Today was the day for nail trimming/cutting/filing. Not mine, but Mum's.
Today was also the day I finally finished my response to Social Work's review document. I wonder how it will be received since it is full of criticisms. I have no idea how anyone can send out such an official document which is so full of spelling mistakes, the kind which a spell check would easily pick up. Anyway, we shall see what happens next. Quite frankly, to be told, in the social work review documentation that they will work to prevent any further deterioration in Mum's condition is either laughable, pathetic or terrifying since Parkinson's is a degenerative condition which the medical profession cannot halt or cure, what is Social Work going to do?
Today's also been a day when the shamanic realms have been leaking through into every day life. I have no idea what is going on, I just know that concentration and focus has been extremely hard to come by today. I've been distracted and flitting about like a butterfly on speed. It's uncomfy, to say the least.
So, Mum asks this morning if I would please cut her nails. Easy enough, you'd think. Until you try getting a file or clippers onto a fingernail which is almost vibrating in its intensity of shaking. Or you try to uncurl the clenched fist to get at the nails which are digging into the palm of her hand. It hurts her to have someone try to unroll her fingers. I have to work fast, not just because of her shakes but because I have to bend over the bed (even when it is raised to it's full height, I still have to bend) and that irritates the hell out my back muscles and my spine.
However, we got there, with only one spasm, one "ouch" and no blood! So now all her nails are neatly filed down as far as I can get them. And she feels comfy again. Interestingly, her toenails don't seem to be growing as fast as her fingernails.
Sunday, 31 May 2015
Thursday, 28 May 2015
The Art Factor
Many years ago I heard someone talking about Art Therapy in the treatment of people with depression. I didn't understand it then, but I'm not one who draws. Then, a few years back, not long after I was fist diagnosed with this chronic condition, I decided to try paint by numbers because some of the adult ones are so very good, incredibly intricate, you could almost believe you were doing a "proper" painting. And that's when I realised what Art Therapy was about. It's about focus, about slowing down, about pausing - because if you don't focus, don't slow down and pause sometimes what you end up with is a mess. But if you do focus, slow down and pause what you come away with is something quite beautiful.
It was something I'd do at 4 or 5 in the morning, in winter, because it was quiet and it was productive. Then next door's security light started to malfunction and it would blink on and off during all the hours of darkness so I gave up.
Now I doing pencil drawings, or rather I colour them in. I still don't think I could compose a picture of my own - apart from a house or a glaciated valley - because I've never convinced myself to keep trying, to keep attempting the perspective required. But, even using pencils, it's still enough to slow me down when life gets on top of me. Plus it's easier to carry around than a paint by number kit :)
It was something I'd do at 4 or 5 in the morning, in winter, because it was quiet and it was productive. Then next door's security light started to malfunction and it would blink on and off during all the hours of darkness so I gave up.
Now I doing pencil drawings, or rather I colour them in. I still don't think I could compose a picture of my own - apart from a house or a glaciated valley - because I've never convinced myself to keep trying, to keep attempting the perspective required. But, even using pencils, it's still enough to slow me down when life gets on top of me. Plus it's easier to carry around than a paint by number kit :)
Wednesday, 27 May 2015
Well meaning, but misplaced, nebbs
Almost 2 months ago we had a "review" visit from Social Work - the price of having free personal care for Mum. Today the supposed record of that visit arrived on our door mat.
On a slightly different note, as I read through the 30+ pages, I became more and more horrified that no one had even spell-checked the document, let alone read it through. Obviously life in Social Work is far sloppier than it was in my day - and yes, I know that makes it sound like I'm a 95 year old school marm, but really. An official document . . . spell check, at the very least!
Quite a bit of the document was correct, but there were rather large gaps which had been filled by supposition. In correct supposition at that. And also rather interesting answers to questions which weren't even asked.
I love the tables on these reports - critical issue - how would my mum escape a burning house - ok, you never asked that question. There is an answer however, because I happened to ask 2 firemen who were doing door to door checks on smoke alarms and fire prevention stuff. We are less than 5 minutes from the fire station, our instructions are, in the event of a fire (anywhere other than Mum and Dad's bedroom), close their bedroom door, wet down towels and place around the door, soak the door with water, open the window (obviously after dialling 999 and reporting the incident) and await arrival of fire crews who will take out the window & take Mum out that way. If it's in their bedroom then, basically, we'd have to physically carry Mum out the room to another room to await arrival. Even if we still had a stairlift, a fire would probably cut power, rendering it useless. And, well, I could go on with various scenarios, because I've already thought them out & made contingency plans - it's part of the way my brain works. But we were never asked.
Another part is the support of the carers - I'm sorry, but if you can't offer financial support (easing my financial stress) there isn't much more you can do for me. And why has it taken you 3 years to decide to do this? But, again, it was a box on the page - not even something raised at the meeting.
There was also a slightly more worrying thing the document was the implied desire for Mum to have more social interaction. She can't go out so that would involve people coming in - firstly Mum doesn't always want company and you can't schedule that, secondly we're already at tolerance capacity for people traipsing into the house bring good will, cheer and infections.
Well meaning people but their nebbs are in the wrong place.
On a slightly different note, as I read through the 30+ pages, I became more and more horrified that no one had even spell-checked the document, let alone read it through. Obviously life in Social Work is far sloppier than it was in my day - and yes, I know that makes it sound like I'm a 95 year old school marm, but really. An official document . . . spell check, at the very least!
Quite a bit of the document was correct, but there were rather large gaps which had been filled by supposition. In correct supposition at that. And also rather interesting answers to questions which weren't even asked.
I love the tables on these reports - critical issue - how would my mum escape a burning house - ok, you never asked that question. There is an answer however, because I happened to ask 2 firemen who were doing door to door checks on smoke alarms and fire prevention stuff. We are less than 5 minutes from the fire station, our instructions are, in the event of a fire (anywhere other than Mum and Dad's bedroom), close their bedroom door, wet down towels and place around the door, soak the door with water, open the window (obviously after dialling 999 and reporting the incident) and await arrival of fire crews who will take out the window & take Mum out that way. If it's in their bedroom then, basically, we'd have to physically carry Mum out the room to another room to await arrival. Even if we still had a stairlift, a fire would probably cut power, rendering it useless. And, well, I could go on with various scenarios, because I've already thought them out & made contingency plans - it's part of the way my brain works. But we were never asked.
Another part is the support of the carers - I'm sorry, but if you can't offer financial support (easing my financial stress) there isn't much more you can do for me. And why has it taken you 3 years to decide to do this? But, again, it was a box on the page - not even something raised at the meeting.
There was also a slightly more worrying thing the document was the implied desire for Mum to have more social interaction. She can't go out so that would involve people coming in - firstly Mum doesn't always want company and you can't schedule that, secondly we're already at tolerance capacity for people traipsing into the house bring good will, cheer and infections.
Well meaning people but their nebbs are in the wrong place.
Tuesday, 26 May 2015
It's a good day!
There are just some days when things come together, not even big things, and suddenly the world's a nicer place.
First off, I managed to persuade my Guides that I needed a night off, one which involved proper sleep not gadding around on the astral carrying out tasks or attending to issues. So, that was a bonus, especially as I was late to bed last night having stayed up trying to locate a place, unmarked on a map, where my nephew may be having a day's work today. Unfortunately it is in the middle of nowhere so a bus service doesn't exist, hence my sister having to be up, showered, fed & out the door far earlier than usual. I hope they find the place. I hope the job turns out to be real, a reasonable one and one he can finally get his teeth into.
I managed to get 8 pages written last night after supper and before pills while all was quiet, mayhap the block's gone? We shall see. I also managed to finish one of my colouring in pictures - am actually quite proud. I call it Meditation Garden.
Mum had a bad night last night. A lot of dreaming, shouting, giggling, muttering. I was up four times to see if there was an actual problem or if she was just dreaming. No problems, just dreaming. Good news but somewhat tiring.
And then I found a piece of an earring I thought was gone forever.
Several months ago, I decided I needed cheering up, so I splashed out a whopping £2 on a pair of earrings. They really aren't anything spectacular, indeed, I have had comment about how tacky they are - so what? I like 'em! Anyway, the nice part, the front part, came off one of the earrings. I had no idea where I had actually lost it since I didn't notice the problem until lunchtime and I'd put the earrings on in the morning. I suppose the glue gave up, lol So all I had left was the post and butterfly. Then, this morning, there is the front part lying on the floor at the side of my bed! Whohoo! A bit of superglue and now I wait for a bit, hope the glue's taken & well set and I shall have my rather braw, if somewhat tacky,earrings back as a pair!
Time to take the clean laundry upstairs and bring today's lot down. I may just change dad's bedlinen, since I did all of Mum's sheets & blankets yesterday.
It's a good day!
First off, I managed to persuade my Guides that I needed a night off, one which involved proper sleep not gadding around on the astral carrying out tasks or attending to issues. So, that was a bonus, especially as I was late to bed last night having stayed up trying to locate a place, unmarked on a map, where my nephew may be having a day's work today. Unfortunately it is in the middle of nowhere so a bus service doesn't exist, hence my sister having to be up, showered, fed & out the door far earlier than usual. I hope they find the place. I hope the job turns out to be real, a reasonable one and one he can finally get his teeth into.
I managed to get 8 pages written last night after supper and before pills while all was quiet, mayhap the block's gone? We shall see. I also managed to finish one of my colouring in pictures - am actually quite proud. I call it Meditation Garden.
Mum had a bad night last night. A lot of dreaming, shouting, giggling, muttering. I was up four times to see if there was an actual problem or if she was just dreaming. No problems, just dreaming. Good news but somewhat tiring.
And then I found a piece of an earring I thought was gone forever.
Several months ago, I decided I needed cheering up, so I splashed out a whopping £2 on a pair of earrings. They really aren't anything spectacular, indeed, I have had comment about how tacky they are - so what? I like 'em! Anyway, the nice part, the front part, came off one of the earrings. I had no idea where I had actually lost it since I didn't notice the problem until lunchtime and I'd put the earrings on in the morning. I suppose the glue gave up, lol So all I had left was the post and butterfly. Then, this morning, there is the front part lying on the floor at the side of my bed! Whohoo! A bit of superglue and now I wait for a bit, hope the glue's taken & well set and I shall have my rather braw, if somewhat tacky,earrings back as a pair!
Time to take the clean laundry upstairs and bring today's lot down. I may just change dad's bedlinen, since I did all of Mum's sheets & blankets yesterday.
It's a good day!
Saturday, 23 May 2015
Rebel Blue
I rebelled yesterday, very quietly. So quietly in fact that I doubt anyone else noticed, aside from the fact that my rebellion resulted in a fair few exasperated looks and huffing sighs.
I think the "why" behind my rebellion is more important than the "how", it's also longer, lol. It was a stonkingly beautiful day yesterday. It was also Day 1 of the Festival of Hockey on the pitches across the path from us. So, not surprisingly, there was a fair bit of noise. Congestion resulting from people desperate to park as close to the pitches as possible, regardless of how unsafe it made it for others. I dreaded driving past those tightly packed cars, a child really could dash out from between those cars, uncaring of the potential dangers: same with dogs suddenly freed from their cars. Even at 5 or 10 mph a car could seriously damage a child or a dog. Not many of the adults seemed to understand this and that is positively frightening.
There's an encampment of travellers just beyond our road end. And they are letting their children run wild, pulling bark off trees, branches off trees, making holes in hedges, rubbish strewn everywhere - no respect. Usually there isn't an issue with travellers, but I'm not convinced these are our usual ones.
Then, of course, with good weather comes everyone else who has to enjoy the warmth and the sunshine with over loud, drunken laughter and pounding music. And yet most of our neighbours are actually quite quiet and make only everyday noise levels - odd how one or two households can be the absolute bain.
Yes, I know, I should move house. Trust me, as soon as I can, I shall be - somewhere quieter.
Mum didn't drink enough yesterday, so she was feeling sick. She wanted pandering to and, quite frankly, I had nothing to pander to her with.
And then there was the pressure - washing into machine, out of machine, onto line, off line, put away, next load; food.
So I refused to deal with the washing. I refused to cook, opting instead to use some spare housekeeping and go to the local Chinese - which suited dad (who wanted fish and chips), which suited my niece and me but not my sister. Ohhhhh the look I got when she realised she'd have to cook for herself. Did I opt for Chinese just because it would irritate my sister? Nah, I'm not that petty. I opted for Chinese because I was thinking just about myself - I wanted a chicken salad and they do a lovely chicken salad. Just so happens that being selfish tweaked the Soup Dragon's beak and I don't regret it for one minute.
So, this morning, brain said sleep, body said get up. For over an hour I had that contest rattling around in my head, eventually, just before 6 a.m. body won. But now I have the impatient dad, the piles of laundry (done & needing done) and a frustration level which is almost as high as the pain levels. Teeth are aching today, yeah, teeth - all my upper jaw teeth are aching. It's not like tooth ache cos there's no pressure or pain when I bite just a deep ache which makes me feel like all my teeth will fall out any time, but they don't. I know, because this isn't the first time I've had this. It's the death of the nerves, eventually the pain'll stop and all I have to do is wait it out.
Rebel Blue strikes today.
Rebel Blue would like to run away.
But I have to swallow it, put it down, shove it in a box because now I have to deal with the laundry, deal with the breakfasts, deal with the pills, deal with the dishes. It's not healthy, but it's the only way I can deal with it right now.
I think the "why" behind my rebellion is more important than the "how", it's also longer, lol. It was a stonkingly beautiful day yesterday. It was also Day 1 of the Festival of Hockey on the pitches across the path from us. So, not surprisingly, there was a fair bit of noise. Congestion resulting from people desperate to park as close to the pitches as possible, regardless of how unsafe it made it for others. I dreaded driving past those tightly packed cars, a child really could dash out from between those cars, uncaring of the potential dangers: same with dogs suddenly freed from their cars. Even at 5 or 10 mph a car could seriously damage a child or a dog. Not many of the adults seemed to understand this and that is positively frightening.
There's an encampment of travellers just beyond our road end. And they are letting their children run wild, pulling bark off trees, branches off trees, making holes in hedges, rubbish strewn everywhere - no respect. Usually there isn't an issue with travellers, but I'm not convinced these are our usual ones.
Then, of course, with good weather comes everyone else who has to enjoy the warmth and the sunshine with over loud, drunken laughter and pounding music. And yet most of our neighbours are actually quite quiet and make only everyday noise levels - odd how one or two households can be the absolute bain.
Yes, I know, I should move house. Trust me, as soon as I can, I shall be - somewhere quieter.
Mum didn't drink enough yesterday, so she was feeling sick. She wanted pandering to and, quite frankly, I had nothing to pander to her with.
And then there was the pressure - washing into machine, out of machine, onto line, off line, put away, next load; food.
So I refused to deal with the washing. I refused to cook, opting instead to use some spare housekeeping and go to the local Chinese - which suited dad (who wanted fish and chips), which suited my niece and me but not my sister. Ohhhhh the look I got when she realised she'd have to cook for herself. Did I opt for Chinese just because it would irritate my sister? Nah, I'm not that petty. I opted for Chinese because I was thinking just about myself - I wanted a chicken salad and they do a lovely chicken salad. Just so happens that being selfish tweaked the Soup Dragon's beak and I don't regret it for one minute.
So, this morning, brain said sleep, body said get up. For over an hour I had that contest rattling around in my head, eventually, just before 6 a.m. body won. But now I have the impatient dad, the piles of laundry (done & needing done) and a frustration level which is almost as high as the pain levels. Teeth are aching today, yeah, teeth - all my upper jaw teeth are aching. It's not like tooth ache cos there's no pressure or pain when I bite just a deep ache which makes me feel like all my teeth will fall out any time, but they don't. I know, because this isn't the first time I've had this. It's the death of the nerves, eventually the pain'll stop and all I have to do is wait it out.
Rebel Blue strikes today.
Rebel Blue would like to run away.
But I have to swallow it, put it down, shove it in a box because now I have to deal with the laundry, deal with the breakfasts, deal with the pills, deal with the dishes. It's not healthy, but it's the only way I can deal with it right now.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
Beware Reflections
Today's been a day when I felt I needed space, I felt I needed fresh air. So taking care of business has been less comfy than it can be. Now that the rain has stopped and things have dried up, I actually managed to grab 10 minutes outside!
Mind you, there was great fun when I went to the veterinary surgery to collect Suki's needles (Suki's my diabetic cat). Apparently someone thought I was someone else and had decided to hide underneath a desk! Rather odd, fortunately I did not take the hilarity as personal - I could have done, but I didn't.
Mum said something last night, I'm not sure what reaction she was expecting but she certainly didn't get it.
"Good night," says I, after pills, lotions, drops and pad change. "Sleep well, see you in the morning." (My usual end of evening routine litany.)
"I might not be here in the morning." Replies Mum in a little voice. I stopped half way to the bedroom door and turned.
"Well, in that case, have a reasonable journey and I'll see you later."
That stumped her. If she was expecting hysterics, she never got them. If she was expecting a round of pleading and begging for her not to go, she never got it. Mum doesn't have much of a life these days, and I cannot begin to imagine her levels of frustration, desperation and despair. Whether I am ready for her to go or not, the final decision is her's and she's closer to that decision than not. It's an uncomfortable reality, but it's also life.
Then there was dad's request that I cut his toenails - he just can't bend over for long enough to cut them himself these days.
So, this afternoon after getting body & brain into semi-working order I got him sat down in a chair & me on a stool with the various files and cutters and set to work. As a diabetic it is important that we keep an eye on his legs and feet. He already had pretty poor circulation in his legs and one of his legs is now more purple than flesh coloured, that's been since his heart issues started. But, as he raised his other foot onto my knee I saw a green patch on the sole of his foot.
My first thought was "shit! gangrene!" Need to phone the doctor, or should it be an ambulance? Wait a minute, there is no smell of decay, the skin is still tight and not coming off in great gobbets (wonderful word that!). When I brush my fingers over the area there is good tonality, what is going on here? I change position slightly and notice that the colour on his foot disappears. What the . . .?
I'm wearing a green t-shirt, quite a vivid green. The light is reflecting off the t-shirt and onto his foot.
Fortunately, today, I can laugh at myself.
Fortunately, today, it is only a reflection.
SHIT what a day.
Mind you, there was great fun when I went to the veterinary surgery to collect Suki's needles (Suki's my diabetic cat). Apparently someone thought I was someone else and had decided to hide underneath a desk! Rather odd, fortunately I did not take the hilarity as personal - I could have done, but I didn't.
Mum said something last night, I'm not sure what reaction she was expecting but she certainly didn't get it.
"Good night," says I, after pills, lotions, drops and pad change. "Sleep well, see you in the morning." (My usual end of evening routine litany.)
"I might not be here in the morning." Replies Mum in a little voice. I stopped half way to the bedroom door and turned.
"Well, in that case, have a reasonable journey and I'll see you later."
That stumped her. If she was expecting hysterics, she never got them. If she was expecting a round of pleading and begging for her not to go, she never got it. Mum doesn't have much of a life these days, and I cannot begin to imagine her levels of frustration, desperation and despair. Whether I am ready for her to go or not, the final decision is her's and she's closer to that decision than not. It's an uncomfortable reality, but it's also life.
Then there was dad's request that I cut his toenails - he just can't bend over for long enough to cut them himself these days.
So, this afternoon after getting body & brain into semi-working order I got him sat down in a chair & me on a stool with the various files and cutters and set to work. As a diabetic it is important that we keep an eye on his legs and feet. He already had pretty poor circulation in his legs and one of his legs is now more purple than flesh coloured, that's been since his heart issues started. But, as he raised his other foot onto my knee I saw a green patch on the sole of his foot.
My first thought was "shit! gangrene!" Need to phone the doctor, or should it be an ambulance? Wait a minute, there is no smell of decay, the skin is still tight and not coming off in great gobbets (wonderful word that!). When I brush my fingers over the area there is good tonality, what is going on here? I change position slightly and notice that the colour on his foot disappears. What the . . .?
I'm wearing a green t-shirt, quite a vivid green. The light is reflecting off the t-shirt and onto his foot.
Fortunately, today, I can laugh at myself.
Fortunately, today, it is only a reflection.
SHIT what a day.
Wednesday, 20 May 2015
Up and down
Life is all about those ups and downs.
Dad treated me to half a tank of diesel this morning (well, my car, I personally don't partake of the diesel) - that's an "up".
My gut is slowly returning to normal after the savoury rice debacle - I'm pretty sure it was the spices. The amount of pain & bloating did make me wonder how on earth I ever managed to hold down a job while experiencing this full time. So, that's an "up".
Mum's doing not too badly at the moment - just routine stuff, nothing spectacularly amiss. That's an "up".
Dad's doing not too badly considering he was at the hospital yesterday & went shopping this morning. That's an "up".
A while ago, while sitting in a coffee shop I saw a chap with a walking stick & he had somehow managed to hang the walking stick off the side of the table. I was most curious, so I put my glasses on. He had some kind of triangular clip attached to it which was allowing it to balance and not fall all over the place. I admit, I wanted one. One of the things I hate about having to use a walking stick is, if you do sit down at a table, getting it perched right so that it's not going to fall on the floor or trip anyone up or take up a seat all of its own is impossible. With one of these beauties - SOLVED! So I set out trying to find one. Fortunately, I did find one and it was in one of my catalogues so I can "pay it up". It arrived today, who hoo - definitely an "UP".
Then I got an email from Amazon Kindle Direct. They have a royalty payment waiting for me. Oh boy, did I get all excited..! I've dreamt about being a published author for decades. I've fantasised about making a living from crafting words into pictures. I finally grabbed my courage in both hands and published earlier this year. When I read the terms and conditions I got the idea that I would have to have sales of £100 before I would get a payment, so, to get an email saying I had royalties pending you can imagine my utter gobsmackedness. Eagerly I followed the login info to the report page. No details. Ok, let's check the sales page . . . 2 copies, that's all I've sold is 2 copies :( So why am I getting a royalty payment? I won't refuse even £2 payment, won't make any kind of dent in my overdraft, but it's the principal. *sigh* "down".
Will see what actually arrives in my bank account around the end of this month. But since I was already struggling with a blockage in book 2, it doesn't really give me much of a reason to plough on. (Though I probably will, cos I enjoy reading my own work lol ).
Below is the walking stick holder.
Dad treated me to half a tank of diesel this morning (well, my car, I personally don't partake of the diesel) - that's an "up".
My gut is slowly returning to normal after the savoury rice debacle - I'm pretty sure it was the spices. The amount of pain & bloating did make me wonder how on earth I ever managed to hold down a job while experiencing this full time. So, that's an "up".
Mum's doing not too badly at the moment - just routine stuff, nothing spectacularly amiss. That's an "up".
Dad's doing not too badly considering he was at the hospital yesterday & went shopping this morning. That's an "up".
A while ago, while sitting in a coffee shop I saw a chap with a walking stick & he had somehow managed to hang the walking stick off the side of the table. I was most curious, so I put my glasses on. He had some kind of triangular clip attached to it which was allowing it to balance and not fall all over the place. I admit, I wanted one. One of the things I hate about having to use a walking stick is, if you do sit down at a table, getting it perched right so that it's not going to fall on the floor or trip anyone up or take up a seat all of its own is impossible. With one of these beauties - SOLVED! So I set out trying to find one. Fortunately, I did find one and it was in one of my catalogues so I can "pay it up". It arrived today, who hoo - definitely an "UP".
Then I got an email from Amazon Kindle Direct. They have a royalty payment waiting for me. Oh boy, did I get all excited..! I've dreamt about being a published author for decades. I've fantasised about making a living from crafting words into pictures. I finally grabbed my courage in both hands and published earlier this year. When I read the terms and conditions I got the idea that I would have to have sales of £100 before I would get a payment, so, to get an email saying I had royalties pending you can imagine my utter gobsmackedness. Eagerly I followed the login info to the report page. No details. Ok, let's check the sales page . . . 2 copies, that's all I've sold is 2 copies :( So why am I getting a royalty payment? I won't refuse even £2 payment, won't make any kind of dent in my overdraft, but it's the principal. *sigh* "down".
Will see what actually arrives in my bank account around the end of this month. But since I was already struggling with a blockage in book 2, it doesn't really give me much of a reason to plough on. (Though I probably will, cos I enjoy reading my own work lol ).
Below is the walking stick holder.
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