days in that space was the week before Mom died. I hate to keep beating that drum, but it just goes to show you how far-reaching this has been. I cried on the drive home. Then stopped for Ben and Jerry's chocolate ice cream. I'm hoping that acknowledging those feelings and venting them a bit will make tomorrow feel a little more like a writing day. I DID get some good work done tonight, although I didn't finish my goal for the day.

If I'm not feeling substantially better tomorrow, I will ask about moving into a different studio (the one downstairs from my current space). We'll see how it washes.

Now am very tired even with the time change so I think I'll zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Back in the Saddle (again)

Taught my two sections of screenwriting at the Other School on the Hill last night. They went well; some great students in both sections with original story ideas. This morning will teach my short film writing class at the community college - looking forward to that.

It felt weird to be back at work at first, but by the time I got into my first class things felt normal and by the end of class, I felt good. "Oh yeah, this is what I do," sorta thing.

Still cleaning up loose ends for Mom, like closing out her bank account and sending out copies of the death certificate to various institutions. I will be very grateful when this phase is done. It is very unpleasant. At the bank yesterday I had a difficult time maintaining my composure; it just seemed to make her death more "real."

We will have Mom's ashes interred on May 29th with a graveside ceremony and a reception afterwards. Any friends who read this here blog want to know more, you know how to reach me. I'll also be sending out a general announcement.

I am looking forward to a couple good getaway weekends at the end of the month/beginning of next month (Rache is flying me to Cape Cod and Bizarro and I made reservations weeks ago for Splash Lagoon for our anniversary). This weekend I had to back out of plans to attend a spa day with friends of mine for a birthday party, thanks to Ms. Car Thang's $420 damage. We now have to use two keys - one for the locks, one for the ignition. "1978 called. They want their car technology back."

All in all I'd say I'm not doing too badly. At the moment. Moments come and go, you know. Thanks to everyone who's reached out to me, especially Black Jack, if you're out there.

Lawsuit Waiting to Happen

Turns out the pain drug that has been making mom hallucinate and go in and out of reality, Ultram (Tramadol) has severe interactions with anti depressants - Mom is on the generic version of Lexapro.

"GENERALLY AVOID: The coadministration of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) with tramadol, which has weak serotonin reuptake inhibiting effect, may potentiate the risk of serotonin syndrome, which is a rare but serious and potentially fatal condition thought to result from hyperstimulation of brainstem 5HT1A receptors. Patients receiving this combination may also have an increased risk of seizures. (there's more but it gets technical)...

MANAGEMENT: In general, the concomitant use of SSRIs and tramadol should be avoided if possible, or otherwise approached with caution if potential benefit is deemed to outweigh the risk. Patients treated with the combination should be closely monitored for signs and symptoms of excessive serotonergic activity such as CNS irritability, altered consciousness, confusion, myoclonus, ataxia, abdominal cramping, hyperpyrexia, shivering, pupillary dilation, diaphoresis, hypertension, and tachycardia." (My emphasis on symptoms she has displayed.)

http://www.healthline.com/druginteractions?addItem=traMADOL

This information is found other places, including the PDR Nurse's Drug Handbook, which is what is allegedly used at this shit hole nursing home.

I have alerted the night nurse to this and she is leaving a note for the nurse practitioner. I have stated I want the Tramadol d/c'd, not the antidepressant, with Extra Strength Tylenol for her arthritis pain. I will follow up in the morning before Mom is due for the next dose at 8:30.

This morning when I got there around 9:00, she was pretty lucid and able to converse with me, but within an hour after the drug took affect, she was back to seeing people not there, waving her arms in the air with her eyes half closed, and barely able to speak English as opposed to gibberish.

Utterly fucking horrifying. Get ready kids, cause this is probably what's in store for us when it's our turn, unless the system changes.

On a separate, Mom-related note, I called hospice today. I don't know if she will qualify, but I do know that if we can get the extra support, it would be very helpful. With a little extra TLC, and a different plan to manage her pain, she may even bounce back a little. She did eat today, and seems to want to get better, so this is at least something to be grateful for - she hasn't given up.

And now I'm going to try to go to bed after an exhausting, frustrating day.

Surf's Up!

My obsession with surfing and windsurfing continues. Got myself on the listserv for the local windsurfing club, and have been reading voraciously. Went to the Ginormous Liberry Sale and picked up a couple used books on surfing, one on windsurfing, and one on Yoga. (I loves me the Ginormous Liberry Sale).

So yesterday I did the deed, finally. I spoke with my supervisor about my unhappiness with the full-time position and she was very gracious and understanding, and said she wasn't totally surprised. She knew when I went full-time that I may not like it, but figured she'd keep me for as long as possible. She indicated there may be a possibility to cut me back to 2 days a week like I was before, if they can hire a good person for the other 3. That would be ideal, since I have two sections to teach next semester, but we shall see. In any event, things feel much lighter for me now.

Unfortunately, this week was made more stressful by the fact that Mom went into the hospital on Monday, but she's coming home tomorrow. First she was to go home yesterday, then they pushed it to "the weekend" and finally we found out this morning that they're springing her tomorrow. I will spend tomorrow and overnight in Elmira and get her to dialysis on Monday morning before heading back to the City on the Edge of Forever. Thankfully, Monday is a holiday so I don't have to work and I can be there for Mom in the pinch.

And THEN on Thursday I'm off to Mass! Found another Tiki-themed restuarant to hit while I'm out there. I'll be sure to file a report when I get back.

Today is GLORIOUS and we spent a lovely morning at the farmers' market before hitting the book sale. I'm getting to all the things that have lain moldy all week - laundry, haus kleening, shopping, etc. today. Will chill out this evening with my man (Bizarro, that is) and my surfing books.

A few things to look forward to in the coming months:

Massachusetts: Family, beach, Tiki, Place Where I Was Birthed.

Halloween - we're going on a "haunted tour" of our fair city and will be doing so in costume. I'm pretty sure I'll be the Queen of Hearts (I've always wanted to do that) and Bizarro nabbed himself a Burger King mask (creepy).

Mom's Move - it won't be fun, but the work is worth the enjoyment we'll receive afterwards.

Thanksgiving - to Cleveland! Filipino food and all our favorite Cleveland places: Caribou Coffee, Chipotle, and the frozen Erie shore.

New Year's - to Cleveland again! And on the way we are stopping at the Splash Lagoon overnight for a faux-tropical paradise with many Tiki elements to soak up.

For the moment, I feel like I can breathe again, and there's a great wave coming in for me to ride!

JC Penney's Ain't So Bad

Last Saturday I took Mom shopping because she's lost so much weight, her clothes don't fit her any more. She's always loved shopping at Penney's (formerly JC Penney's but now it's just Penney's) so that's where we went. I was surprised at the upscaleness of the place when we walked in. It had been a long time since I last stepped foot in the Penney's, mainly because it's a 45 minute drive a few towns over and I just couldn't be bothered. They had "door buster" sales in progress, and the clothes didn't seem so awful. The women's bathroom had been remodeled from the stank-hole it was when I was a teenager, and it didn't even smell like a urinal!

Mom found a couple pairs of pants and a couple tops, and I found an exercise jacket (black and purple - I like!). It was a very productive trip. I realized that I needn't be so hard on Penney's because apparently they've cleaned up their act.

So now I will heap my retail scorn upon The Bon Ton. First of all, what the fuck kind of name is Bon Ton? Mind you, here in upstate NY, it's pronounced "BAHN TAHN" and it makes me shudder even thinking about it (so much for the linguist). Secondly, their store looks like crap. There are always tables of complete crap clogging up the tiny aisles, and the clothes are always a mess, and the service is utter crap. In comparison, Penney's is like Nieman Marcus.

I am exhausted from this entry. I'm home sick and clearly have nothing better to write about at the moment. It is a beautiful late-summer/early-fall day and I'm cozied up with a comforter and my laptop on the couch. Writing about 2nd rate and 3rd rate department stores.

New shit has come to light

Had a good counseling session yesterday, which uncovered a couple interesting things. A lot of the trauma I'm feeling with Mom's mortality is very much linked to the 11-year-old me who didn't get to grieve Dad.

I have a memory from his interment at the cemetery. Somehow, I wasn't up front next to Mom, where I should have been. My only memory of the graveside service is staring at someone's suited back. I was BEHIND someone, not allowed to partake in the ceremony, as it were.

Fast forward 4 years to my grandmother's deathbed. She had been in a nursing home for quite awhile, and they had called the whole family in, for her death was imminent. We were crashed out in lounges and such until the moment came, then we all crowded in her room, and she died. I was COMPLETELY freaked out and did NOT want to be there. One of the Salvation Army ladies who was close with my extended family, but not close to me or my Mom, tried to hug me and literally had to force me over to the bedside. I didn't want to be next to my dead grandmother, but I was FORCED to because someone else thought they knew what was best for me.

So there you have it- everyone else knowing what was best for me as a child trying to comprehend a tremendous loss, with no support for real grieving.

Here I am at 40, uncovering these horrible memories and watching my mom deteriorate, knowing that she only has a few years, if that, left. I am working really hard to make my time with her meaningful. Sometimes I look at her and see slices of times past - remember the person she was. My job is to accept her for who she is NOW, age, disease, and all, and be thankful that I have had her this long in my life. Unlike when I was 11 and 15, I DO have control over how I experience the end of her life and her death, and I have so much more support and so many resources that I didn't have as a kid.

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I have to drive to Auburn now to attend a ridiculous workshop for the chorch job (how not to molest children, I assume). It looks like the chorch job will be able to meet my minimum wage requirement (which isn't saying much - it's barely enough to get by on with my huge student loan payment that starts up in January again). However, they are willing to let me teach next summer, which will help make ends meet. I'm still hoping one day we can buy a house. If I have a job that doesn't go away every 3-4 months, the banks will be more willing to look at us, I hope.

Catching my breath

Mom was in the hospital for 11 days and was finally released on Thursday. We went to visit her today; she wasn't doing too well - her blood pressure was really low - but we got hold of a doctor on call and he said it was likely from the aggressive dialysis they did yesterday, and that they'd probably overdone it a bit. He said unless it goes below 80, it should correct itself, and she should tell the dialysis crew on Monday when she goes in again.

Worse than that, she'd reverted to her horrible eating habits after getting 3 squares a day in the hospital. By 2:30 this afternoon all she'd eaten was toast, juice and some coffee. I made her a roast beef sammich, heated up some carrots I'd cooked with a roast the other night, and gave her half a can of Boost with some milk, along with a stern talking to about the necessity of eating, even if she doesn't feel particularly hungry. And she wonders why her albumen levels have been consistently low for months! She's not eating protein at every meal. Breakfast for her is either toast (carbs) or cereal (carbs) and then she doesn't eat anything for hours. For lunch she's apt to have cottage cheese and some salad. By the time dinner comes she's ready for a full meal, but with that kind of diet, she's missed most of the day's requirements.

I had felt a spate of relief after she came home from the hospital, but after today, I felt my own anxiety levels shoot through the roof. I'm trying to keep up with everything and finding it rather trying because underneath all the work for the summer program, underneath my own concerns about my professional future, money, student loans, and Bizarro's academic and professional future, there lies a constant, thrumming anxiety about my mom. Is she okay, is she taking care of herself, is she getting what she needs, is she safe, etc. etc. etc.

Still trying to find a good option for assisted living, and I have narrowed it down to two places that are local and quasi-local, respectively. Still have shitloads of paper work to do for the VA so she gets veteran's widow benefits, but the good news is all we have to do for the power of attourney thing is get the form notarized. I already am the health proxy, so that's in place at least.

My Bro is taking care of another legal matter involving a piece of almost-worthless land that mom and dad held for decades, and which mom has signed over to my Bro to sell off to the highest bidder (one of the nearby commercial chains who will hopefully want it).

All I can say is if I don't have a kid of my own we are definitely adopting because I can't imagine being her age in her condition without a kid to help me out.

It's now Saturday night and I am winding down at my desk with some stuff I've been meaning to get to for myself (rather than work or mom stuff) and a glass of wine.

In two weeks is the live action role playing extravaganza that I am really looking forward to. It coincides with the end of the summer program, so it feels rather like a light at the end of the tunnel. I always enjoy prepping for these things (this is my 15th year in attendance). More on all that later.

PMP - I know you're going through a rough time too. We now have a patio table (courtesy of mom) and I look forward to sitting out there with you in late summer, lighting the red lamp, drinking our wine and figuring out our lives together.

SMJ - is in TURKEY right now, the lucky sunnovagun! I am really happy for her and her hubby. They've had a bit of a rough time here in Nowhere, Central NY but hubby finally got his tenure approved, so now they can start making plans. I am happy that they have this chance to spend time with his family in Turkey and get away from the doldrums here.

Assisted Living Dracula

Yesterday was awful. We looked at an AL residence with no A/C and a car salesman for an intake counselor (offered to have her move in 2 weeks - like we'd be ready!), and the residents sitting around the hallways looked like zombies. Mom and I hightailed it out of there (I think I heard someone mumble "Brains! Give me your brains!" on the way out).

We were both very discouraged, but after a good night's sleep and some additional input from her social worker, we talked this morning and agreed (along with my brother) that she doesn't need that level of "assistance" yet. My Bro and I are going to split the cost of additional home health aides to come in more often during the week to help her with the business of living (Laundry, house kleening, cooking, groceries, personal care). Meantime, she and I will begin going through her piles of stuff and work on paring down her belongings so that when she is eventually ready for more assistance, we can move her without the crisis of clearing out an apartment with a lifetime of stuff in it. There is also the issue of $$$. Even with SSI, we'd have to cough up the first month's rent for any AL place, so we need to plan for that, as well.

Meantime, we're all taking a deep breath and counting this as a learning experience. I have a lot of work to do now for organizing and hiring the aide(s). I will try to go through the agency we're currently using at least to start.

Yesterday's difficulty was exacerbated when the woman at the "Vital Statistics" office wouldn't let me get a copy of my own father's death certificate b/c I don't have power of attorney for my mom (yet), and neither did I have his birth cert. After the experience at the Assisted Living Dracula place, I could barely keep it together. I was fuming, and I responded with "Fine, I'll have my 81 year old mother with her WALKER come over and get it!" and I stormed out. I feel bad for the lady at the window. She was just doing her job but it so happened that the red tape only fueled the furnace of my rage at that moment in time.

Thank gawd for counseling, T'ai Chi, hot baths and meditation. These are my chief stress reduction techniques, you see. Which is a good thing because yesterday afternoon I felt like I could have turned into The Hulk (don't make me angry; you won't like me when I'm angry).

(A prize to anyone who can identify the animated TV series from which I stole the title for this post.)

Say Hello To My Little Pen!

George Lopez loves to find ways to use this paraphrase of Scarface's deranged challenge. In my case, it is the perfect description of the letter of complaint I penned this morning. Someone's ass is going to BURN!

Mom and I went to visit the assisted living facility here in I-Town yesterday. It was only after we arrived that we were informed by the intake counselor that they can't take residents on oxygen due to some health department code. Mind you, it was in the 80s and very humid out - making it hard for mom to breathe, so the trip was quite a challenge for her. We took the time, expense and the physical exertion (esp. on mom's part) to haul our asses up here from where mom lives (45 minutes away) only to be turned away for something that should have been discussed on the phone.

This intake counselor never mentioned anything about restrictions from using O2 in either of our phone calls. She should be using a checklist of pre-screening questions over the phone. Instead, she couldn't wait to get us in there and start selling us on the place.

WORSE, she went on to tell us IN THE LOBBY (IOW, in public) that residents on O2 were allowed only to stay in the independent living apartments, and, get this: "You can't afford that."

Needless to say, I have a pointed letter going out to the director of the facility, the president of the board that runs the facility, the director of the county's office for aging, and the aging specialist I'd spoken with at the office for aging.

Thankfully, this ridiculous health code doesn't apply to the county where mom lives now, and so we have an appointment with the other assisted living place in the next town over from her. In many ways this is a better fit - she can keep all the same doctors and the dialysis unit where she is now. The only down side is I'll still have to make a 45-minute drive to see her. But I can take it - the important thing is that she's got a good place to live with the care she needs and deserves.

Meantime, I am going to send my letter of complaint out and be done with it. Time to move on. As Grant and Jay say on Ghost Hunters, "On to the next!"

The Sunshine is All Around Me!

Today marks my 4th decade on Planet Earth. It's 55 out, the sun is shining, and I've had a wonderful couple days' worth of celebration. I will post pictures tonight when I get home.

I am deeply thankful for all that I hold dear, especially my Mom and Dad, for bringing me into this world. I was a "surprise" you know, and at the age of 41 in 1968, my mother was brave to have a baby. Thanks, Mom!

For those of you who know me by name, please check out www.sixsentences.blogspot.com for a little surprise. It's a special birthday gift, indeed!

3 lbs of glory!

Yesterday I weighed in and to my great surprise and delight, I've lost 3 lbs since the beginning of the month. Granted, it's not a lot, but it's a start and it sure as hell beats weighing 3 lbs MORE or even no change at all. The best part is that I know I lost those fat pounds just by eating less and better. I haven't done much in the way of exercise earlier this month. This means that now that I am exercising again, plus watching my intake, I should be able to continue the trend.

I went to T'ai Chi Wednesday night and it was good. Mostly. My teacher is still running the class so that we only have a precious few minutes to run through the form. I'm not learning anything, really. The stretching and conditioning is good for me, and it beats nothing at all, but as a T'ai Chi class, I don't feel like I'm able to progress in my practice of the form itself. So the search continues...

Mom had her venogram on Wednesday, and they discovered that her fistula hasn't matured because of all the tiny veins running off, essentially lowering the flow of blood through the area they want to access. So there will have to be yet ANOTHER procedure for that. Poor woman. I feel so badly for all the shit she's having to deal with. Anyway, Bizarro and I are going to see her tomorrow. I'm going to make dinner and get my ass wupped in Scrabble.

The new job at the church continues to go well. It's nice to have something that is not stressful and yet not boring. Also, my first day of class was Wed. and it was fine. You know the first class is always the boring "here's the syllabus, now write an esasy so I can get to know you" kind of thing. Easy peasy. Next week the real work begins.

But now it's Friday and I'm going to relax a bit.

Murphy's Law or Mercury in Retrograde?

Today I was supposed to drive to my mom's after work and take care of her after her venogram this morning. Half way through the morning she called to tell me that they'd gotten her all prepped and ready, and the goddamn machine wasn't working! So they'd rescheduled it for tomorrow. I could still drive down tonight and then drive her to the hospital and dialysis tomorrow for all of that. Then around 4:00 she called back to say they'd rescheduled her AGAIN (for the THIRD TIME) for next Wed because the machine needed parts they wouldn't get in time to be able to do her tomorrow at 1:00. Of course Wed. I can't be with her because I'm teaching and then working the next day. I'll probably drive down in the evening and drive to work from her place the next morning.

It's all very frustrating for mom and I feel really bad for her. I will go visit her this weekend, anyway.

Speaking of work, yes, today was my first day at the Church. I think I'm really going to like it there. I even get to learn and use Publisher as part of the job, so if nothing else, I'll have a new skill by the time I leave someday. I love that I have a skylight right over my desk - and there are windows aplenty in the place so I won't feel like I'm in a cave. I decided that come spring I will get my old bike tuned up and will ride there on decent days.

It's snowing out now and maybe it's just as well I don't drive down to mom's tonight. I saw sanders out on the highway, so the roads might be slick this evening.

Now I have the evening to myself...whatever shall I do?

Unbelievable...

So much for 2008 starting us off on the right foot...

My dear Uncle Bill passed away quite suddenly yesterday after a freakish slip on ice outside his home. He fell and slammed his head on the pavement. They rushed him to the hospital but the neurosurgeons were in surgery and so they flew him to a one of the bigger cities nearby. The surgeons did their best but nothing could be done - he'd bled out too much in the brain.

Yesterday was surreal - I drove to take mom to the hospital, we sat for 2 hours in the waiting room because of an emergency procedure they had to attend to. They started to bring us in, but then had to send us home because there was another emergency they had to take care of. It was probably that 2nd emergency that kept the neurosurgeon occupied when my Uncle went in a short time later.

I took mom home, we had a snack together, then I drove back to my apartment. 45 minutes later I got the call from mom and later that night I got the call from my Aunt that Uncle Bill didn't make it.

Bizarro and I drove back to my mom's last night; mom is an absolute mess. We stayed over and have just come back home for a couple hours tonight to gather a few things and get a couple errands run. We're headed back there tonight and will stay until Sunday. The funeral is next Saturday, but I know that my mom needs us around now to keep her from falling into a depression. She and Uncle Bill were brother and sister, very close. He was a truly wonderful, kind, generous, compassionate man, with a sense of humor and always a positive word to say about everyone. I will miss him dearly.

Why am I blogging all of this? Because I have to write it down. It doesn't seem real. It's so sudden, and I am reeling with my own grief and worry for my mom. All last night while driving to mom's (45 minutes) I kept saying over and over again, "It's not fair." He had some health problems but wasn't sick like my mom is. He was active and still working part time, for krissakes. He leaves a widow who was devoted to him and who relied on him heavily, and an adult son who is developmentally disabled. Whatever will they do without him?

Okay, I've got this out of my system a little. Kudos to Bizarro for being so great at this horrid time. I need a shower, food and a nap.